Friday, August 5, 2016.
I Keep Going Back To Bozo's.
The second crew of AT&T tech experts comes to the Cool Water Ranch and find that the reason one of my phone lines is out is that it is connected inproperly in a pedestal about half a mile up the street. The man says that this wire, which also brings in the internet and television, was goobered up by the man who was here three days ago to start the internet up again. If a third man were to show up with the news that the second tech undid the work of the first, and therefore nothing works, I would not be surprised. But I get lucky and today's wiring pro gets everything working fine. I can now work at home again.
Which I haven't done in over a week. That's okay. I think I should commune once in awhile in the hallways of the radio station with my fellow broadcasters, and pretend that what I do is real work.
[caption id="attachment_52386" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Seafood martini @ Mr. Ed's Oyster Bar &Fish House[/caption]
MA is not available, and I have no strong desire to go any place in particular for dinner, except that I'm always thinking of seafood on Fridays. And the original location of Mr. Ed's Oyster Bar and Fish House is not only right on my way home, but it also cooks some of my favorite dishes. They have a half-dozen or more interesting takes on oysters, for example. And that always has appeal for me.
[caption id="attachment_52385" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Oysters Amandine[/caption]
As has been noted here more than a few times, Mr. Ed's Oyster Bar is is the successor to Bozo's, the much-loved old seafood joint that dated back to the 1920s until its longtime owner Chris Vodonovich retired a few years ago. (He has since passed away.) During the passing of the torch, Mr. Ed McIntyre gathered all of Chris's many recipes, and guaranteed that they would live on. Indeed, at first that was a matter of concern to the Bozo's regulars. Would Chris show Mr. Ed how to make his chicken-andouille gumbo? Would the barbecue shrimp remain as it was? And how about the bread pudding? Can't change any of those dishes. And there are many more where those came from.
It's been a few years since Mr. Ed moved into Bozo's. For awhile, the gumbo and bread pudding and all the rest of the relics did indeed remain unchanged.
[caption id="attachment_52384" align="alignnone" width="480"]
The new bread pudding.[/caption]
But today I had the gumbo, and the bread pudding--along with oysters amandine, an entirely new dish. I was paying keen attention when I took my first slurp of gumbo. It was good. Better, even, than the old one. Smokier. Denser roux. The bread pudding has come very far from Chris's home-style, simple pudding. It is now not only more interesting in its flavors, but it looks much better, like what you'd find in a big-time gourmet restaurant. The old recipe was just plopped on the plate with a spoon.
So what happened to the urgency felt by the regular customers when they insisted on keeping everything as it was? I asked the waitress about this. She didn't know what I was talking about, even.
So there it is, a cold fact. When changes occur in familiar flavors, there may be disquiet from the old customers. But they always get used to the new ways--if they result in a better dish. Which they usually do. (Unless it's a chain restaurant, in which changes in a dish almost always take goodness downhill.)
Chris was a very good friend of mine, and his restaurant was always a stellar example of consistency. But I don't think he'd object to the deep changes Mr. Ed made in his establishment. Or that Mr. Ed spread the concept to three more locations. He did it honestly, by keeping things moving.
Mr. Ed's Oyster Bar & Fish House. Metairie: 3117 21st St. 504-833-6310.
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Saturday, August 6, 2016.
A Sudden Invitation.
The day began pleasantly enough as MA and I had brunch at Mattina Bella. We eat the usual things, although this is the first time in awhile that I've had the blue crab benedict--poached eggs, hollandaise, and nice crabmeat lumps cooked with some mushrooms. This is a dish I sort of invented there, although the main ingredients were already assembled to make an omelette.
MA and I discuss the family crisis, and we end right where we started. Politics came up, which is never a good thing. We head off on our separate errands.
Later, at home, the burn in the air dissuades me from cutting grass. I do, however, buy a string trimmer, something I've needed for a long time. It's an electric unit, but with power three times as great as the little old trimmer I had, to little effect for years.
Then I get to work on my website duties, still catching up with hundreds of emails. In that queue I find an invitation sent at a quarter to last midnight. It is from Bonnie Warren, who did p.r. work for the old Brennan's. These will be an Irish wake for Ted Brennan, who died a few days ago. Just Ted's closest friends and family are invited. But Ted's wife Ellen read my tribute to Ted in the newsletter, and added me to the list.
It was fifteen minutes until the party began on the other side of the lake. MA and I mobilize as fast as we can. She questions the bright green blazer I wore, until I tell her what an Irish wake is about. It's for laughing, drinking, and celebrating a life. Not mourning.
[caption id="attachment_27107" align="alignleft" width="350"]
Chef Lazone Randolph, eager to return to work in Ted Brennan's Decatur restaurant.[/caption]
We arrive in the shank of the get-together. We are not surprised to see that Ted had a lot of friends. I talk at length with Ellen and son Teddy. Teddy and his dad were working on opening a new restaurant in the French Quarter this fall, featuring the dishes of the old Brennan's. Also here is the longtime Brennan's chef Lazone Randolph, who will be the man in the kitchen in the new place. Lazone has made a batch of turtle soup in the old style, which I always regarded as the best in New Orleans.
Everybody seems to like my green blazer. I try to get some Irish songs going, but nobody wants to join in.
Seafood martini @ Mr. Ed's Oyster Bar &Fish House[/caption]
MA is not available, and I have no strong desire to go any place in particular for dinner, except that I'm always thinking of seafood on Fridays. And the original location of Mr. Ed's Oyster Bar and Fish House is not only right on my way home, but it also cooks some of my favorite dishes. They have a half-dozen or more interesting takes on oysters, for example. And that always has appeal for me.
[caption id="attachment_52385" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Oysters Amandine[/caption]
As has been noted here more than a few times, Mr. Ed's Oyster Bar is is the successor to Bozo's, the much-loved old seafood joint that dated back to the 1920s until its longtime owner Chris Vodonovich retired a few years ago. (He has since passed away.) During the passing of the torch, Mr. Ed McIntyre gathered all of Chris's many recipes, and guaranteed that they would live on. Indeed, at first that was a matter of concern to the Bozo's regulars. Would Chris show Mr. Ed how to make his chicken-andouille gumbo? Would the barbecue shrimp remain as it was? And how about the bread pudding? Can't change any of those dishes. And there are many more where those came from.
It's been a few years since Mr. Ed moved into Bozo's. For awhile, the gumbo and bread pudding and all the rest of the relics did indeed remain unchanged.
[caption id="attachment_52384" align="alignnone" width="480"]
The new bread pudding.[/caption]
But today I had the gumbo, and the bread pudding--along with oysters amandine, an entirely new dish. I was paying keen attention when I took my first slurp of gumbo. It was good. Better, even, than the old one. Smokier. Denser roux. The bread pudding has come very far from Chris's home-style, simple pudding. It is now not only more interesting in its flavors, but it looks much better, like what you'd find in a big-time gourmet restaurant. The old recipe was just plopped on the plate with a spoon.
So what happened to the urgency felt by the regular customers when they insisted on keeping everything as it was? I asked the waitress about this. She didn't know what I was talking about, even.
So there it is, a cold fact. When changes occur in familiar flavors, there may be disquiet from the old customers. But they always get used to the new ways--if they result in a better dish. Which they usually do. (Unless it's a chain restaurant, in which changes in a dish almost always take goodness downhill.)
Chris was a very good friend of mine, and his restaurant was always a stellar example of consistency. But I don't think he'd object to the deep changes Mr. Ed made in his establishment. Or that Mr. Ed spread the concept to three more locations. He did it honestly, by keeping things moving.
Chef Lazone Randolph, eager to return to work in Ted Brennan's Decatur restaurant.[/caption]
We arrive in the shank of the get-together. We are not surprised to see that Ted had a lot of friends. I talk at length with Ellen and son Teddy. Teddy and his dad were working on opening a new restaurant in the French Quarter this fall, featuring the dishes of the old Brennan's. Also here is the longtime Brennan's chef Lazone Randolph, who will be the man in the kitchen in the new place. Lazone has made a batch of turtle soup in the old style, which I always regarded as the best in New Orleans.
Everybody seems to like my green blazer. I try to get some Irish songs going, but nobody wants to join in.
