Tuesday, December 27, 2016.
Breakfast at Abita Roaster.
During the Christmas visit of Jude & Company, we establish a habit of having a serious breakfast every day. It's mildly reminiscent of the years when Jude and Mary Leuigh were little kids, and I took them to breakfast every week, leaving MA at home.
Today the breakfast is at Abita Roaster in Covington, whose menu continues to grow. Jude is thrilled by the Sunriser, a combo breakfast that brings too much of everything imaginable to the table. But those twenty-something guys can eat like horses. As I surely did when I was that age, with the best possible excuse for overeating.
I head into town for the radio show. Only a skeleton staff is present. It's easy to see who the real go-getting salespeople are.
On the air almost nobody is listens to me, let alone calls. I throw everything I've got at the attenuated audience, but we come up with very little. I was getting desperate by the end. It must have sounded awful, which brings in further awfulness.
For dinner we (the Marys, Baby Jackson, his mom and pop, and me) go to Meribo, which reminds Mary Ann of her favorite restaurant in Los Angeles. In fact, she says it's her favorite restaurant in the world: Bottega Louie, which is a pretty keen place. I can't figure out the attraction at Meribo, whose menu tries too hard to be different. It was a tremendous success in its early months, but it may be too hip for the room now that everyone has had a taste of it.
Meribo does make good pizza in a brick oven. A few of the pasta dishes are also offbeat in a delicious way. The house seafood specialty is whole fish, which I like personally but which may be too great a challenge for potential regulars.
Somewhere in all these details we have an order of arancini and rigatoni on the spicy side. For dessert I have something between a fruit tart and a cannoli. It doesn't work.
Meribo. Covington: 326 N. Lee Lane. 985-302-5533.
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Wednesday, December 28, 2016.
Jackson Is Presented To Society.
This is the first visit our one-year-old grandson has been to New Orleans. At this season the time is perfect for us to introduce him to our friends and family. Mary Ann set up a party at Andy's Bistro in Metairie, where many logical guests live. Andy's has just returned from a lengthy pause caused by a bad fire in the kitchen. A lot of people were hanging out in the bar and having dinner, and we were on the second floor--a space I've long known was there, but which I haven't thought about in a long time.
Here were two of my three sisters, my niece, Jude's godparents, many of MA's nieces and nephews, and a few miscellaneous friends. I arrived a little late after my radio show ended, but soon enough to sample the hamburger bar, and the pizzas (we seem to be eating a lot of pie lately, but who doesn't love well-made pizza?). Also here are salads, pasta dishes, and red velvet cheesecake. By coincidence I made just such a cheesecake for Thanksgiving some years ago; the color was offputting for some.
And, of course, one-year-old Jackson was the star, charming as he can all in attendance. From then on, if one of our guests wanted to see Jackson about something, he will have to fly to Los Angeles to do it.
The room also received approval. As a casual venue for some thirty people eating pizza and burgers with wine, it was perfect.
Andy's Bistro. Metairie: 3322 N. Turnbull Dr. 504-455-7363.
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Thursday, December 29, 2016.
More Breakfast. More Pizza.
Breakfast at the Abita Springs Café, where we have not been in a long time. Mary Ann decides she likes the place now, and Jude's wife Suzanne seems to be charmed with it. Their baby Jackson likes it well enough, and has a breakfast of scrambled eggs, yogurt, and raspberries. He has a lot of fun juggling jelly packets. The boy almost never stops smiling.
Back in town for the radio show. Still not much staff show themselves, although the sales guys seem to be occupied with planning something or other. I compose a plan to keep my show under control through the echoing, empty airwaves. It remains a very slow show with the callers, but I think it was listenable.
After I finish giving forth with the mausoleum of the air, I strut to the Roosevelt Hotel, where I meet the Marys, Jude and Jackson at Dominica. There we come close to having a dinner about twice as big as we need. I know this to be true, because we've had quite a few dinners at Dominica in the past few months, usually following concerts at the Orpheum.
We have two pizzas before us: one very spicy, the other a mild pie with many kinds of cured or smoked pork. That's followed by lasagna made with spinach pasta, rigatoni with a peppery red sauce, roasted half of a chicken, and tagliatelli pasta with black squid ink and crabmeat. The latter has been the best dish at Dominica since the restaurant opened.
Somehow, we have only one car for the five people (counting Jackson) present at Dominica. If I had known that, I wouldn't have hoofed the ten blocks from the radio station. On top of that, it's getting windy and cold. The people and automobiles sort themselves out, and I find myself driving home alone.
