Longtime listeners to the radio show are maybe too familiar with the personal stories of the Fitzmorris clan. Most are familiar with the wedding anniversary and our traditions surrounding it. There is pizza involved, and always the Windsor Court.
The first two nights in the penthouse suite were a wedding gift from the hotel. (It was very hard to leave there by limo and return to normal life.) Good thing we headed out the door immediately for a weeklong honeymoon to break up the contrast between a 2,000 square foot penthouse suite and reality.
But that experience set a powerful image in our mind of the “good life,” and we have returned there every year on February 11th for either dinner, or, on milestones, an overnight. In the last few years, due to Tom’s condition, our celebration has to be lunch. And since the show airs at 2 from the Northshore, it has to be a quick lunch.
We celebrated this special day in 2020 right before COVID lockdowns, and again last year, though that was such a depressing experience I almost swore off the practice permanently. But we had Jason Granger (director of Public Dining at the hotel) on the show this week and he assured me things had returned to normal. I decided to trust him.
Upon arrival I noticed there were still vestiges of the past two years. A menacing sign detailing COVID requirements outside a closed Polo Lounge was hardly welcoming, and another beside a closed double door entrance to the Grill Room gave off the same vibe.
In surrounding parishes people live normally, but I find a sad maybe imaginary stain on everything in New Orleans. Perhaps this will fade in time, as with hurricanes.
We were the first to arrive at the Grill Room, and as soon as we were seated at our “regular” table, the view of outside in the courtyard with the fountain of the soldier and valets moving about seemed familiar. The tables began to fill, and a large wedding party was celebrating in an adjacent room. Champagne corks popped and happy chatter filled the air, and before long it did indeed seem like old times.
We were handed regular menus, there were flowers on the tables, and a waiter friend came up to say hi. My expectations changed, and this would be a wonderful lunch.
For the past several years I have been so enthusiastic about the hotel’s playful interpretation of the classic American “Meat & Three” that I have brought many a friend there. It was also sadly scaled back last year, and I vowed to move away from it this year.
We stuck more with tradition and ordered off the regular menu. The Windsor Court salad is an integral part of our anniversary story. On our wedding night I awoke from an afternoon nap hungry, and since we were in such a fabulous suite there was no need to venture out. We ordered room service. Tom is a longtime fan of the house salad and that was the first thing ordered. A long discussion ensued about the point at which chopped egg becomes untenably small for me. (Yes, I admit it was a most peculiar way to spend a wedding night. But really, what can one expect from two people who spent four hours of a road trip arguing about the proper way to pronounce maraschino?) After much curious debate, it was decided that mashing chopped eggs in any way was over the line, and Tom has held these notions about me for our entire marriage. I don’t remember anything else eaten that wedding night, but that Windsor Court salad has become family lore.
It behooved us to get one this anniversary. And we did.
I have never paid much attention to the Windsor Court salad since that first night, but yesterday we ordered a regular-sized one, allowing both of us to eat well past a fill line.
The salad copies the Cobb salad, especially in its presentation. But the dressing is very peculiar, and I just noticed that on this anniversary visit. I didn’t care for it, really, so I asked what was in it. The taste was Thousand Island, but it couldn’t be, could it? That went out about the time the hotel began its existence in 1984.
I was told by the waiter that the Lorenzo dressing, as it is called, is a combination of vinaigrette and Thousand Island. I’ll remember that for next time. And this Windsor Court salad was very unlike the original wedding night version. Among the lines of ingredients on this one was paper thin radishes, the hip 21st century ingredient that was not worthy of any restaurant menu back in 1989. Proving that I have matured culinarily as well as in every other way, the eggs on this salad were shredded, and I still enjoyed them.
For entrees Tom had the grilled redfish over asparagus which was placed atop a mound of impossibly buttery risotto. The slab of fish was a perfect size, and the sear was exactly what I like - a crust that was almost flaky. This was very nice and predictably delicious.
I, having previously decided against another “Meat & Three”, should have stopped with my large half of the Windsor Court salad. I was quite satisfied, and the burger I ordered was truly ordinary.
To be fair, I asked for it medium well, but it was really cooked well-done. It had a bit of melted cheese, another sad boring tasteless pale tomato slice seen everywhere these days, more Thousand Islandish house-made magic burger sauce, and a pile of ordinary frozen fries. There were three tempura battered slightly greasy onion rings on the stack too. All this was $23. I know I have to get used to burgers in that price range because of current beef prices, but it was just too ordinary to justify the price. No more burgers for me for a while.
There wasn’t any time for a real dessert, so we ate the plate of chocolate covered strawberries the hotel sent out on an elongated platter with Happy Anniversary written in chocolate script. There were two kinds: dark chocolate and white chocolate, with horizontal contrasting stripes, and two pieces of fruit bark in the center. Lovely! And much-appreciated.
The best things on the table yesterday came in the beginning. I have gushed endlessly about the small cheese and herb biscuits and soft butter served here at lunch. Still great. But the chef sent out an amuse bouche as a gift which was another lovely gesture. And spectacularly delish.
Two small eggshell halves sat in a sea of peppercorns in a dish which was half a melted glass wine bottle. Inside these little cups was a generous pile of caviar atop a creamy mousse. Normally I would pass this to Tom. But Tom didn’t grasp it all, and the waiter was so delighted with his delivery I had to taste it in front of him. This was divine! I can take or leave caviar, but this fluffy mixture of potato and creme fraiche was a magnificent blend of ingredients, such that the potato was a mere hint, highlighting the caviar. The creme fraiche makes it glide down silkily. The salt in the caviar was the exact dab of perkiness. I could have eaten ten of these, but it was rich enough to be filling, especially since I stole half of Tom’s.
Everything about this anniversary lunch was what we were hoping and more. We left feeling that the hotel is as elegant as it was the very first time we went, and that made us happy.
