Friday, April 6, 2012.
The Penthouse At Chimes.
In the first year of my first job at the Time Saver in River Ridge at age thirteen, Monty Montgomery--the owner of Time Saver--ordered that his dozen stores would close between one and three on Good Friday afternoon. He paid the employees for the time, but said they could do whatever they wanted during the break.
With that in mind, I decided to refrain from going into town on this Good Friday. Mary Leigh is home from Tulane for Easter break, and the Marys said I could join them for lunch. But only if I were willing to do so on the deck at The Chimes. I go anywhere the Marys go.
So perfect was the weather that most of the tables out on the deck were full. The Marys found one in a spot I didn't know existed--upstairs on a sort of penthouse balcony, with only three other tables. This was even better as far as the girls were concerned, because it gave a great view of the big cypresses and the little creek that runs into the Bogue Falaya River, also visible beyond the greening trees.
More on my mind was the restaurant's blackened shrimp remoulade salad. The concept of blackened shrimp is a little odd, but these guys have nailed the technique. You use big shrimp, held tightly spooned into one another by a pair of skewers. The on goes the Creole seasoning and the butter, and into the red-hot skillet they go. The assemblage goes on top of a rather ordinary salad, with the remoulade dressing in a plastic cup. (I've groused about this enough lately not to have to say much about my disdain for salad dressings served on the side.)
Before that, Mary Leigh and I split a half-dozen enormous grilled oysters. I get all the oysters, she gets all the garlic-herb-pepper-parmesan butter and the dipping bread. Mary Ann made us uncomfortable by eating nothing at all.
A lot of people are taking the day (or at least the afternoon) off, so the radio show was a little slow. This always reminds me how reliant I am on the commuting audience.
The Chimes. Covington: 19130 W Front St. 985-892-5396.
