Friday, August 17, 2012.
Football Is Back. Ristorante Carmelo.
Phoning the show in from home--even on my studio-quality equipment--makes me feel guilty when I do it a lot. Three days this week. But I figured I had a good excuse to stay put today. In the pre-K days when our offices were next to the Superdome, parking and traffic were so challenging when the Saints played their annual Friday-night home game that anyone who could escape it did. We moved and no longer have that problem, but I keep the tradition anyway.
Ironically, one of the cars jamming the dome area carried the Marys. They scored a pair of prime tickets to the game, courtesy Chef Duke Locicero. Just two, though: my perfect attendance record at Saints games continues unblemished.
Dining alone after the radio show, I knew just what I wanted: Ristorante Carmelo. I figured the game would open many tables around town, but the opposite happened here. Carmelo was busier than I've seen it in a long time. The game was on a modest screen at the bar, and that was it. I could neither hear nor see the game's progress from where I was. None of the other people seemed to care, either.
Started with a Negroni. (Right, next to the Caprese salad.) Carmelo Chirico's formula for that Italian drink classic is a little offbeat: he uses equal amounts of gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari, with no club soda. This gives it quite a punch. Limit one, that's for sure.
Homemade focaccia and olive oil on the side. Uh-oh. Better watch it. Bread is the greatest obstacle in my strivings to reduce my beam. Next a demi-Caprese salad: one slice each of tomato and mozzarella. A few slices of sopressata on the side. Another plate came with a single but very large shrimp, prepared "barbecue style lite," I'd call it--was the best flavor of what would be six courses.
Now three fried squid with a red sauce, shot up with Carmelo's house-grown (they're in pots in front of the restaurant), very hot peppers. I ate a bigger piece of pepper than I should have, which made me eat some more focaccia to remove the pepper oil. The last of the preliminaries was hand-made pappardelle noodles, with a few kinds of mushrooms, truffle, and cream. Dishes along this line have been among Carmelo's best offerings since he opened.
Carmelo sold me on his steaming a whole red snapper "in cartoccio"--Italian for "en papillote," in turn French for "in a paper bag." That concept seems to be resurging lately. It wasn't the way I would have asked for it, but I went along with the idea because a) I always pay attention to suggestions from restaurant personnel and 2) the last time I had fish done that way here, it was disassembled and served at an outdoor table by Carmelo's daughter Lucia. A few days later she was killed on the highway. She was a lovely, personable young woman, and I still think about her and miss her every time I come to the restaurant.
Wrapped things up with a macedoine (I can't remember the last time I had this dessert of chopped fruits and cream), which came to the table in a martini glass with a cooking sticking up as if it were giving me the finger.
A couple of espressos. Three tables stood between my dinner and my departure, all of them occupied by people who wanted to meet and talk with me. When I dine alone, I never really am. I hope it's always thus.
Carmelo is doing better than I thought. He said his wine dinner last week drew fifty-four people, and he fills all the spaces every month with his Saturday morning cooking classes. This is what a restaurateur must do to keep his head above water these days.
Carmelo. Mandeville: 1901 US Hwy 190. 985-624-4844.
