Friday, October 30, 2009. The Irritating Part. Mike's Without Mike. I was up well before the first announcement about the ship's disembarkation ordeal, but with plenty enough sleep. I made a quick pass through the boofay for juice, coffee and French toast. I noticed that the pickings were sparse on the boofay this morning. Hardly any fresh fruit. They're done with us.
The only available tables were on the open aft deck. Warmer than I expected--in the high fifties, instead of the thirties of the past few days. The sun over the Hudson River illuminated the autumn-colored trees on the New Jersey palisades across from Manhattan. A perfect setting in which to begin the day and end the cruise.
By eight-thirty, without rushing, I was ready to go. I could have stayed another hour and a half, but for what? I nudged through the several lines between me and the airport shuttle. Already on the bus were Fred Rittler and his wife. Fred is the guy who owns Bassil's Ace Hardware, a regular radio sponsor and seller of the Big Green Egg. He and his wife were part of our Eat Club group--for the second time. They were smiling, which at the end of one of our voyages is a nice thing to see.
Traffic was light by New York standards from the dock to La Guardia. I thought about other ways I could have gone home. The train, for example. It would take an extra day, but me more pleasant. Better yet, I could have stayed on the ship, and let it move me to Miami. Our cruise was the last for the Jewel's Canada season. Tonight it heads south on a fourteen-day Caribbean relocation cruise.
My longest cruise was fourteen days. I wonder what cruising for a whole month is like. An around-the world cruise, which takes about 100 days, is something I want to do someday. Mary Ann will not hear of it, and I doubt the radio station would look kindly on the idea. This dream would require two major personal disasters.
In the three hours at the airport, I asembled an entire newsletter. But I couldn't send it out! The Boingo wireless in the airport--always reliable in past trips--would not let me log on. I hope my readers don't abandon me because of this failure.
I flew out on one of those small Embraer planes--one row of seats on one side, two on the other, and a single attendant who would only bring you something to drink if you asked. It left late and took a long time getting to the terminal at Washington Dulles. That made my connection to New Orleans iffy. I needn't have worried. That flight was over an hour late in departing. Not that I was in a hurry. A front was dumping a large amount of rain on New Orleans. We flew through a little of that during the final approach, but it wasn't as bumpy as either I or the crew thought it would be.
The delays made me But we were late enough that Mary Ann had more than enough time to get to the airport after doing my radio show, and still have time to send an impatient text message demanding to know where I was.
The reunited lovebirds went to dinner. I was ready with a suggestion I thought she'd like: the Fat Hen Grill. But MA said she was overdressed for that (like I wasn't?), and suggested we go to Michael's instead. She wants me to do commercials for them again. With the departure of Mike Uddo, I don't feel good about that without at least a new look.
So we looked. And tasted. The onion rings were different from the great ones they had when the place opened. And just warm when they arrived at the table. Barbecue shrimp were peeled and awash in a slightly sweet sauce that wasn't bad, but tasted only vaguely like what I think of as barbecue shrimp.
The menu is much less interesting than during the Mike Uddo days. The best steak--the strip--is gone. So are the better seafood dishes I remember. I've heard a little buzz about the brisket, which is allegedly the same as that served by the old Sal and Sam's. Sal and Sam's is two restaurants gone now, and why we should be trying to channel its memory is a mystery to me. At its best, it was just okay, and for its last five or ten years it was pretty bad.
The brisket served when Mike Uddo was in the kitchen was not right--it was all shredded. The waitress tonight promised big chunks now. Well, yes and no. A lot of chunks, but a lot of shreds, too. None of it worth eating. The sauce was more like roast beef gravy than the stock with vegetables that Sal and Sam's (and everybody else) served when brisket was a common dish around town.
"So you won't do a spot for them?" Mary Ann asked, seeing a sale fly away from her grasp. I just gave her a look. We come back together after two weeks apart, and quickly have an issue.
But it was nice to be home. Both dogs greeted me without snapping. The cat Twinnery was purring to see me, his best buddy, after who knows what kind of treatment the Marys have given him. I was so tired I almost fell asleep in the car. But I outlasted the girls, and stayed up until midnight, unpacking and putting a small dent in the 829 e-mail messages (this is no exaggeration) awaiting me. And no towel animal to keep me company.
Mike's American Grill. Metairie: 4300 Veterans Blvd. 504-885-5566. American. Steak. Brunch.
