On Saturday, I went to the South Shore to eat, but on the bridge, a squall arose that was terrifying because I lost my bearings.It was impossible to see anything, including the rails of the bridge. It was like drowning in the car. Fortunately, I was just about off the bridge, and the only way I knew that was that I had seen a marker before the squall. What I didn’t know then was that this same rain was flooding so many parts of New Orleans that I would be thwarted anywhere I turned by cop cars stradling streets to protect people from being swallowed up in their cars. My biggest fear turned out to be one where there was no cop car, and I did get swallowed up in my car.
Finally, I turned for home and stopped at a place I love and hate. For some reason, Station 6 appealed to me. It was open mid- afternoon on a Saturday, so I sat in that enclosed patio part in the front. The odd combination of colors here, the slate blue and bright orange, was Tom’s favorite color combination. Station 6 is the only other place I have ever seen these two contrasts together. I sat there thinking of Tom’s early books, which usually sported them.
I wasn’t that hungry, so I ordered only a soup and a salad. Originally, I felt like fried seafood, but decided against it because I didn’t want catfish, even wild-caught catfish. They don’t cut their fries on site (which surprises me) so I didn’t get fried seafood.
I have been to Station 6 a fair amount, and even though I have favorites on the menu, I wanted something different. The soup du jour always tends to be odd, but I went for it anyway. I also find their soups expensive. This sort-of gumbo was $13 for a cup. I wished I had gotten a bowl and stopped there, but I would never get a bowl of soup here because I’ve found it hit or miss.
This one was a hit. Definitely. It was a Creole-style vegetable soup with andouille and shrimp. All that was needed to make it a gumbo was okra, I guess. And why not? There was enough corn to make it prominent, and a few other things in there. Plenty of good shrimp and great andouille made this a very tasty potage.
What followed next was a Shrimp Remoulade salad, but it too was odd. It really didn’t need a bowl because the Bibb lettuce was fanned out in such a way that a bowl was created. Inside the lettuce bowl was a bed of beautiful red tomato slices with what seemed like a Green Goddess dressing, with about a half dozen nice shrimp scattered about, covered in Remoulade Sauce. A huge pile of cold and stale fried onion strings killed the vibe.
This was a fine salad, meaning “fine” but I wouldn’t get it again. At some point, I’m going to have to pass the very cool Station 6 and not want to go in.