Monday, January 4. Graham Kreicker. Arnaud's Is Dead, Like Everybody Else. The temperature went down to twenty-three last night. The forecast says we'll see thirteen this Thursday or Friday. This news brings out the old man in me. I have to tell him that in the very worst case, some pipes will burst, and really, how much would that cost to fix? And they probably won't. But. . .
It was good, then, that I was visited by my dynamic seventy-three-year-old friend Graham Kreicker. (That's really his name.) I almost married his daughter Kim in 1980. She and I were together for a couple of years, but she decided I wasn't what she was looking for and moved on. Graham and I remained friends, however, and during the years in which he lived in Chicago we got together for dinner every time I visited there or he visited here. He retired and moved to Lawrence, Kansas, where Kim is an English professor.
Graham retired eleven years ago, but keeps busy. In a week, he will fly to Paraguay to spend a year there teaching English to adult students. He flew his own plane for years, was a colonel in the Marines, took a ship to Antarctica, and has had a pretty interesting life. He and I share a cornball sense of humor, and our heads are filled with far too many miscellaneous facts. (Kim said that one of the reasons she liked me was that I reminded her of her dad. We agreed this is not a good thing upon which to build a marriage.)
Graham, the Marys and I had dinner at Arnaud's. I got off the air earlier than I thought, and was in the bar well before the others. It was a quiet night--as a Monday after New Year weekend would predictably be, especially with the cold temperatures that have descended on the city. (I'll bet a few restaurants shot blanks tonight.)
After a couple of French 75s in the bar, we took a table in the corner of the main dining room, and Graham and I caught up with one another. It was the first meaningful time he and Mary Leigh have met; the only other time, she was just a few months old.
We had a terrific dinner. Soufflee potatoes and cold smoked pompano--a good beginning. Then baked oysters five ways, good enough to make me think that this is the best baked oyster dish in town. Shrimp Arnaud (the classic remoulade) and turtle soup. Graham and I both had the pompano David, a simple but delicious dish of grilled fillet with a brushing of spicy, herby olive oil. Mary Leigh remained true to her beloved filet mignon, and Mary Ann stayed classical with trout meuniere. The girls looked on as Graham and I made sure that bread pudding Fitzmorris got enough orders to remain on the menu for another year. (Although this batch was on the dry side.)
The girls left early. Graham and I palavered over coffee for another half-hour. We made arrangements to meet tomorrow. He walked the three blocks to his hotel, and I left for home through a very cold north wind.
Arnaud's. French Quarter: 813 Bienville 504-523-5433. Classic Creole.
