It was a big weekend for the food community across New Orleans. In St. Tammany we could go back into restaurants on Friday and in Orleans Parish that day was Saturday. Here at nomenu.com, we patronized three places, and got a good look at this strange new (hopefully temporary) reality.
First: Saturday. Because El Gato Negro is set up in such a way as to require outdoor or indoor diners heading in separate directions, we didn’t see how many people were sitting in the restaurant. The hostess in the front allowed us to get a tea from the bar and sit on the patio. A masked waiter came to ask us a few questions and sort of morphed into being a server. We were I think supposed to get food and bring it back to our table, but he gave us service. Queso Fundido, nachos, and guacamole came in styrofoam, but the chips in a basket? This was all as good as usual, which is very good. Particularly the guacamole. The nachos are accentuated nicely by corn and onions. This is fantastic queso, and with all this great stuff needing a dipper, I wish they’d improve their dipper.
Proving that there is no upper limit to the passion the Marys have for Mexican food, we went back to La Caretta on Sunday for lunch. We have seen our favorite hangout a few times throughout this, pulling up for takeout at the indoor/outdoor wall that has been serving as the take-out counter under the big white tent in what used to be valuable parking spaces. I looked sadly at the tables that used to be such a part of our life, chairs piled on them, all pushed to one area.
A hushed, heavy sigh came from inside me as I lamented this turn of events for us both: La Carreta, and me such a regular customer. And then my food was delivered by a masked employee that used to smile at me. I took my bag of styrofoam containers and went home. Sad.
In a slight easing, we were on May 1st allowed to sit there with a few tables that were righted, a pile of styrofoam containers delivered to us at a table that was heavily sanitized by masked and gloved people before we sat. Yes, we were there, and yes, there was the queso, but it was hardly the same.
So yesterday we eagerly went back to La Carreta, expecting to see some degree of normalcy. The white tent was still there with the dispensing station. The tables were set up to keep their social distancing, and the poor waiters were masked and gloved. All this I expected. What I didn’t expect was to still be served in take-out containers. I skipped ordering tea because I just won’t put my lips on a styrofoam cup. All tea refills required another cup because no pitchers were being used. This was probably good for us because we drink too much tea. There was some food in regular dishes, but all the silverware was plastic in bags, chips came in bags that tried to blow off the table, salsa in styrofoam.
From behind her mask our waitress kept apologizing for slow food delivery (we didn’t complain, we felt bad for them) explaining that the “ guidelines” required limited kitchen staff.
Tom and I went to Di Martino’s for dinner. There was one table set by the piano, which thankfully for them is self-playing. Had there been a human there “restrictions” wouldn't have allowed for anyone to be seated nearby. Tom’s regular waitress assured us she was smiling behind her mask. I felt sorry for our server who had to pick up Tom’s little sugar caddy with his gloves.
There was real silverware here and real dishes. Diners were spread out all over the room, with one section closed because booths were immovable.
This too was depressing, except for the delightful conversation provided by Peter DiMartino visiting our table. I would have enjoyed that more too if I could have seen his face. Getting into the car I remembered this was the last place we ate before everything changed. Feels like another lifetime.
In short, all of this seems to be little different from what we have done for nine weeks. We’ve very much enjoyed getting food by take-out or delivery, and as we say in our D’liverynola commercial on the new WGSO radio Food Show, even Tom has conceded that gourmet food can still be delicious this way. (Obviously not as good as dining in, but we manage.) We will continuously and enthusiastically support all efforts to keep ourselves well fed and keep our beloved restaurants afloat. And we are confident everyone else in this town will do the same. So much depends on it.
Throughout the years many restaurateurs have confided to us their belief that there are too many restaurants in this town. I have always replied that the good ones will survive. I fear that is no longer true. It would not surprise me if 25 -30 percent of restaurants do not make it through this. It is one thing if your business fails because of your own bad decisions, and quite another if someone else’s decisions did you in.
