Saturday, August 22, 2009.
Tailgate And BBQ Festival. Bosco's.
After many days of frog-strangling thunderstorms, the sun resumed the radiation for which August is disdained. This was both good news and bad for a big new eating-and-drinking event downtown. The Tailgate and BBQ Festival is half indoors and half out, at the uptown end of the convention center. The outside part uses a patch of land originally bought and cleared for the proposed next phase of the Morial Convention Center. But it seems clear that Halls K and L won't be needed any time soon--let alone Halls Q and R.
The land where these would have been built is now being turned into a festival grounds. A good idea--but much development needs to be done. At the moment, it's a large lot covered with rocks--not rounded gravel, but those jagged stone shards that are hard on the feet even with good shoes. The only shade was provided by tents. Trees and grass are desperately needed, and surely will come. But the Tailgate and BBQ Festival's first running is also the first event to use the new fair grounds. Those of us who showed up will now be able to remember it when it was in a rocky, hot lot.
This new to-do is as much about the beginning of football season as about food. It's only the connection between tailgating and barbecue that brought me here. My record of attendance at Saints, Tulane, or LSU games remains perfect: I've never been to even one of them. But the radio station is one of the official sponsors of the event, and it asked me to broadcast my show from it. With my own equipment, yet. That meant going in an hour early, to set up. It's only when I do this that everything works perfectly the first time. I also pleased to find that my setup was safely inside Hall J instead of outside in the roasting sun.
The organizer of the party felt he could bring a continuous stream of his people to talk with me for two hours, and did. The ones I would most have liked to put on the air were the participants in the barbecue competition outside on the rocks. This is a sanctioned event on the Kansas City Barbecue Society circuit--the major leagues of battling barbecue. The judging coincided with the hours I was on the air, so none of the cooks were available--although I did talk with a couple of judges.
One of those was Joe Cahn--the Commissioner of Tailgating, master of jambalaya, and a friend for some thirty-five years. He's lost a lot of weight since last I saw him. He says he's been walking several miles a day, but that wasn't the only explanation. The other is colon cancer. He says he's clear now, but it's really changed his diet. I'll bet. But he's back on the road with his bus-like RV, driving from coast to coast several times through the football season to observe tailgating all over America. What an interesting way to make a living! Joe needs to write a book.
One of the festival vendors did ten minutes with me on the line of trailers and RVs he had displayed in Hall J. This went deep into infomercial mode, with the guy detailing the monthly payment plans available on some of his units. One of them costs a half-million. It had me wanting one. I wonder how long one must drive around the country in a bus before one gets sick of it--or does that happen?
Another guest who tested my abilities as an interviewer was Eric Hill, a former football star for LSU and the pros. "How do you like St. Louis?" I asked, having been told that he played for the Cardinals, but not knowing that the Cardinals are in Arizona now. And it went downhill from there. Nice guy, though, and a convincing athlete who has not let his conditioning lapse.
The organizer ran out of gas after two hours, by which time the show was supposed to have ended. But I learned that I would be on the air all the way until three. Part of this surprise was nice: I had no trouble at all filling the time with phone calls, after two hours of not taking a single one of them.
After it wrapped up, I walked around Field K and talked to some of the vendors. VooDoo, The Joint, and a few other barbecue providers were selling not very much to the not very many attendees. Nobody was clambering up the rock-climbing wall. It was just too hot for any of that. Some people on chairs in a tent watched Chef Greg Reggio grill alligator on a Big Green Egg. A four-piece band played music from the big stage. I left.
On the way home, I took pictures of the exteriors of Emeril's and Commander's Palace, to flesh out the graphics the publisher requested for "Hungry Town." How much better this book would have been had I not lost thirty years of photographs in Katrina! I also needed a photo of a good, sloppy roast beef poor boy. To that end I made my first visit since Katrina to Guy's Po-Boys on Magazine Street. That little shop is held in the highest regard by its regulars. There's no question that it's a classic poor boy shop in a lot of ways. Don't think I'd put in my top five, though. The roast beef I had today didn't change my mind, although I did enjoy it. I ordered the small one, and was uncomfortably full after eating one of the halves into which it had been cut. The rest will come home for somebody else.
Mary Leigh said she had a hunger for dinner at Bosco's, one of her favorites. We have not been there in awhile. I wasn't really hungry--that poor boy could have covered my eating needs for the entire day. But when my daughter says she wants to go out with me, I go. Mary Ann decided she'd come along, too.
Tony Bosco had a new veal special. New to Bosco's, anyway. It was a nice slice of panneed veal topped with crabmeat, artichokes, and mushrooms in a butter sauce. Maybe he picked up that one during his time in the kitchen at Sal and Judy's. If so, he has to check back with Sal about how long to cook the veal. If I have any complaint about this generally delicious, grossly underpriced restaurant, it's that anything pan-fried comes out overcooked.
A couple of days ago on the radio, a caller extolled the Brooklyn cocktail. It starts with rye whiskey and sweet vermouth, like a Manhattan. But instead of the usual bitters, it contains a half-ounce of Campari. Interesting! I had them make one for me at Bosco's, and it was right on the money. To quote an old ad, I'm one of the nine out of ten thousand drinkers who like Campari.
Guy's Po-Boys. Uptown: 5257 Magazine. 504-891-5025 . Sandwiches.
Bosco’s. Mandeville: 2040 La. Hwy. 59 985-624-5066. Italian.
