Saturday, January 8, 2011. Saints Go Down. Last Supper. I couldn't get clear as to what day this was, even though Mary Ann and I began it with a distinctive behavior: breakfast at the Courtyard. The best scrambled eggs in town were still there, along with the super-thin bacon I recommended to a guy on the radio yesterday. He wanted to wrap sea scallops with bacon, and I thought of this stuff immediately. The Courtyard's bacon is even perfectly underfried.
The rest of the day disappeared in catching up with the dozens of miscellaneous, mostly mindless tasks that have a way of piling up on my desk. Some day, I will have an assistant doing this stuff. Mary Ann calls this ambition "Freeing The Slave."
The Marys left the ranch at three to watch the football game at WOW Wingery. Why there? "The food's a lot better than it used to be," MA says. "The menu is as big as New Orleans Hamburger And Seafood." We used to go to WOW a lot when it opened its original restaurant in Covington, but I haven't been there since well before the hurricane.
Mary Leigh said she wanted to eat at the Acme one more time before heading back to Tulane tomorrow. I was surprised that they showed up back at the house at around five. "The momentum is with the other team," she said. Oh--that's right. This is the Saints' playoff game. I've been predicting that the Saints would be in the Super Bowl again. I know nothing about the teams, but I do know that since my sixtieth birthday falls on Super Bowl Sunday, the Saints will grab all the attention and attendance from anything I might do to celebrate this milestone. Bah!
The Marys sat in the living room and watched the Saints almost win. They get too involved, I think. Mary Ann agrees with me that her greatest threat of having a heart attack will come during a Saints game.
Then off to the Acme. Full house, but we waited it out. Grilled oysters. The Marys say the Acme's aren't as good as Drago's I disagree, but they certainly aren't bad.
Wedge salad to my right, cup of red beans to my left. In front of me was a grilled fillet of what they said was black drum. I'll take them at their word, but if you asked me to guess what this fish was I'd say tilapia or badly-frozen mystery fish. That soft texture with no flakiness is something I can't stand. Well, now I can scratch off something else from the Acme's menu. The oysters in all forms, the soups, the salads, most of the poor boys, and the red beans are plenty enough to keep me as a regular.
Even at bedtime, I still had to concentrate to remember what day it is. Saturday! Wow! Another day off tomorrow!
