Saturday, June 8, 2013.
Talking To Doctors At The Bon Ton.
Yesterday, at the request of one of my radio show callers, I worked up a list of the best omelettes in town. One of them was from the Courtyard Cafe at the Marriott in Covington, where I don't have breakfast nearly as often as the kids and I once did. That makes it nostalgic when, every couple of months, I make my way back there. Usually on a day when I am home alone, with everybody else out of town.
I was there today, made hungry by my writing about their omelettes. Chef Gloria made a bulging, beautiful ham-and-cheese job, just like I wrote about yesterday. And Faith, who has served my table for a long time, was there too. They are on a string going through my life, one I'd hate to see broken.
Noon to three I was on the radio. A forty-five minute walk around the Cool Water Ranch and a nap followed. And then it was time to cross the lake for dinner with some doctors at the Bon Ton. This was a group of physicians who graduated from the LSU School of Medicine fifty years ago. The Bon Ton isn't usually open on Saturday, but they unlocked the door for these guys. There were enough of them to fill the room.
After an hour of reunion, the doctors sat down and, one by one, told what they were up to these days. A few of them were still practicing medicine full-time, but most were retired--some for many years. But at least half of the retirees were involved in health-related activities. They worked with needy people and charitable initiatives. Or served in consultancies in hospitals.
I found these reports moving. They also made me wonder how I could possibly follow those highly significant accomplishments with the kind of jokey stuff that I jabber about.
However, armed with the three anecdotes with which I've begun these talks for thirty years, I got them laughing. And then we were off and running with the report on the health of the New Orleans restaurant scene, and more particular questions. I think I got out without embarrassing myself. And the doctors bought forty of my cookbooks.
A major point of agreement among all the doctors and their wives and husbands was that the Bon Ton was the perfect place for this event. We started with gumbo, went on to the house salad, then to redfish Bon Ton (with crabmeat and butter) or crawfish etouffee. Bread pudding at the end, of course.
On the hour-long drive home, I wondered whether I could have been a doctor, or something else of more substance than I made myself. I'll never know, which is probably a good thing. My opinion of myself has been dropping quite rapidly enough lately.
Courtyard Cafe. Covington: 101 Northpark Blvd. 504-871-0244.
