Saturday, May 26, 2012.
Mattina Bella's Hero. Riverbend Seminar. Square Dancing.
The hectic pace continued today, but I was happy to make time for breakfast at Mattina Bella with Mary Ann, who suggested it. We haven't been there in quite awhile, even though it has been (and would prove to be still) the best breakfast place on the North Shore. Pancakes for MA--fluffy, light, great flavor, despite a secret I know about the recipe that would make one conclude otherwise. But if it tastes good, it is good.
My breakfast was the kind of thing I'd expect at Brennan's or Commander's or the like. Two eggs poached to the perfect ensemble of textures, on top of a stratum of jumbo lump (and it really was) crabmeat with mushrooms and English muffins, hollandaise over the top. It was without flaw. Elegant, even.
Owner Vincent Riccobono is back at work with an eye patch. He turned up with a rare and weird cancer of the retina, and had to have his right eye removed. Why do such awful things happen to such nice people? was the thought Mary Ann and I had simultaneously. But Vincent was smiling, talking about how one of his former waitresses just made the Saintsations team.
From that relaxed start the day became hectic. Into town I went for the New Orleans Wine And Food Experience's seminars. I have been the moderator of one of those for many years. They have all been orchestrated by Anne Gooch, one of the founders of NOW&FE and a lifelong bon vivant. She passed away a few months ago, but not before planning this seminar completely. Her husband David Gooch (fourth-generation descendent of the founder of Galatoire's, and a managing partner of the restaurant) said that even when Anne was on her deathbed, she was still concerned about making sure this seminar went well.
I don't know how it could have missed. It focused on the restaurants of the Riverbend section, of which there is not only a large number (at least two dozen within easy walking distance of one another), but a unifying style. Nobody in Riverbend does major atmosphere. They allow their old converted cottages speak for themselves.
Indeed, the chefs got into a discussion about which of their kitchens' floors had the greatest sag. Frank Brigtsen said that he'd rebuilt the floor in his microscopic kitchen three times in the twenty-five years he's been there. One time, it was days away from collapsing.
E-Man Loubier, Frank Brigtsen, Scotty Snodgrass, Nathaniel Zimet.
The other three chefs were E-Man Loubier of Dante's Kitchen, right across the street from Brigtsen's; Nathaniel Zimet, the co-owner of Boucherie; and Scotty Snodgrass of One. I accused Scotty of having the smallest dining room of the four--that being another hallmark of the Riverbend's restaurants. But Nathaniel remonstrated, saying that with thirty-something seats Boucherie was at least three tables less commodious than One.
The chefs each cooked a dish, and wines were matched with them. We began with Scotty's great Asian-style seared tuna, whose cole slaw side received as much interest from the forty or so attendees as the tuna itself did. Next came Frank's just-baked shrimp cornbread, topped with a knob of shrimp butter. That's an element of his celebrated unfried seafood platter, a.k.a. The Shell Beach Diet.
Now Nathaniel came forward with a crisp-skinned duck confit. In the kitchen, I had watched students from the Culinary Institute of Louisiana debone the duck legs and slice up a fascinating, salad-like commingling of unusual root vegetables, including a watermelon radishes and black Italian truffles. Beautiful dish, and good, too.
The creation people talked about most was a different confit, this one of pork, from the hand of E-Man. Pork butt steak, to be exact, falling apart on the plate. He had a long story about developing this dish, and how the trick was to keep it together during the slow, low cooking, while at the same time getting an appealing crust on the thing.
All the wines were French and under $15. We began with Chateau de Campuget rosé from the South of France. Tim McNally was the fifth or six person this week to note that rosés are coming on strong lately, so it must be true. The next wine was much more interesting, though. Vidal-Fleurie Viognier was much fuller in flavor than I expected, and great even with the sharply-flavored tuna.
Wine of the day honors go to the generic Pinot Noir from Jadot. A wine of this grade twenty years ago would have been the most boring, thin wine of the week. Now they have body and density of flavor, thanks to the need to satisfy the American palate. The yummy pork confit was paired with a nice, big Cotes du Rhone from Delas.
While pouring some leftover wine into the glasses of the happy stragglers, the alarm went off in my pocket. Time to stop, walk the six blocks to the radio station, and get on the air with my three hours of food talk. I told the story of the seminar, but only one person called to talk about NOW&FE.
I drove home by way of Slidell, as I do for no particular reason when I find myself on the South Shore on a weekend. That gave me barely enough time to shower and take a short nap before we were off to the next fete.
This one was an engagement party for Daniel Montgomery. He and Jude took the same car pool to Jesuit for a couple of years. One of Jude's contemporaries is getting married? Ah. The milestones keep coming at us, faster and faster.
The party was at a place I had not visited since 1964. Monty Montgomery--Daniel's grandfather and the founder of the now-extinct but long-dominant Time Saver chain of convenience stores--has a big piece of rural land north of Covington. I worked for Time Saver through high school and college, and during that time the company gave an employee party at Monty's spread.
I remember that even then Monty was a fan of square dancing. He seems to have passed this on to his whole family, and they regularly have barn-dance parties. Mary Ann, who developed a taste for square dancing in her teens, was delighted by this. Like the other two dozen people on the floor, she was smiling gleefully as the intricate dance somehow fell into place, assisted by a genuine square dance caller. I would have tried it myself, but I'm not sure that my bad ankle is up to all that jumping around. It was fun enough watching this obvious source of happiness, corny though it was.
It's over three years since a day was missed in the Dining Diary. To browse through all of the entries since 2008, go here.
