Sunday, April 1, 2012.
Palms. No Fooling. Chicken Diabla.
Mary Ann makes more out of Palm Sunday than anyone else in our lukewarm family. "I like getting the palms as a blessing on the house," she says. But we always seem to pick the Mass in which is read the longest Gospel of the year, shortened at most other Palm Sunday Masses. I get the impression that she thinks of this as a penance.
This year's was at St. Jane's in Abita Springs, the closest church to our house by many miles. We don't go there often, because the church is small and the music isn't as inspiring. But that's a problem for me generally these days. Everywhere I go, all the hymns are new to me, as are the responses. I guess I'd better get used to it. One good thing: I find that I can sight-read music far better than I could ten years ago.
Today is April Fool's Day, on which I have published and broadcast a fraudulent restaurant report every year since 1975. The theme for most of those was a too-good-to-be-real restaurant. No matter how preposterous it was, a fair (and sometimes unfair) number of people bit for it. A lot of folks look forward to it. I hope they will not be disappointed that I skip the prank when April 1 falls on a Sunday, when I neither publish nor broadcast. It doesn't work to postpone it a day, because instead of laughing people get mad. (Many of them do that anyway.)
Jude called this morning to tell me about a new restaurant next door to his house in Studio City, owned by Mario Batali, Emeril, and Wolfgang Puck. It serves sushi, for a dollar a piece. That's when I caught his intent. That's my boy, keeping the tradition alive! As for the Marys, once they catch on to my April Fool stories (it usually takes three or four), they just roll their eyes or ignore me completely thereafter. I never get a laugh from them. The April Fool gene must be on the Y chromosome, probably right next to the Three Stooges gene.
Mary Leigh drove all the way across the lake and back to join us for lunch at La Carreta. That is almost a Sunday tradition for us. The funny thing about it today was that ML only ate chips, salsa and queso. No entree. I wanted to see whether the chicken diabla could possibly be as delicious as last time. It was. The sauce is made of chilpotle peppers and tomato, with the thickness of ketchup. The look of the dish could use some work--they just toss the chicken pieces with the sauce--but the flavor is beyond reproach.
I updated the Easter page for the website, then spent a few hours drawing headers for three new website departments I plan to mount in the upcoming months. When done, this will bring the number of current articles on NOMenu.com to over 5,000. My theory is that it will become the main source for New Orleans dining information by sheer volume of content. Either that, or I will be found to have a compulsive mental illness.
La Carreta. Mandeville: 1200 W Causeway Approach. 985-624-2990.
