Sunday, April 29, 2012.
Easy. Soft-Shell Eggs And Soft-Meat Ribs.
I'm in the middle of a collection of short stories John Updike wrote about the Maples, a fictional couple. It follows them from their early years of marriage, raising three kids, then their descent toward divorce. Throughout the stories, it comes out that both Maples have affairs, usually with people they both know. All of this is presented in an offhand, humorous way, as if these things happen to everybody. Updike began writing the stories in the 1950s, a time allegedly before everything went wrong in America. What bothers me is that while I know a few people who've divorced, I don't know anyone who's ever had an affair. I know I haven't. Is New England really such a hotbed? Or am I just naive?
On a completely different note, a song Sinatra recorded late in his career brought me to tears again."Sunday" is the only song Sinatra ever recorded with just a solo guitar behind him. He lazily sings about what he and his wife do on Sunday mornings. He makes breakfast for her, with a rose on the tray. They read the papers. "Misbehave." "Enjoying one another." It sounds so nice. If MA and I read the papers in bed, we'd have a good argument going before we got off the front page.
On the other hand, we've already been married six years longer than the Maples were.
It looked as if it were going to rain, but it never did. The clouds would break and the sun would come out. Mary Ann said that it was too nice a day to go anywhere to eat unless it had tables outside. Like The Chimes, she said.
The Chimes was so busy that for the first time we had to wait for a table. But only about a minute. Strangely, the tables on the deck were less in demand than the indoor tables. Few restaurants in New Orleans have a more appealing view. The restaurant sort of hangs out into the bed of the Bogue Falaya River, with its tall cypresses and cypress knees shading the area halfway. Ducks play on the little bayou that runs into the river. And now four goats can be seen scampering around down there.
Two salads to begin. The Chimes's Caesar is good, although they have a heavy hand with the dressing. (At least they toss it with the greens.) Then red beans and ribs for Mary Ann, who loves them Chimes's that way. I wouldn't call them barbecued; they're steamed or boiled or baked until the meat falls off the bone (yuck), and then slathered with a lot of sauce.
For me, a pair of poached eggs on a fried soft shell crab. Atop that was what was billed as a hollandaise. It was the first one I ever had with flecks of ham in it. The crab was the best part. At $24, this was by far the most expensive dish I've had at Chimes.
The rest of my day was spent working, but not intensively. Mary Ann, on the other hand, continues to be berserk about getting the press release for her book finished. Jude is helping her post it on a web site where you pay $200 and they send your promotional material around. Late in the evening, after all that had been done, she found two typos, and had to do it all over again. The haste to get everything out in time for Mother's Day is creating much like waste.
The Chimes. Covington: 19130 W Front St. 985-892-5396.
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.
