Sunday, June 24, 2012.
A Good Mood. An Unnecessary Lunch.
Mary Ann has been very warm to me for the past couple of days. I don't know why. But then I don't know why she's mad at me when she is, either. Seems to me I'm always the same, but she says that about herself. I think it must be something like the occurrence of eclipses, except that you know when eclipses are coming.
Even though I've said no several times, she's still trying to get me to go along with her and ML (and maybe Jude) to London for the Olympics. I say we don't have the money, and if I go along we spend about forty percent more than if I don't. I don't like crowds, either. She just waves her hand at all that.
Besides, we have another vacation coming up: the one to New England and Canada in September. Tomorrow is the deadline for reserving places on that one. We have about three dozen people joining us--the perfect number.
Mary Leigh is across the lake at the home of her college roommate, who has a swimming pool. Our eating plans, then could be simple. I have eaten too many grand dinners in the past could of weeks, and need a simple day. We were going to grill chicken or something. But around one, MA said that she had a hankering for La Carreta. I didn't have the same hunger, but I went along with it, because my own urge was complementary.
I wanted to go out. Anywhere. Not because I was sick of being at home. Not because there was something in particular I was hungry for. But because I like restaurants.
Although my ratings are based about eighty percent on the excellence of the food, what keeps me interested in dining out all the time is that I like to be served. I am not alone. Studies by the restaurant industry and others (including one I kept for about ten years, based on what my radio callers and email correspondents told me) find that service is the big draw. Number One Issue: keeping the wine, water, iced tea, or coffee filled. Really! Food matters don't enter the list until Number Nine. Atmosphere only gets two places on the list. All the rest is service. Most of us go out to be served.
And we were. Too much chorizo in queso. Then chicken diabla, one off the best of La Carreta's dishes (and lightest, with grilled chicken, a reduced tomato-chipotle salsa, avocados, tomatoes, and rice).
Back home, we evaluated the lawn and decided that it could wait until next week. I had a lot of newsletter work anyway. The countdown:
1. Six more reviews until I reach 500 current online reviews, a number never before achieve in any New Orleans medium
2. Six more Edible Dictionary entries until 1000
3. Thirty-one more Chef d'Oeuvre entries until 500
My goal is to have all this done before summer is over. Then I will rev down a touch.
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.
