Sunday, June 2, 2012.
The Rusty Pelican.
My tolerance for alcohol is not what it used to be. Last night at the Lakehouse, I had one cocktail--a Manhattan, one of my standard tipples. It was on the large side, but not outrageously so--no bigger than the martinis they serve you at Galatoire's, for example, if that big. But this morning I woke up groggy, something that only rarely has been my experience in all my life.
Mary Ann asked me to write a press release for her Suzie Homemaker book. She says she can't seem to do it herself. This is why one had agents and editors. It's hard to talk about oneself. You're too close to the subject, and too many things you want to say about yourself have meaning only to you. (For examples, read this diary.)
After we spent the morning on that (she liked what I wrote!), we took a lunch break and drove to the Rusty Pelican in Mandeville. This place doesn't look as if it will serve food nearly as good as it does. It's an order-at-the-counter, server-delivers-to-table kind of place. Rolls of paper towels take the place of napkins. Most dishes are served not on plates, but in waxed paper-lined plastic baskets. Utensils are now stainless steel (they had been plastic), but since there are no napkins to wrap them in, they come in glassine bags. The premises are a bit unkempt. All of these qualities add less than nothing to the dining experience.
But the food is good. They are exceptionally adept at frying: artichoke hearts, onion rings, catfish, shrimp, oysters, chicken. Best of all are the crab cakes (below), which despite being deep-fried are excellent, even passing Mary Ann's stringent standards. She looks for ninety percent crabmeat inside, and Rusty Pelican delivers. It's a better crab cake than those served by quite a few much more expensive restaurants.
Mary Ann said that they've changed the menu, but I didn't see any evidence of that. So I got something I've never had here: a hamburger. I was in the mood for that anyway, and I haven't used up my monthly 1.125 hamburger quota. It was well-made and juicy, but both the bun and the burger were too big around and not thick enough. Hamburgers are one of many things that are better when they stand up high. Filets mignon, poached eggs, buttermilk biscuits, and seared rare tuna are others.
Took a break from my writing chores in the beautiful late afternoon to whack some weeds along the gravel road leading through the Cool Water Ranch. I do this as long as the string-mower battery holds out. It will wind up taking about twenty or thirty passed before I get this job done.
If I finish it. I now know that the chiggers that attacked my legs a couple of weeks ago are coming from those weeds, because I got another batch of bites today. Haven't encountered these nearly-microscopic mites since Jude and I hosted quite a few at Boy Scout summer camps. The myth about chiggers is that they dig under your skin and die. In fact, they poke a mouthpart into your skin, inject enzymes, and feed on the dead tissue thus created. They're harmless but itchy. And they must be assiduous, because I always wear long pants, shoes and socks. How do they get in?
Lately, my musical hunger has been for pop tunes of the early 1970s. I hated that stuff when I first heard it in my twenties. I wonder where the present taste for it came from.
Rusty Pelican. Mandeville: 500 Girod St. 985-778-0364.
