Sunday, March 31, 2012.
The Longest Easter. Felice Pasqua At Andrea's.
This Easter was not the fun celebration it once was. How could it be, with Jude and Mary Leigh all grown up and out of town, and with Mary Ann and me treating candy like poison. There was an Easter basket of chocolate eggs under construction by MA for our daughter, out in the open where I could swipe four or five Krackel eggs a day. But where was my little box of marshmallow Peeps? Just the four cheery yellow blobs that really do look like cute little baby chicks. But also like baby snails. Mary Ann said that I told her last year not to buy these for me anymore. I must have meant the big box.
Mass at St. Jane's in Abita Springs. Mary Ann's modus operandi is to arrive at the perfect moment at which we get the last two seats in the church, so as not to waste an extra second in the church before the celebration begins. What actually happens is that we wind up standing in the back, which I refuse to do for a variety of reasons that should all seem obvious. The rancor this creates is paralleled by no other difference in our marriage.
She told me to go ahead to church at the time I needed, and she'd show up on her schedule. I was there twenty minutes early; five minutes later, the church was full and standees were lining up the sides. Mary Ann showed up a few minutes before Mass began, and slipped into the space I made by spreading out a little. This does not work when the kids are with us.
Ah, for the days when I was in the choir, and the rest of my family could just join me in the loft, and this battle was avoidable!
The engaging priest had a lot of fun with the younger members of the parish, and although he was entertaining, it resulted in a two-hour Mass. I see this as God getting even with MA for her lukewarm ways. Of course, God may well be punishing me for having that thought.
Dinner was going to be a problem. MA didn't want to stay home, and all our friends and relatives were busy with other things. Can you believe that? And after MA called them a full forty-five minutes before our plans began!
I had a good idea: let's have a late Easter lunch at Andrea's. Mary Ann loved the idea, because she thinks I'm cruel to Andrea. We would not go there between noon and four--the chef's frequent overbooking on holidays would make for chaos then. Indeed, when we arrived at four, the entire restaurant and all its many large private rooms were full. We had to wait a couple of minutes for what looked to be the first open table in hours.
It was a pleasant dinner of the Creole dishes that are taking over more and more of the menu. We started with Italian-style baked oysters, whose bread-crumb-and-herb topping reminded us of stuffed artichokes. So MA loved it, and I didn't. Then a decent turtle soup for me and spinach-stuffed ravioli with a red sauce for MA (we both liked that, and there was easily enough for two).
Entrees: pan-seared salmon with the chef's salsetta alla minuta--a deliberately undercooked sauce of olive oil, wine, lemon juice, herbs, and onions, and one of Chef Andrea's best ideas. For me a double-cut pork chop, cooked in a way that would have fit right in at any New Orleans style café, with a wet sauce with a lot of garlic. Pretty good, actually, if very homely.
For Easter, Andrea always makes what he says is a very traditional pie in Italy. It resembles a custard pie somewhat, but the filling is riddled with cracked wheat grains. I've never run into this anywhere else, and even Andrea only does it once a year. So why not?
It's Andrea made a big display of Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies for his entrance. The kids must have loved that. But not our kids, and us either. I think I'll make a mousse out of the chocolate bunny he sent us home with.
On the way home, Mary Ann said once again how glad she was that we hadn't made the trip to Florida we had planned for this weekend. The depression she expected from this empty-nest weekend didn't materialize, after all. I'm so happy for her, and me.
Andrea's. Metairie: 3100 19th Street. 504-834-8583.
