Thursday, August 11, 2011.
Gallagher's.
The mechanics have not been able to locate a constant-velocity joint for my car, so had to put the old one back on until they can. The problems I brought it in for have been resolved, however. Or I thought they were, until I tried to back out of my driveway. A new, grinding sound. Took it back. They couldn't make it happen there. Brought it home: it resounded. Turned out that a shield under the engine had come loose, and was dragging on the ground--but only in places with a gravel surface, like my driveway. They fixed it in two minutes.
All of this delayed me long enough to keep me from going into town. Oh, well. I guess I'll have to record all the commercials I must have done before I leave town tomorrow.
The Marys wanted dinner. Funny how the initial desire for something light ratcheted up to Gallagher's, which is everything but light. Not even the restaurant's popularity stood in the way of our occupying a table.
From an editorial point of view, our timing was perfect. Pat Gallagher just added a few new items to his already alluring menu. The most impressive of these is oysters Pablo, described as being a Southwestern twist on oysters Rockefeller. That is misleading--only a dab of spinach established that relationship. But that is forgotten after the first taste--assuming you didn't open up for that too soon after the platter of six arrived. A layer of cheese aioli (this is just my guess) keeps all the searing temperatures beneath it from moderating. The Southwestern flavors came from a ruddy bottom layer, which was peppery and smoky. The total dish is a real original, one I hope becomes a standard here.
After Pat worked for a few years as executive chef at Ruth's Chris in Metairie, his repertoire gained a heavier emphasis on big slabs of red meat and pools of sizzling butter. Two of the dishes at the table tonight were steaks. The new items was a bone-in filet mignon--something fascinating but rarely seen on menus. It's essentially a porterhouse with the sirloin strip cut off, leaving the bone to wrap around half of the filet's exterior. Mary Leigh--of all people--expressed an interest in this, and so there it was, sizzling in the butter. She did more damage to it than I expected. Unfortunately, I kept right up with her in devouring the sixteen-ounce sirloin strip. Between this place and Keith Young's, the North Shore can claim steak house parity with the South Shore, at least when adjusted for population density.
Mary Ann was the only one at the table to keep control of her appetite. She remained true to her favorite white-tablecloth dish: grilled fish with crabmeat and a butter sauce. Nice and fresh, and generously loaded with the blue crab.
Two desserts. I ordered the key lime pie, the lightest I think I've ever had. Mary Ann--not a dessert eater--thought this was marvelous, and so did I. An unordered chocolate torte came out, but this didn't impress my chocolate-concupiscent girls, and they left most of it.
I've had a lot of great food from Pat Gallagher's hand over the years, in many different restaurants. I think he is at the peak of his career right now. It's hard to imagine leaving this placed without raving over it. At least if you're okay with eating food within the traditional Creole palette once in awhile. I know I am.
Gallagher's Grill. Covington: 509 S Tyler. 985-892-9992.
