Thursday, August 16, 2012.
Fly In, Fly Out. A New Salad--And How About Salads?
I was in bed asleep when Mary Ann and the next generation came home at nearly midnight, and they left me alone, because a different duty was asked of me. Would I get up at four-thirty to drive Jude to the airport? So the Marys--who are shagged out after a very stressful return home from London via Paris last night--could remain in recharge mode.
The Jude version of everything would be fun to hear anyway. He had some good ones concerning the acquisition of tickets to the Olympic event. One's choices were a) to buy from a scalper, who because of the astronomical fine if he were caught (£20,000, Jude heard) was charging more than a grand apiece for his ducats; 2) to hope for a miracle. The latter did occur putting two tickets for the women's wrestling event.
"Women's wrestling?" I said, the first image in my mind about beautiful young models grappling one another beating the more rational one to my consciousness.
"Don't get excited," Jude said. "You know those drug tests they give the athletes? I think that for this event they needed a gender test. Scary. But it was pretty good anyway. We had great seats!"
The Marys had jet advance, and arose much earlier than they wanted. That moved lunch up. As soon as La Carreta was open, Mary Leigh beat a hasty track there. For some reason, that Mexican restaurant has become her top priority every time she returns to the North Shore. The funny thing is that all she eats is choriqueso--the queso cheese dip with Mexican hot sausage mixed in. This is unquestionably a good dish, but it's on my "eat sparingly" list--less because it's full of fat (which it is), more
because the Marys recognize no limit on the stuff. We have been known to go through three large orders.
They were on the second boat of choriqueso when I arrived. I ate my share of it--too much. I followed it with a new item on the menu, an avocado salad. It was basically a Caesar with slices fajitas-style chicken I didn't ask for (I think I misread the menu), and avocado slices. I don't know what it is about the avocados here, but they never have any taste. The guacamole is sub-par too. These are the only consistent complaints I have about La Carreta.
The dressing on this salad deserves a paragraph of its own. It was described as a cilantro vinaigrette, but there was more to it than that. Lime juice, for one thing, and enough pepper to jazz it up. The cilantro aspect was restrained, making me think they used cilantro seeds--a.k.a. coriander.
I was turned on enough by this to posit large salads as a subject for the radio show. The first caller favored me with a few thoughts about that, but then he went to what was on his mind. Salads were never again mentioned the rest of what was a busy program.
I began searching for a restaurant we can go to for dinner when our cruise next month arrives in Quebec City. The most interesting place I unearthed from my guidebooks was one with an advanced French bistro menu, and a location near the cruise dock. (Unlike most cities, Quebec parks its visiting ships in the most interesting part of the old city, right next to Chateau de Frontenac.)
But here's what may sell this restaurant to me: its name is Café du Monde.
La Carreta. Mandeville: 1200 W Causeway Approach. 985-624-2990.
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.
