A deluge fell overnight and into the morning. By the time I needed to head across the lake, a river was flowing over my little dead-end country lane, making it dangerous to attempt to leave. I was supposed to meet a couple of guys who host a show called "Chef And The Fat Man" on Atlanta radio. They're in town to cover the Saints game reaction here, as well as a bit of Mardi Gras. Fortunately, they were amenable to my doing the show with them tomorrow. It's recorded anyway, so no blood was shed.
With the free time that made available--and with the water going down--Mary Ann and I went to Gallagher's Grill for lunch. The weather dampened their business, too. I can no longer rope MA in with my dumb act about the Saints. I wondered aloud why Gallagher had both black and gold napkins on his tables. "Just ignore him," MA told the waitress, who was about to explain the team colors to me. "That's what I do, and that's all he deserves." Shucks. I would I would have followed with, "But the Saints have been around a long time! Why now?"
We started with chicken andouille gumbo. The roux and the andouille had completely taken control, to the detriment of everything else. This trend towards making gumbo thicker and thicker has got to stop. It was better when it was brothy. Next course: fresh spinach made into a salad with bacon, onions, and blue cheese. But we agreed that the sweetness of the dressing--very common in spinach salads--is not a plus.
The remainder of the meal was flawless. The spoilsport's appetite was being swept over by a desire for a steak. A small filet did the job, sizzling in butter. But when she saw what I ordered, she wished she'd gone that way instead. Trout amandine in the old style, with the lemony brown sauce. Nice big fried fillet there. And it was really speckled trout. This is the too-brief time of year when the ridiculous law about commercial trout fishing allows a tenth of a percent of the total catch to make it to restaurants.
The rain kept coming down. I wondered whether we'd be able to get back home. I dismissed that concern in favor of white chocolate bread pudding. Very rich, served in a portion big enough for at least two. I couldn't come close to finishing it, good as it was.
The radio show came from home, of course. After it, Mary Leigh expressed a desire for a wedge salad and oyster butter at the Acme. Neither adult needed or wanted anything else to eat after Gallagher's overload. But we went anyway, of course. A dozen grilled oysters, a cup of stuffed artichoke soup, a cup of red beans, and that was about it.
Gallagher's Grill. Covington: 509 S Tyler. 985-892-9992. Seafood.
Acme Oyster House. Covington: 1202 US 190 (Causeway Blvd.). 985-246-6155. Seafood.
