Thursday, January 29, 2009.
Back To Mike's.
I received the marked-up copy of the manuscript for my book today from Amy Wilensky, who is editing it. As she told me, she exxed out two big sections and a few little sections, and sent along a short list of things she wants me to develop a bit more. It looks to me as if I have another chapter to write. I think it will be a collection of case studies of restaurants of varying styles in different neighborhoods, illustrating what they had to do to come back, and what happened when they did. It looks like a weekend's worth of work, but it won't be this weekend.
I went to Mike's American Grill again. I am hearing complaints of the kind I'd expect in the first weeks a restaurant is open. This one has been around all of three weeks. If Mary Ann hadn't sold them a package of commercials on my show, it would be months before I went. But I can't tell her what I can tell the standard ad sales guy.
I was happy that this was a good dinner. It began with their version of grilled oysters, which for once were not much like Drago's. These had smoked cherry tomatoes on the shells, along with the Parmesan cheese and butter and garlic. Enormous bivalves, with a lovely fresh taste from the tomatoes.
I followed that with a wedge salad (this is an addiction now, and Mary Leigh is to blame). And then the special of the evening, a thick (I would stop short of calling it 
a double-cut) pork chop, right off the grill, cooked only to the point that a blush of pink and a distinctive juiciness remained. Delicious. It came on a crowded plate of sides, all of which I could have done without. Mashed potatoes: I can't believe that I am tired of them, even good ones like these and the excellent ones I make at home. Must be my body telling me something. Fried green beans: more interesting than good.
Mike Uddo was in the kitchen tonight. He looks the same as when I last saw him, a few years ago, although I know he's been through a personal wringer in the past couple of years. It could be that having your attention riveted by problems keeps a sparkle in one's eye. He told me that lunch at Mike's (it's in the old Sal and Sam's) is very prosperous already but that dinner needs to grow (I could see that), and the word hasn't spread on weekend brunch yet. But for goodness sake--three weeks!
I didn't want dessert, but they made me try the white chocolate strawberry shortcake. All the pieces of this were beyond reproach, but it was too rich for me to eat more than a pair of bites. White chocolate does that to me. The white chocolate bread pudding at the Palace Café (it's everywhere now, but they invented it and still do it best) has always been a bit much for my palate. But I can understand why someone else would like it.
This reminds me of something my mother told me after reading movie and theater reviews I wrote for Figaro and the Courier in my early twenties. "Why don't you find out what other people think, and write about that?" The point--aside from the clear implication that she could not imagine my writing arts reviews--was that no reader would be interested in the tastes of just one other person. Lots of other people think this, too. Obviously, I don't go along with that. I can't. How can I honestly write about anyone's preferences other than my own?
Mike's American Grill. Metairie: 4300 Veterans Blvd.. 504-885-5566. American.
