Thursday, January 6, 2011. Banging Out A Menu At Andrea's. I thought there might be a chance I'd get a haircut today, but no dice. Mary Ann is telling me I am starting to get the look Kelsey Grammar has in the first seasons of Frasier. That might be enough to get me over to the barbershop right there. She also disdains my unintentional habit, when my hair gets long, of combing it over the growing sparse area on top. I agree with her that it looks pathetic.
I just finished Philip Roth's recent novel The Humbling. It's about an actor in his late seventies who suddenly is beset by a loss of all his powers. As usually happens in Roth's books, the character's remedy is adventuresome sex with a much younger woman. After a year with her--just as he's thinking that he's found his way back to wholeness, ready to return to the stage and his former hearty life--she abruptly leaves him. I saw that coming. The ending is right out of a Greek tragedy.
Why do I read books like this? Stories that illustrate the ease with which women can bring down even the strongest men disturb me greatly. But I have never been a paragon of self-confidence. Certainly not around women. I comfort myself with the knowledge that I'm not especially powerful, and have little to lose if Mary Ann ever spins me off.
Chef Andrea has been trying to get me to do another Eat Club dinner again at his place for months. I relented when he said the anniversary of the restaurant is in two weeks. He asked me to compose the menu for the dinner. I have proven as laggard as chefs are. (Getting a menu for a special dinner from a chef is as difficult as getting an employer to give you a raise.) He called me about it this morning, and I promised to stop by tonight and bang it out.
But Mary Ann called and offered herself as a dinner date. This set us all up for a long evening. I was hoping to have a glass of wine and an appetizer, but the chef would hear none of that. He sent out a huge platter of tomato-topped bruschetti. This is something that truly cannot be allowed to just sit there; one must eat it. Especially when there's a glass of good Friuli Pinot Grigio next to it.
I was hoping to have just a pasta dish after that. One of the options for the past course for the Eat Club was pasta Amalfi--made with a brothy sauce, anchovies, and sun-dried tomatoes. I didn't remember having that before, so I tried it. Good, but not for everybody. Better not serve a pasta dish with a strong anchovy taste to the mainstream.
The pasta was enough to make a meal, but it had to be followed by roast pheasant, which Andrea puts on his holiday menu every year. I love pheasant, but his recipe doesn't move me. An entree was also pressed upon Mary Ann, who had grilled salmon on top of spinach. The sauce of this is one of Andrea's better ideas: an intentionally undercooked concoction of white wine, olive oil, basil, oregano, parsley, lemon juice, garlic, and crushed red pepper. That shouldn't have harmed her diet too much.
The Eat Club menu starts with three passed appetizers, then shrimp fra diavoli, pasta carbonara, fish with pesto, and a choice of sirloin strip steak with peppercorns or veal Tanet. The latter is an oversized slice of panneed veal, set atop fresh romaine with tomatoes and an Italian dressing. Andrea invented this when he was the chef at the Royal Orleans in the 1980s. It's named for the guy we call "Ronald, The Gourmet Attorney" when he calls into my radio show. Indeed, he called in today.
Andrea thought the best dessert would be chocolate creme brulee. He insisted we try it. I hope it's better at the dinner than it was tonight. He had to admit that he baked it at too high a temperature, and was almost sloshy. Mary Ann--a chocolate lover--said it was delicious. I'm not big on chocolate when it's this intense, so I must suspend judgment.
Andrea's. Metairie: 3100 19th St. 504-834-8583.
