Thursday, November 17, 2011.
Galatoire's With The Jays.
I have no radio show today, thanks to LSU basketball. The team is in some kind of tournament. I wonder how many people show up in mid-afternoon on a Thursday to watch such a game.
God bless the Tigers, though, because their game gives me the opportunity to partake in a lunch I would not consider attending if I had to go on the air at three. My would-be class at Jesuit has a monthly lunch convocation at Galatoire's, and today is the day. Several of the key members of this gang are out of town this week, though, so instead of the twenty or so guys we wound up with only ten. I thought I was late, showing up at a quarter to one. In fact, only one other guy was there--real-estate developer and singer Frank Maselli.
Not that it mattered. The restaurant had a few open tables when I arrived. This was pleasant, because when every chair at Galatoire's is full, it's hard to move around, and the noise level makes conversation impossible.
As time went on we were joined by sno-ball magnate Jack Casey, Dr. Tom Ryan, attorney Harry Forst, the never-changing Nick Matulich, contractor Francisco Xavier Solorzano (who had a cup of coffee, told two very funny jokes, then left), and a guy from Ohio who was not in our class and who didn't go to Jesuit until after I left, so I can't remember his name. I should remember him, though. For the second time, he told me that being a widower has a bright side: he is never at a loss for dates.
The eating was light. We were persuaded that the duck gumbo was good, but I can't say I agree. My entree was trout meuniere with creamed spinach, although when I walked in I had chicken Clemenceau on my mind. Imre Szalai, my waiter, was touting the trout highly. A half-dozen oysters Rockefeller circulated around the table and I had one. Everything was good as ever, and better than usual with this group.
Before the food started coming, Chef Michael Sichel burst forth from the kitchen. Michael is hard to miss. Tall, slender, and with a large mop of tightly curled black hair, he looks like someone you need to talk to. I have been talking with him for year, beginning with a dinner Mary Ann and I had in 2004 at the Napa Wine Auction. Michael was cooking at the time at Auberge de Soleil, a high-end resort. It boasts one of the world's handsomest restaurants, with a mountainside view of a large chunk of wine country.
On the night we were at Auberge, Michael told me he and his wife were thinking of moving to New Orleans. Mary Ann thought this insane, and I can't say I disagree. But I told him that if he wanted to cook, New Orleans was a good place to be. So they moved here. Michael stayed after they broke up. (So did she; she is a manager in the John Besh organization.) He fetched up in quite a few local restaurants over the years.
Galatoire's is about the last place I expected to see Michael, because his style leans distinctly to the avant-garde. The first report about him on the radio show was disturbing: he dared to change the bacon on the oysters en brochette to a maple-sugar-edged, thick, smoky bacon of much higher quality than Galatoire's had ever used. But oysters en brochette at Galatoire's does not admit of radical change, and this upset a few people.
Michael took me into the kitchen and his walk-in cooler, where he showed me some of the other new foodstuffs he's bringing in. He seems to have merged a bit with the Galatoire's traditions. I suspect the reason he and his last few predecessors were hired was to streamline the operation, the better to serve bigger crowds and private parties, while leaning the basics alone. We'll see how that goes.
The Blue Jay party broke up around three, and not a moment too soon. Dr. Ryan and I engaged in a political discussion. I was warned too late was not a button I should have pushed. He and Mary Ann would get along famously on that subject.
Galatoire's. French Quarter: 209 Bourbon. 504-525-2021.
