Tuesday, November 16. Oysters Bienville, Spaghetti And Filet, Veal Puccini. Mary Leigh said she was in the mood for Italian food when I picked her up at Tulane for our weekly dinner date. I suggested Pascal's Manale. She'd never been there before. I went over the menu mentally and found two fallback favorites of hers: spaghetti with red sauce and filet mignon.
For the first time in many months, Manale's oyster bar was active, with several guys standing there waiting to fork up a dozen or two. Too crowded for me to take my own position without neglecting my daughter, but I did look over the bivalves on sale. Nothing deficient that I could see. Tomorrow I would hear from Mark DeFelice--the family member whose main lookout is the kitchen. He said that these were all Louisiana oysters. He's not getting oysters all the time, but more and more often.
We did have to wait a few minutes for a table. Ahh--the good old days. I remember when going to Pascal's Manale meant making a reservation for six-thirty (and arriving then) if you wanted to eat at eight. The intervening hour and a half would be spent with all the other Uptowners, many of whom one knew, and having a few drinks. That culture went into decline when the Baby Boom-fired gourmet bistros began opening all over the Uptown area, giving other dinner options that didn't require waiting.
In honor of the memory of all that, I had a Manhattan at the bar. "Is that just like. . . pure alcohol?" Mary Leigh asked, with unambiguous disdain. Not exactly, but almost, I told her. Not as heavy a hit as a martini. I let her rebuke admonish me and felt a small guilt. My cocktail drinking is way down lately, and I want that trend to continue.
I finished the drink at the table. Not much of a wait. I didn't recognize anyone in the dining room, but quite a few of them recognized me. So the locals are still coming. That's good. I think Manale's has been neglected of late. Part of the reason is that they haven't quite got over their attachment to having people feel sorry for them after the Katrina flooding damage they had to overcome. People can feel that in the service and even in the food, which is in need of some jazzing up.
Began the meal with oysters, of course. Pascal's Manale has the best recipe in town for oysters Bienville, and one of the best for oysters Rockefeller. I had three of each. The sauces were a little on the dry side (that is enough to make some people I send here for these dishes think I'm crazy), but the flavor was good.
I was relieved when Mary Leigh said that the blue cheese dressing on her salad was the best she ever tasted. She doesn't say such things lightly, especially not about one of her favorite dishes. Score one for the old restaurant.
The waitress announced that one of the specials was veal Puccini. Veal Puccini! It's at least ten years since the last time I had it. Veal medallions, cream sauce, mushrooms, and pasta. The old version had more of the essence of mushrooms in the sauce, but this fulfilled the expectations.
The filet mignon came out with problems. It was charred to the limit on the top and bottom, but very rare in the center. We had to send it back. In the meantime, she ate all of the spaghettini (when's the last time you heard that word?) with red sauce. She must have liked that, too. When the filet reappeared, it still wasn't quite right, but she was about full. So it worked out.
Bread pudding--light and good as always, perennially one of the better ones around town, especially if you like raisins, which are added in profusion.
Our conversation was about frivolous matters. She's having a hard time scheduling her classes for the spring semester, and is looking at a semester of math and science instead of English and other liberal arts. It doesn't sound horrible to me, but I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I broached MA's idea that we should go on vacation at Thanksgiving next year. ML was aghast at that, as I knew she would be. She's said that Thanksgiving is her favorite holiday since she was a little girl. It's mine, too.
Pascal's Manale. Uptown: 1838 Napoleon Ave. 504-895-4877.
