Wednesday, December 16, 2009. Cold And Dry. Bon Ton Café. We finally have a rain-free day. And it's cold. The perfect day to scratch the itch I get at this time every year: to have dinner at the Bon Ton Café. This year, it's a two-year itch, because I didn't scratch it last year.
And, unlike the dinner in 1974 that triggered this tradition, I would not take this one alone. Doug Swift called me a few days ago wanting to meet up so I could autograph some cookbooks for him. The perfect time and place would be over dinner. Doug and his wife Karen became good friends of ours during the years when we both had sons at Christian Brothers School and then at Jesuit. They made the mistake, the first time they came to dinner at our house, of bringing a bottle of Caymus Special Selection Cabernet Sauvignon--one of the best wines from California. I've invited the Swifts as often as possible ever since. Mary Ann says there's more to this than the wine. "You and Doug were twins separated at birth," she says. "You're the only ones who get each other's jokes."
I beat Doug to the Bon Ton (it's across the street from the radio station). I ordered a Rum Ramsey, the house cocktail. It predates the present restaurant. When Al and Alzina Pierce bought the 1925-vintage Bon Ton in 1953 and completely transformed its character, they kept Rum Ramsey. It's a good, generous, refreshing drink, probably better suited to summer than winter, with a sour secret-ingredient mix.
We started out with too-small, overfried crawfish tails and cubes of fried catfish with "Alzina sauce." It looks like mayonnaise, ketchup, and hot sauce mixed together, but tastes much better than that. The manager then sent us a few oysters Alvin--fried, plump, and moistened with a brown sauce with mushrooms.
I recommended the crabmeat au gratin, the best in town and probably the best dish in the restaurant. The waitress added, "You know what's good? A filet with the crabmeat au gratin on top!" I'd never heard of that, although crabmeat on top of steak has become a common local atrocity. (I think it adds nothing to the steak, and takes everything away from the crabmeat.) The idea intrigued Doug, who agreed to try it. That changed my order to the sirloin strip, so we could color-coordinate the wine. I noticed that the menu now claims USDA Prime grade for its beef, which I think is something new. The Bon Ton's steaks have always been reasonably good, but few locals think of that as a specialty here.
We ordered a bottle of Guenoc Petite Syrah, which I figured would be nice with all this beef. I'm glad we went down that road. The filet with the crabmeat looked terrific--the crabmeat in its only lightly-cheesy bechamel had been glazed under the broiler, giving it a very appealing look. Doug said it was delicious. The sirloin strip was first-class in every way except one, and that was my doing. I asked to have some butter sauce with the steak, and they don't make that here for this purpose. Nevertheless, this strip was first-class by any standard.
So was the company. I think Doug reads everything I write and listens to much of the radio show. Our conversation is like that between two people who speak every day. Doug is a medical doctor, so his life is interesting. I learned some new things about him. I knew he grew up in Mexico City (although you would never guess this to talk with him), but I didn't know that his mother was an emigre from France after World War II. I knew he was a UNO grad like me, but not that he met his wife there.
He had information about one of my radio sponsors. "That Volkswagen Toureg you're always touting originally had such a powerful V-10 engine that they had to retool the engine mounting," he said. How did he know that? Because he's a car nut, he said--something else new to me.
I signed the books, we split a bread pudding, and fought over the check. He won. Mary Ann will be happy to hear that, not because we feel Doug and Karen owe us anything, but because she says I pick up entirely too many checks when I dine out with others.
Bon Ton Cafe. CBD: 401 Magazine 504-524-3386. Cajun.
