Wednesday, May 30, 2012.
Tujague's And Muriel's.
They say that in nature the defense is always one evolutionary step ahead of the offense. Insects evolve faster than the birds trying to eat. Bacteria develop new forms every time we make drugs to fight them.
And by the time a radio host or writer or any other voice in any other medium thinks he has a reliable routine for rounding up audiences and keeping them inside the fence, they find not only a more attractive place to be but a way to escape.
After all the years I've been doing it, the only thing I know for sure about my radio audience--in particular the members of it who call on the air, and thereby supply the other end of the conversation I'd like to be engaged in--is that what motivated them to be there yesterday won't work today.
It's not the what of it, mind you. I find myself asked and answering the same questions over and over, for years on end. It's the how. What fascinates or amuses people is always in flux, ever evolving.
There are cheap ways to get around this. Most people have an endless need to get angry that things aren't exactly as they want them. It's easy to pander to this anger. All you have to do is choose a position that outrages. On evolution, for example. The lines light up. I used to do that early in my career, in the late 1970s. But the fraudulence of it made me quit after a few years. That's when I became a specialist on culinary matters, which I was already covering, anyway.
I bring all this up because we had a terribly slow day today on the radio show. And even though I know that tomorrow will be better (just as yesterday was), it sometimes deranges my mind.
After the ordeal, it was off to dinner at Muriel's at Jackson Square with Steven Latter, the owner of Tujague's for the past thirty years. Tujague's is 156 years old, and therefore loaded with traditions. Restaurants carrying that load find themselves alternately benefiting and suffering from it.
Some people (me, for example) love old restaurants and their history. Others couldn't care less, or even disdain longevity. Example: When Anthony Bourdain had me on his show a few years ago, his producers allowed me to pick a restaurant to feature: Antoine's. "Tell me about this place," Tony said. It's the oldest restaurant in America, I said. "I hate it already!" Tony said.
Like me and my radio show, Steve feels a recurring need to adjust his restaurant to continue its appeal to diners. But changing an institution like Tujague's is ticklish. Remember the uproar when Galatoire's shifted from block ice to machine-made ice?
Steve wanted to run a few ideas past me. Nothing major--Tujague's will continue more or less as it is. (I was happy to learn that Steven's son has entered the business.) So we had dinner at Muriel's. (Restaurateurs never have meetings in their own places. Too many distractions.)
Muriel's is so good that I kick myself for not eating there more often. The location--right on the eastward-pointing corner of Jackson Square--could not be better positioned for tourist business. But managing partner Rick Gratia runs it as if all the customers were local, from the menu selection through the prices.
The three of us began with salads and soups--a shrimp bisque over there, turtle soup before me. The latter (this is not a reference to Steven) was in the style of Commander's Palace, which is logical enough. Rick Gratia and his chef Gus Martin both spent many years in the Brennan family's restaurants.
The double-cut pork chop was one of those that always inspires the thought that a well-prepared pork chop of good pedigree is at least as good as even the best beefsteak. This one surely was, with a crusty sear on the top and the bottom and a blush of pink in the center. Delicious and juicy.
Steven's son did the soft-shell crab special. Enormous, my first guess was that there were two crabs on that plate. Crab stuffing underneath. He said it was terrific.
Steven is funny, but in such a dry way that a lot of his humor goes over people's heads. Now and then he pulls a fast one. Through Muriel's Chartres Street window, he saw one of his regular customers at Tujague's walk by. "I wonder if they're coming in here," he said. They were.
Steven told the waiter to ask the host of the group, "What's the matter? Is Tujague's closed tonight?"
Steven knew that when the host saw him, a mild embarrassment would well up, as if any restaurateur believes that their customers should only dine with him. And then everyone at that table would all have a chuckle about it. Which is exactly what happened. I guess you get a feel for these things after so many years.
Muriel's. French Quarter: 801 Chartres. 504-568-1885.
