Wednesday, November 10. Eat Club At The Sazerac. Mary Ann says there is nothing so personal that I wouldn't write about it in this space and throw it out on the web. She is wrong about that. I am not going to tell what ruined my morning and early afternoon, occupied over an hour and a half of my time, and made me think I might not be able to go into town for the remote broadcast and Eat Club dinner at the Sazerac. I know I will have no trouble remembering the problem. If I told anyone else about it, he'd be sorry I did. Anyway, I was very relieved that things worked themselves out.
I was already in a bad mood after wasted about ten minutes corresponding with a crank. She took issue with my mention, a few days ago, of Mary Leigh's voting for the first time. I said I was proud that ML took that duty seriously, but disappointed that she is following Mary Ann's political leanings instead of mine. The writer is a woman who carried on another such argument with me a few years ago, and said she'd never read or listen to me again. (People who say that actually read every word I write. How else would they find material to complain about? Hi, y'all! Thanks for all your attention!)
This time her letters quickly descended into insults, all of which I answered calmly with the kind of incontrovertible facts that make cranks start sputtering. This was especially fun because the woman is an attorney. I wouldn't want her representing my worst enemy.
In contrast, the broadcast and the dinner in the Sazerac was a tour de force. We had a lot of callers reminiscing about the old Sazerac. In its heyday, it was indeed unforgettable. The chef came by to tell what's coming up at the Roosevelt Hotel for the holidays--an important matter, since the lobby in the grand old hotel is a must-visit every Christmas season for a lot of Orleanians.
One of the bartenders stopped for awhile at my table, and we talked about the hotel's two signature cocktails. Everybody knows about the Sazerac cocktail, but I suspect that only a small percentage of local drinkers have ever had a Ramos gin fizz. No other cocktail looks or tastes even remotely like it. It's made with a slightly sweet gin, lime and lemon juice, cream, egg whites, and orange flower water.
They brought me one, of course. It was a little too early in the show for me to begin imbibing. And they made the drink a little stiffer than the two I've had on recent visits for dinner. But it was good enough that Dominic Mitchum--our broadcast engineer, who's become a sidekick on our remotes--needed to sample a Ramos for himself.
Alon Shaya, the chef of Domenica, passed by and said a few words--although not on the air. Domenica is immediately adjacent to the Sazerac, in the hotel but not part of it. I guess he didn't want to muscle in on the Sazerac's time. I asked him for a pizza anyway. He brought two: a basic cheese job, and one with Italian sausage, mushrooms, and apples. Good think I can't eat much while I'm on the air, or I would have been less than hungry for dinner. I continue to believe that Domenica's are the best pizzas in town.
More people showed up for our dinner than I expected. That was lucky, because in the previous two days, twelve people had canceled for a variety of reasons. Just enough seats were set for the four dozen attendees.
We began with some Domaine Chandon Brut and a nice little amuse-bouche of corn maquechoux with a fried oyster on top. We all discovered that it's hard to eat anything granular (like corn) from a triangular plate, because the fork won't fit into the corners. The things a chef must consider!
Next was a small version of the crabmeat and asparagus dish I had here a couple of weeks ago. The crab lumps were Brobdingnagian, the asparagus hard to find underneath them. But there they were, and the truffled creme fraiche held it together richly.
Now we had a course designed almost entirely for visual effect--not for the last time tonight. It was billed as a salad with pears (a translucent slice atop all else), a stack of baby greens, and a lemon-shaped mousse of blue cheese. An intense balsamic vinaigrette was drawn on the plate as sort of a dip.
Back to serious eating. We each were given an enormous shrimp, head and all, roasted with garlic, napped with a sauce of brandy and shrimp, with a dab of risotto-style rice with a paella flavor. All the tastes were big enough to make this satisfying, without the need for more of it.
A sorbet came out to refresh the palates. But it wasn't held by an ice swan on a velvet pillow with a light shining up, like in the old days. I didn't expect that. I wonder what most diners would make of an over-the-top service fillip like that now.
The final savory course was duck in the two familiar ways: grilled breast, confit leg. It was ducky, and I mean that as a big compliment. I will continue my crusade against rare duck breast, which is clearly not as good as the same meat seared a little hotter and done a bit more. A tasting would make that point forcefully, but not even truth can fight an entrenched vogue.
The wine with the duck was excellent. Gary Farrell Pinot Noir, Russian River Valley, 2007. Nice matchup.
Dessert was an abstract sculpture. I can safely say I've never been served anything in the shape of this cheesecake of pumpkin and gianduia. The latter is a word you will hear more often, another in a long line that chefs love to use because it keeps diners off balance. Gianduia (and I had to look it up myself) is a mixture of chocolate (about two-thirds) and ground hazelnuts (the rest). It's a good idea, and so was this cheesecake.
The Eat Clubbers were even more convivial than usual, and slow to leave. You know you're having a ball when you regret the end of the evening. One table had six people who were on our gourmet train trip to Chicago last month. They want me to have a reunion dinner for all the people who went on that. We must have bonded.
Sazerac. CBD: 123 Baronne, Roosevelt Hotel. 504-648-1200.
