The Journey...Final Course

NB: This will be the final entry in the journal of the epic journey, although the feeder reserves the right to dredge up some photos from time to time... this will probably get a bit long, so installment reading might be appropriate


Okay, let’s see, where were we.. oh yes…After our (previously documented) eating spree in the Crescent City we headed east again, constantly reminded of the results of a recent sporting event held there lately.



We decided to take a little detour to drive through Biloxi, and there were still reminders of Katrina





After crossing the boot heels of Mississippi and Alabama, we finally got to the sunshine state



by “P-Cola with some familiar images on overpasses



And, no matter where you are, there are local restaurants..



Finally, after nearly 2000 miles on I-10, we turned right at Lakeland, Florida headed south to visit some friends in the central part of the state. After dealing with restaurants for a while, it was nice to have two lovely home cooked meals there, and I even got in a little birding



What turned out to be our final “food experience” fittingly was dessert-like. Plant City is a little town that is sort of the hub of the produce belt, so there’s lots of stuff. A local (and not so local) legend there is a place called Parkesdale Farms and groves.





They’re famous for produce, but mostly for their (jumbo) strawberry shortcake. People come from miles around (that famous city) to stand in line



for various preparations of ripe strawberries, cake, and mounds of whipped cream. Mostly you go there for the experience.


We got ours,



and i ate most of it


After a restful couple of days with friends (there’s that word again) we headed north toward home. The original plan had us stopping in either Charleston or Savannah, but by this time days on the road, motels, roadfood meals, took its toll and we decided to just beat feet and come home to the digs.

So our last night on the road was spent in Florence, South Carolina, another one of those spots that seem to exist for letting you stay overnight as there is every motel chain and box restaurant you’ve ever heard of clustered by the well traveled I95. We stayed in our mainstay Fairfield Inn, and on the way to the place we noticed an Outback. Now, in all our travels I don’t think we had a steak once, and the thought of that seemed appetizing. So, after lugging the mounds of luggage (we travel heavy) to the room, we got mildly DFD’d and headed out. We got to the place only to find people standing around outside. Uh oh (it was Saturday night). Undaunted we go inside, and encountered the cheery young lady at the stand and said we wished to have dinner for two. “yes, sir, it will be only about 80 minutes, will that be all right?” Excuse me, 80 minutes means an hour and twenty minutes? “well, yes, we’ll let you know, is that okay?”. I don’t think so. What followed was a visit to several other similar places (even the dreaded OG) and were met with the same crowds and varying amounts of waiting time, all over 40 minutes. Crestfallen, we stopped at Burger King for a bag of reality and retired to the room to eat off yet another ottoman.

Next day we traversed the rest of I95, over the Nice Harry bridge, and found our way back home. So now remains notes, pictures, credit card bills, receipts from a myriad of restaurants, a few menus, but mostly the memories of meeting friends, sharing food, and most likely a once in a lifetime journey. By golly we did it! And through it all, I can honestly say we were always

DFD

Walking on the River....

Hello again, a long weekend of off site training halted our journey (and yes, it’s about to end) as we were leaving Arizona…

Leaving Eloy, we headed east again through miles and miles of “next facilities…” beautiful scenery,



some dust storms





and a unremarkable stay in a God forsaken hunk of Texas called VanHorn Texas (why exactly does that town exist?—sorry Mike) just sort of plunked in the middle of nowhere, and maybe “middle” is the key, as it provides a stopping point in a long journey…



We finally put the long stretch of desert behind us with a visit to



We’d never been there before but knew of the famous creation of those clever civil engineers



Known as “river walk” and in fact secured a night’s lodging in a Courtyard that backed onto the walk where in fact you can walk



Or ride



A relatively short travel day allowed time for our own stroll. It’s a pretty nice place. There are several little cafes and restaurants along the way where you can sit, sip, munch and stare at the never ending parade of tourists..






After doing a bit of “the walk” we retired to a balcony overlooking the water and enjoyed a glass of wine. It’s always hard to do a one time visit to a city you don’t know much about, and it seemed that this was the right place to sample some Mexican food. A little scouring of the internet led me to eschew some of the river walk places, and we selected a place called Rosario’s, which seemed to have pretty good reviews of appropriate food. It was just beyond walking distance so we opted for another cab ride.

A few short blocks got us to a corner restaurant that was almost storefront with lots of windows looking out on a non-descript street. It was obviously a popular spot as the large bar area was pretty much filled with the people you would pretty much expect to see, having a good time. We were shown to a table in the back room where most of the dining was done, and shortly moved to another table when it was discovered that the top of our first table appeared to be held on with only one fastener as it rocked precariously. Our server (name unknown) said they needed to fix that. The ceilings were very high, one of those where the support structure is exposed and painted black. But, along the ceiling there was a neon snake like light that continually changed hues. It wasn’t the only source of light however so reading the menu was easy. The standard bowl of salsa and chips were delivered, and it was some of the best I’ve had. Probably ancho chilies and it was more of a sauce than salsa with a delightful smoky taste with just enough heat to tickle the tongue and not sweat the neck. I ordered a “standard” margarita, which turned out to be fishbowl size. I never get frozen, and this was nicely prepared with a salted rim.

The menu had a bewildering number of choices, starting with (about ten) Antojito’s, then running through Especialidades, Parrillas, Sopas y Ensaladas, Platos de Enchiladas, (sic) Favorites, with each category containing 8 or so options. What’s a tourist to do? Well, we started with a split order of Angelica’s Ceviche Fino: Delicate white fish, thinly sliced red onions and jalapeño peppers marinated in fresh lime juice and tossed in an oregano vinaigrette, served with avocado, cilantro and homemade tostadas. For the main plates, after much thrashing I took the Chile Relleno: Poblano pepper stuffed with spiced beef, potato and raisins topped with our delicious ranchero sauce and white cheese. The nuance of the raisins sort of tipped the scales to that. MFO opted for a little more adventurous Carne de Puerco en Chile Cascabel: Tender pork tips in a chile cascabel sauce. All of course were served with rice and refried beans. Other dishes available were beef tounge, grilled sweet breads, crispy tripas, chicharrones guisados, many preparations of shrimp, fish, pollo, etc., on and on. It would take a long time to eat your way through this menu…

About this time the Ceviche arrived, and it was just great. “Fresh” is the word that came to mind throughout the meal, and the starter certainly embodied it. The fish was indeed delicate but had flavor, and the onions and peppers were “just sliced” fresh. A great starter. Another (small) margarita later, the main dishes arrived. I wished I had the camera gear (and the nerve) as each plate was just gorgeous. Beautiful colors, nice aromas, and everything tasted just great. Service remained attentive; the clearing staff were dressed in all black and carried on conversations in Spanish. Sometime I gotta learn that language. By the way, the raisins in the fresh stuffed chile were just great touch..Other diners were in various stages of DFD, but in this very informal place it didn’t matter. Everybody seemed happy.

I’m sure there are other more upscale places to eat, but this meal capped off a wonderful afternoon and evening in San Antonio. I think that town deserves a longer visit. If you do go, put Rosario's on the schedule, and you wouldn't have to consider how you

DFD

Lunches and Friends, Second Take...

After meeting our friend in Yuma Arizona (and the Cracker Barrel experience), we slogged on to Eloy, where MFO’s brother lives in retirement (sort of). They live in one of those communities plopped onto the desert which contains a golf course (thanks to irrigation), recreational facilities, and stuff like that. Incidentally, Eloy claims it’s the sky diving capitol of America, and judging by the numbers of people we saw dropping from the sky, it’s likely they’re correct.

Up the road from there is the megalopolis of Phoenix, and it is there that another friend now lives. Besides being a long time associate at McDonnell/Boeing and then Pax, we’ve remained good friends and I have always appreciated his outlook on life and his advice of “we must learn to be content”. I’m still trying to learn that. Anyway, we arranged to meet in Gilbert, on the Southern side of the big city at a little restaurant called Romeos Euro Café. On the drive up to meet him, I added to my growing collection of restaurant signs





Also along the way, we were ushered by the silent sentinels of the desert



Aided by the new Droid’s GPS feature we found the place with no difficulty, although we did arrive somewhat after our targeted meeting time.



It is in a building with several other businesses, and basically it’s a wine store with tables kind of like our Blue Wind Gourmet. High ceilings, with an “open kitchen”, and there are lots of interesting wines to look at.



Between our tardiness and our friend’s early arrival, he was on his second cup of coffee and was really ready to talk when we arrived. It’s such a treat to see friends you haven’t been with for a while, and we had lots to catch up on. All agreed that the first order of business was to have a celebratory glass of wine, and after getting up to read the blackboard of by the glass selections we chose a Viognier. After it warmed a bit, it showed nice fruits and was quite tasty.

Finally turning our attention to food, we were given the menu which was like a small notebook. An amazing array of choices available with several different cuisines represented, although generally of Mediterranean heritage. Lots of Greek and Italian dishes like Mediterranean Stuffed Gyros, Fillomousaka, Sausage Sophia (Italian sausage with bell peppers, garlic, capers, mushrooms, pine nuts, zucchini and scallions in olive oil and herbs). But there was also Paella Barcelona (Shrimp, chicken, clams, Italian sausage, hearts of artichoke and palm, spinach, red bell peppers, onions, whole garlic,
peeled tomatoes and brown rice), Wiener Schnitzel, small plates, appetizers, salads, sandwiches (a Pita Reuben), “subs and burgersubs” you name it.
After some deliberation, our friend chose the Wiener Schnitzel (reflecting his Germanic heritage), MFO got the Broiled Chicken Salad (Grilled chicken, tossed with artichokes, roasted red peppers, black olives, green onions, walnuts on a bed of lettuce with a lemon mustard sauce). I got a dish called something like “Bacon Wrapped Shrimp with garlic bruscetta on linguine”. When I ordered it our server (by this time a good friend of our companion) said, “Well, I have to warn you that that dish is all about the bacon, and not about the shrimp”. Bacon wrapped shrimp is always good so I said I’d take my chances and go ahead and get it.

When we ordered another glass of wine, the helpful lady said that three glasses of by the glass was about equal to a bottle, so we said, sure, bring it on..

After some pretty tasty side salads, the entrees were delivered to the table



Notice my shrimp in the foreground (and the schnitzel and salad behind). Indeed it was bacon wrapped, but maybe better described as “bacon encased”. The only hint that shrimp was involved was their little tails sticking out. Perceptive readers may recall a dish called something like “Bacon Explosion” which was documented in a feeder a while back which was basically sausage wrapped in bacon, then more bacon, and finally a lot more bacon. Well, this immediately brought it to mind. When I cut into it I had to sort of peer closely to make sure there actually was shrimp in there. Yes there were, but look at the proportions



That is not to say that the dish was not tasty, you can’t miss with bacon fat, but after about two of the little packages(aided by the pasta), the appetite quailed and I couldn’t finish it. It was very good, but maybe I should have heeded the advice of the lady. The other dishes at the table were good and of equally hearty proportions. For dessert we had another glass of wine (the bottle apparently had a leak).

This time the food enhanced the experience of seeing a good friend, and next time you’re in Gilbert, I’d recommend a stop. Just think twice before ordering the bacon wrapped shrimp. There are a lot of other good menu choices while you are

DFL

Lunch and Friends : First edition......

We have often extolled the value of friends. As time moves on, so do some of them, and we got a chance to renew bonds with a couple of them. We’re now leaving San Diego on I10, headed East at last (time warp). After leaving the lush green hills around San Diego, you’re soon into the desert



Mother Nature has her fun with the landscape and gives you some bizarre things to look at



Mile after mile (next facilities 65 miles) goes by and pretty soon the land flattens into down right desert with all the neat plants, widely spaced, vying for whatever moisture there is. Ocotillo, Cholla, Manzanita, and other adaptive forms of plant life adorn the landscape.



As we approached Yuma, there began to be evidence of more plentiful water and palm trees appeared sometimes



I wonder why out here in the middle of nowhere (figuratively speaking) my cell phone still works? Hey! Look at that palm tree!



Pretty soon we were not far from the Mexican Border, and got a look at “the Fence”



We had chances to talk to the nice gentlemen of the Border Patrol occasionally



Yessir, we are indeed American Citizens. Would we have all this stuff if we were smuggling something? (thought, not said). We were continually waived through – have a nice day sir.

And you never know what you’re going to see along the way




Back to the friends part, one of our good friends from Historic St. Mary’s City relocated to Yuma, and thanks to the “I’m a palm tree! I’m a palm tree!” cell towers we arranged to meet for lunch. Expediency, location, and ease of getting to led us to agree to meet at a Cracker Barrel near the freeway. A welcome sight to see actual buildings and miles and miles of sand, cactus (next facilities 45 miles), and without much thrashing, we found the place. I think I am proud to say that this was the first time I’ve been inside the ubiquitous road side haven of “hominess” although desert southwest and down home is a tortured juxtaposition.

We were fearful that a wait was required due to the people hanging around outside, but closer inspection revealed that most were outside because smoking was not allowed inside. Upon entering, you find that you’re in the “gift shop” with all sorts of candles in jars, preserves (just like grandma used to make – 12,000 cases at a time), buttermilk pancake mix, and other country items. Want a “military” rocker? Look no further.. Anyway our request for three for lunch resulted in being ushered from the packed gift shop to the equally busy dining area. “Rustic” might characterize the décor, with booths fashioned out of rough hewn lumber (no splinters). We were approached by “Hi I’m” and given our choices of Breakfast (served all day) or Lunch Menus. We chose the latter..it’s loaded with choices of sandwiches, salads, sides, low carbs, and platters. Somehow, the letters “g, a, and d” has been misplaced at Cracker Barrel. There are “Fancy Fixin’s”; “Salads n’ Stuff”; “Vegetables n’ Sides”; and if you want something to drink it’s under “Beverages n’ Juices”.

I finally settled on the Country Chef Salad (Fresh greens topped with a bounty of oven roasted turkey breast, sugar cured ham, hickory smoked bacon, shredded Colby cheese, boiled egg, tomato, all topped with a wedge of Colby cheese, red onion and our own sourdough croutons), and MFO selected the (sic) Home Made Chicken Salad (Our own chicken salad is made from scratch with chicken tenderloin and served over fresh greens, with boiled egg and tomato all topped with a wedge of Colby cheese, and our own sourdough croutons). Notice the communality of several ingredients? And, our friend decided to go straight for dessert and chose the Fruit Cobbler (today’s offering was peach).

In the dead period between ordering and actually being served, we had a good chance to catch up on old times, what’s happening now, and where we’re headed. Again, food aside this is what makes it nice.

When the food arrived, it actually was fresh, the lunch meat in the chef’s salad was moist, the bacon was good (you can’t miss with bacon), and they supplied enough blue cheese dressing to satisfy me. MFO said the chicken salad was “okay”. The dessert was ample and was cleaned up with no effort.

After finishing conversation and meal, we fought our way through the gift shop again into the “it’s a dry heat” sunshine. It’s so fun to see friends, have good conversation and find that new locations don’t diminish the friendship, and new jobs can be fun. For today, whatever we wore, we were

DFL

Click, Snap, Twist.....

The sounds you hear are the locks being closed on the memory box for the epic journey.










No more “where shall we get gas?”; “what’s that noise?”; “how many more miles?”; and other travails of day to day travel. But also safe are the wonderful meals, great times spent with family and friends we don’t see enough of, the awesome scenery and a realization of what a large and beautiful country we are blessed to occupy. Somehow flying over the landscape doesn’t give you the same feel as driving over it mile by mile by mile. Over the course of the weeks, we drove through 13 states (and not the puny little ones either), and put 7721 miles on the Momster who performed pretty well for a lady of her age. The beauty of nature is awesome: oceans, mountains, deserts, hills, bayous, swamps, rivers, bays and cities. I think it will take some time to recall all the little joys we had, from the home made signs for boiled crawfish to the little road side stands of fresh food



and the realization of how many restaurants still exist that are not chains.



Oh, yeah, and there was that lovely dinner with friends, and gosh, there’s a sandhill crane, boy, look at those rocks!, Hi Ed! Nice to see you, Roger! John and that leisurely lunch. Real Italian food in Louisiana… the countless “Hi I’ms…..” and the truly good service.

So, there are still a few stories to be told. And, despite the fact that we’re back in the digs, if the readers will indulge me I think over the next few days we’ll re-live a few of the memories..

And maybe not so coincidentally, a second lock box closes, as today marks the end of my first year of “retirement”. Mr. Garcia’s line of “what a long strange trip it’s been” applies not only to the physical journey we just completed, but also the mental journey that I am still in the midst of. It has not been as easy as I thought. It’s damn hard. Since this is just a snippet, we’ll leave some more deep thoughts for another time..

Journeys are always educational, maybe not always what you thought, but you do learn something about yourself. I know I took away some lessons that will apply to future ramblings. Like leisure travel requires hard work….

Second worst roadside sign: “Road Work Ahead”

Worst roadside sign: “Next Facilities 95 Miles”

But, through it all, we were always

DFD

A Command Performance....

In what may be a gastronomical record, after our memorable lunch in Houme we finished our dining experiences in New Orleans that evening with a dinner at Commander’s Palace, a venerable restaurant that has been garnering accolades for decades, beginning in the late 19th century

Upon returning to the hotel after lunch we rested a little, walked a little and then got DFD’d for the evening. Still avoiding herding the Momster through the maze of one way and small streets of the down town sector, we got a cab and had a nice ride through the garden district past the lovely homes there to the restaurant which is located in the Garden District in an old ante bellum Victorian house. Since sometime in the mid last century, it has been under the Brennan umbrella, which alert readers will know is an important name in the New Orleans food scene.

Having made our reservation on line, we were a little worried (of course) but again fears were foundless. Upon disembarking from the cab, the valet parkers greeted us with a pleasant, eye contacting, “good evening, welcome to Commander’s Palace!). This spirit continued throughout the evening, as all the servers said “hello” or some other greeting as you passed them or they came to the table. At the “stand” inside the door, we were acknowledged and immediately shown to our table. We were seated in the maid dining room although come to find out there are several in the building. It was high ceilinged, somewhat ornately decorated and many tables. Most were occupied, several of them with family groups sporting balloons indicating special events. Locals and special occasions are a good sign. Of course there were also tables occupied by tourists and business men, and for the most part DFD was observed. And, in fact in the little e-mail we received confirming our reservation it was mentioned that they prefer gentlemen wear jackets.

Commander’s Palace (CP) is an old time classic model of a restaurant. That is, there is a “captain” for the room, a person in charge of your table, and a host of “back waiters” whose tasks are to make sure you have your correct silver, the glasses are kept full, dishes are removed, and the general mechanics of dining are taken care of. Upon being seated the captain, a pleasant man in a gray suit and tie, approached the table and asked if we would care for a drink. MFO deferred (the Vouvray of the afternoon still somewhat present), but of course duty made me order “the drink”. He immediately asked if that meant I wanted a little bit of sweet vermouth, or dry. Imagine that! Soon after that, our server Edward came with the menus. He, like the entire wait staff were dressed in black slacks, and gray vests over a white shirt. They did have a name badge, but names were never exchanged. The menu is a large, one sided plastic card with basically three areas: a la carte; Chef Tory’s Three Course Specials; and The Chef’s Playground. The latter two are basically prix fixe menus with the “three” having soup/salad, a couple of entrée choices, and desserts. The latter is a more elaborate adventure, almost a tasting menu consisting of 7 courses with such items as: Foie Gras “Du Monde” - Skillet roasted foie gras over spiced apple, pecan and foie gras beignets with a foie gras café au lait and chicory coffee “mist”; and Cracklin’ Crusted Duck - Hot & sour melted onions over Jack Daniels-buttermilk coush-coush with pepper jelly glazed sweetbreads & roasted pecan duck fond. Each course has a suggested wine, and the food is $70 and the “optional” wines add another $40. I think you would have to be in pretty good shape to tackle that option, so we left it for another time.

Somewhere in there, my Manhattan made its appearance as did some excellent little garlic toasts to munch while absorbing the menu. After a bit of thrasing we settled on first courses of a citrus salad for MFO, and after consulting with Edward who said there were people that had their turtle soup daily, I tried the “Soups 1-1-1”, which consisted of a demitasse of their soup du jour (a crab and corn chowder), the gumbo du jour (classic shrimp) and their famous turtle soup. For main courses MFO took a wild mushroom strudel, and I went for their signature Pecan Crusted Gulf Fish - Champagne poached jumbo lump crab, crushed corn sauce and spiced pecans; which narrowly nosed out an interesting Black Skillet Seared Wild Fish - A hearty selection of winter vegetables with char grilled Meyer lemons, ripped herbs and brown butter vinaigrette.

Having settled on the food, attention was turned to the wine list. The wine list is about telephone book size, with a table of contents. New world reds, whites, a whole section devoted to burgundies, multiple pages of Bordeaux’s, Alsatian, German, you name it. Almost any price imaginable. An amazing document. We settled on an ’03 Nuits-Saint Georges 1er Cru, “Les Pruliers”.

As we sat, we saw several dishes passed of their “crispy” whole fish special of the day, eyeing us as it went by. Service remained attentive and friendly, and then the food arrived. My soups were all good, but in fact, I did like the Turtle soup the most, although the gumbo and chowder were very good indeed. The main courses were also elegant, the pecan crusted fish had vertical development and was very tasty (the exact fish it was escapes me at the moment). For dessert, we had pre-ordered their (famous, of course) bread pudding as it was cooked to order, and we soldiered our way through that. It was lighter than I feared fortunately, otherwise it would have been a bit much. It was a great meal, second of the day! There was a certain energy around the place, and all the servers appeared to generally enjoy their role of making you happy. It's easy to see why this place remains at the top of several lists. They work hard at it...

During the meal we were visited by a member of the family, she was very gracious and said to be sure to get a kitchen tour at the end. We finally finished and Gregory our second waiter conducted us to the kitchen. It was a huge space with the cold space, the hot line, a completely different room for the pastry chef. What struck me was how quiet and efficiently things seemed to be going. There must have been at least a hundred diners in the building, but no evidence of scrambling was evident.

So, that ended our dining experiences in New Orleans, and probably the last big deal meal of the trip. At this point, resolve, budget considerations, and travel ennui have set in and I think that we’ll leave Savannah and Charleston to another time and RTB the digs..

But, there are still pictures, experiences, and restaurants to be recalled in future editions…

And, at the other end of the spectrum I have been informed that the Olive Garden in Lexington Park has opened to long lines, full parking lots, and the endless salad bowls and breadsticks must be flowing.. Sigh…..at least I hope there is some consideration for

DFD

A Real Find.....

As most loyal readers know, I get a lot of (food) magazines. One of which is “Southern Living”, a sort of smarmy feel good publication that idolizes the (perceived) tradition of southern culture. Of course, they have some food stuff, mostly given over to yams and sweet potatoes, marshmallows, and the like. MFO was perusing an issue a while ago and came across an article about a restaurant in Houme, LA, called Christianos. It was touted as an outpost of Italian Cuisine in the land of mudbugs and jambalaya. We filed it away.

Well, when the cross country travel plans formalized, we drug out the article and thought maybe we would try it when we came to the Big Easy. As plans firmed, the idea of getting a lunch someplace out of the city in a special place gained traction. Finally when we settled on the plans of Bayona and Commander’s Palace for dinners, we decided to include Christiano’s in the mix for a lunch. A chance to try something out of the ordinary. It proved to be a wise choice.

After our Bayona experience which good but somewhat below expectations, we awoke the next morning and got ourselves together (no small task), and jumped into the Momster and headed south into bayou country.



Houma (pronounced Home-a) is south and east of New Orleans, and the ride down produced a lot of interesting shots of “local” stuff .







After a bit of thrashing we finally found the restaurant on a side street on the same corner as the NAPA auto parts store



With some trepidation we went inside, they knew of our reservation, and we were about the first table to be seated (we had a 11:30 slot). The restaurant is in a renovated house with lots of little rooms and crannies, art on the walls, a pretty calming place. The menu was left at the table along with a wine list, and we were asked if we wanted still or sparking water. Since I was a bit recovering from the Bayona experience, I opted for sparking so two lovely clear blue bottles were brought to the table, along with a plate of lemon and lime wedges, looking extremely fresh cut. One side of the menu was the “winter” menu, and the other was the classic side. All Italian, the usual categories of Antipasta, zuppa/insalata, pasta and secondi plate. The “seasonal” side had fewer dishes, but kind of like Bayona, the more adventurous would find some interesting dishes there. While the “traditional” side had classics like Osso Buco and Vitella Marsala, the Inverno side offered things like an antipasto of Shaved duck prosciutto, house grated horseradish, organic baby arugula, and a secondi of Bourbon glazed duck breast, Madagascar vanilla risotto, arugula; and Skin on wild striped bass, porcini duxelle butter, and arugula risotto. We were also supplied the wine list and it was impressive indeed. Here in the lower portion of the bayous, you could get a Silver Oak, or maybe an Opus One, a selection of Turley wines, French and Italian. Prices were commensurate with the bottles, but not exhorbitant. To start with as we considered both the menu and wines, I had a glass of Vouvray, and MFO tried a Gewurtztraminer. Oh, our server merely asked about service with no personal information included. Some nice bread was brought, and the quiet lunch started to feel good. That leisurely lunch thing. The choice of antipasti was difficult. We passed up the Fried Green Tomato ~ Fried green tomato with lump crabmeat remoulade; and the Chef Mason’s Chargrilled Oysters ~ Chargrilled Louisiana oysters with roasted red bell pepper garlic butter in favor of splitting the Piatto di Charcuterie, a Selection of Italian meats and cheeses. For our mains I wanted to try the Pappardelle con Gamberi: Pappardelle pasta, gulf shrimp, fresh basil, pine nuts and garlic in butter sauce; and MFO went for Pollo Piccata: Sautéed chicken breast with white wine, lemon, butter & capers. I was a bit surprised that a Veal version wasn’t on the menu. Everything we had came from the classic menu. We were also told that that menu served for supper as well. Exhausted from this effort we decided that maybe a bottle of the Vouvray would be appropriate and it was brought to the table. I noted that it was at a perfectt “cellar” temperature instead of the all too common “refrigerator” temperature.

MFO asked if the Southern Living issue had made a good “bump” in their business and she said it had. About this time the Charcuterie arrived via another server. It was served on two cold slabs of marble, the lower one had 6 meats and the upper smaller one had four cheeses. The server described each of the ten items with a little about them, beef, pork, chorizo, speck, etc. Each cheese was explained as to milk, a cow’s milk gorgonzola, a bloomy rind sheep milk, etc. You know sometimes when you order these kinds of things at odd times (this was a Tuesday afternoon, the week after Mardi Gras) you get meat with a dried edge, or a shriveled cheese. Each of these were extremely fresh, just cut, still moist, the cheeses with no “hard parts”. Delightful stuff. In spite of ourselves we finished the ample servings (aided by the Vouvray). As we were finishing we were each given a single serving of one of Chef’s Oysters (it was explained that they do this for all “first time” diners). Plump local oysters (all of our seafood is five minutes away) with that roasted red bell pepper garlic butter, covering a just set very smoky oyster. A great dish. Somewhere in here a gentleman appeared at the table who turned out to be the general manager. We had great conversations on running a restaurant in an “out of the way” place, and that in fact they had done it for 12 years. He stopped by a couple more times to check on things.

The mains eventually arrived. I have to admit that I had hoped for a good dish, but was served an outstanding one. I would have to have a “taste off” with similar offerings from Tony’s..My pappardelle was long ribbons of a fresh pasta about an inch wide, with several shrimp swimming in a garlicky broth with the basil and pine nuts. Each shrimp wasn’t the “giant” kind, rather maybe index finger size, but I could believe the 5 minute theory. Great tasting shrimp. MFO’s chicken was light, moist with a great picatta sauce.

Food and wine both gone, we opted for a Tarte Tatin (okay, the French have some things right) and coffee. What a great meal. I don’t often subscribe to “destination dining”, but this would qualify. If you’re ever in the area, go there. This lunch will go down in the memory banks, right up there with the Tapenade experience.

After that, the long drive back to the city provided some more interesting shots.







The results of the evening’s meal at Commander’s Palace in next edition. For which you can be sure we were

DFD

Risky Business....

Hello again, it’s that old thing about doing things gets in the way of talking about doing things. I’m going to fast forward over many, (many, many) miles of deserts, mountains, two lunches with two good friends, a great “off” half day in San Antonio and the River Walk, a good Mexican/Southwestern dinner, and catch up on those later because they do deserve talking about and looking at. So here we are in the Big Easy for welcome day of lay over.

I was struck last night by the “taking a risk” thought I had about Tapenade in La Jolla which turned out to be unfounded. Many (repeat) years ago, when I was beginning to wake up to what good food can mean, I tagged along with MFO to a library convention that was held here in New Orleans. I had done a little research and read some magazine articles, and was attracted to a restaurant called Bayona with (then) a lauded chef, Susan Spicer. It was on this same trip we were treated to Dookie Chase. Anyway, I had a night to myself so took the chance to visit Bayona. I don’t remember about drink tests, but I do remember that after much consideration, I had my first dish of Sweetbreads, and found out how things you might fear putting in your mouth can delight you when you do. That meal has remained high on the list of “memorables” in my aging brain. So, it was with much anticipation (and yes, high expectations) we decided to make Bayona our first meal of three planned here in New Orleans: lunch today (an adventure) and dinner tonight.

Over 500 miles from San Antonio found us getting here around 7:00, giving enough time to undialate our eyes, relax a bit, DFD, and still make our 8:30 reservation (it was that or 6 when we called to reserve). Not wanting another driving adventure in the Momster, we took a cab and arrived at the quiet street (Rue Dauphine), and entered at the side of the quaint old building.. Good evening Mr. Moody, your table is not quite ready, but please have a seat in the lounge and enjoy a drink for a few minutes. We joined about 6 others in a similar situation, and eventually the hostess took our drink order. MFO selected a glass of white “Mastroberardi” which we assumed was Italian. I did the standard drink test, and was asked what bourbon I preferred, a good sign. About this time we became aware (we couldn’t avoid it) of the party at the other end of the salon, which contained a gentleman who apparently assumed that everyone eagerly wanted to know what he was thinking at any particular moment. One of those people who sort of “perform” in a grand voice proclaiming loudly that he would like a drink, what did the ladies want, and so forth. Mercifully their table was ready and they departed with much self appointed fan fare. We secretly prayed that our table wasn’t adjoining theirs (which proved to be true, thank you very much).

Before our drinks arrived we were shown to our table, a four top against the back wall, providing an excellent view of the whole room. Although memories of the food remained, any trace of the space had vanished. Tables were nicely set with white linen, silver utensils, and crystal. The walls were covered in a light chocolate colored fabric, and there were several panels of mirrors with muntins giving the effect of windows and opening up the space. Quite comfortable. We were approached by a young man in a blue shirt and slacks who brought with him a little amuse bouche of house pickled olives, cauliflower, and garlic cloves (I had to ask).. I was surprised, because we got the “Hi I’m …. . be taking care of you along with …… tonight”, and when he was advised our drinks were on order, he departed. Eventually the other half of the team arrived and said the bar was a bit backed up but our drinks would be right out. We probably were now 20 minutes or so after ordering them. The room was pretty full, so we were not surprised. After another few minutes, they did arrive, and I am pleased to report that they passed the test with a perfectly prepared dry Manhattan. MFO’s wine was characterizes as “flinty”, and was served at a drinkable temperature instead of the all too common ice box cold. At that point she also asked if we had been there before, and when I replied it was years ago, she thanked me for coming back (with a twinkle) and said she would explain the menu anyway. On one side of the two page menu were the classic dishes, called the “signature dinner menu” which have not changed in 20 years (and did contain those sweetbreads); while the other was printed the day (with date) with the daily selections.

Signature starters had things like: Goat Cheese Crouton with Mushrooms in Madeira Cream, and Grilled Shrimp with Black Bean Cake and Coriander Sauce;
entrees included those “Veal Sweetbreads with Sherry Mustard or Lemon Caper Butter” along with “Grilled Duck Breast with Pepper Jelly Sauce and Wild Rice”. There were not many choices in each category, but each were tempting.

Daily specials included things a bit farther afield like starters of Grilled Tomatoes, Warm Pancetta & Arugula, Shaved Pecorino, Balsamic Vinegar, and Coho Salmon Tartare, Smoked Salmon Beignet & Grilled Salmon Belly Gravlax. The main courses included options such as Andouille-stuffed Rabbit Roulade & Buttermilk Fried Leg, Smothered Greens, Stoneground Grits, Creole Mustard Sauce; Niman Ranch Pork Chop, Rosemary, Crispy Polenta, Broccoli Raab, Roasted Red Pepper-Garlic Relish

She highlighted a couple of dishes here and there letting us know that “this is one of my favorites”. Okay hold it right there, lady…I was surprised that in this high end restaurant, there had now been two of what I consider amateurish service blunders. The name thing and the server telling me what she liked. Who needs that?? If I say I’m interested in seafood, she can suggest, but I’m not about to select something because my server likes it. I don’t know her tastes.

Thank you, we’ll consider, and off she went. Bread was delivered and we munched while thinking about our selections. Finally, after the second Manhattan, I couldn’t resist re-visiting those sweetbreads, this time as a starter, and then when in the south, go for the rabbit with Boudin, and MFO selected a salad with fried egg, and for her main course the peppered lamb loin with goat cheese and Zinfandel sauce. That settled, we turned to the wine list which was extensive. For instance there were 21 sparkling wines, with some obscure labels and many 3 figure prices. All the other categories were equally filled with many choices, domestic and foreign. Given our food selections, I easily fell for Pinot, and since we were “on vacation” I went for a Burgundy, an ’06 Fixin 1er Cru, Clos Napoleon from Domaine Pierre Gelin. 06 wasn’t a huge vintage, but usually premier crus make the best of what they have, and besides this wine wasn’t one of those 3 figure jobs.. The wine appeared exactly as on the wine list (always check), and it tasted fine.

The food soon arrived and without going on and on, it was as exquisite as I had hoped. Everything on the plate stood on its own, the sweetbreads, the rabbit, the sausage the grits, and MFO’s lamb was exactly as described for “medium” pink, warm center.

Throughout the meal our server checked occasionally, but it seemed that while she asked, her eyes were darting to other tables, and it was more perfunctorial than a real interest in our well being. About half way through, the table next to us turned, and four people were seated that MFO characterized as “soprano like”. Well DFD’d for sure, but another centerpiece show. Kind of loud, cell phones constantly being eyed or texting, that kind of thing. Not much consideration for anybody but themselves. Fortunately we were pretty much through, and just before we left, they were joined by (and I’m not making this up) two people in jeans and tee shirts with writing on the back. No evidence of self conciousness, they sat down and joined the hoopla. When our server brought the (considerable) check, we mentioned that we thought they were inappropriately dressed, and she said something like “yes, but what can you do?”

Well, I’ll tell you what you can do, you can follow Bayona’s own dress code “the requested attire at Bayona is casually elegant or business casual. We do not require coats or ties for gentlemen”.

Since we had to wait for a cab, we expressed the same sentiment to at least that evening’s manager, and didn’t get much of a response. I’m sure that table will generate three or four times what our table did, but our table was disappointed.

So this time the risk of going back was realized, but not for the food which was again outstanding, but for service that to me didn’t fit the restaurant and the lack of others respect for the food. In the end, I would almost have to say we felt “processed” rather than served. Will we go back? Sure, we would, but it wouldn’t be without some trepidation.. and, we (as were the great preponderance of other diners) were

DFD

And PS to my newly found cyber friend formerly from NO, I would be interested if you ever go back now some 8 years later and see what you think….

Taking a Risk...

A quieter second day in the San Diego area included some more birding in the morning



A peaceful afternoon spent leading up to the culinary highlight to date, and which will face stiff competition not to remain at the top of the list. We always face a challenge when going to a city to try to find a good meal, and I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t always do sufficient homework. Yelp, Chowhound, Zagat, Epicurious all have guides but they’re tough and who knows how reliable. We’ve dined at several places in San Diego, and the travails of just getting there sort of overcame any research.

So, a decision of our hosts and us was to return to Tapenade in La Jolla, the scene of a previous wonderful meal. Hazardous as it is to return, we relied on its continuing reputation as one of the areas top dining spots. A reservation was secured for 6:45 and we showed up quite promptly. As all alert readers will know, Tapenade is a condiment from Provence, and hence French cuisine featured. It’s hard not to talk about “last time”, but it seemed the “maitre de” was a bit more French as was our server, Gregory. At first we thought him overbearing as he had a heavy French accent and was very demonstrative. Come to find out he was from the town of Albi, and as the evening wore on he became quite friendly.

We were seated at a table in the middle of the room, nearby the table from “last time”. We thought maybe the room had been re-painted from “last time”, but of course memories fade. Still it’s minimal and plain décor, but verypleasant. Upon being seated we were given menus and a cocktail list. Eventually Gregory (with no names mentioned) came and asked about drinks, and recited the appetizer and entrée specials of the night. Of course, I immediately forgot them. I applied the drink test, and MFO asked for the wine list for a glass of wine. The wine list was supplied and she wanted a glass of Sancerre. Fine. After a bit too long, the maitre de arrived with a silver tray with two “up” manhattans, dark with sweet vermouth, and a cheery. Um, excuse me, we asked for a dry manhatten, on the rocks, with a twist. To his credit, he replied: “well I guess we missed on three accounts” and left. He came back with exactly the right drink, and it was gratefully accepted. Bread was supplied, and we began to settle into the meal.

They have an interesting menu, one for “les Classiques” and one for “Winter Flavors”, a nice touch. The “classiques” offered such dishes as “Homard au maïs blanc, cèpes et vanille Tahitienne, (which of course you know is) Maine Lobster, White Corn, Porcini Mushrooms and English Peas, Corn and Tahitian Vanilla Sauce” or the classic Coq au Vin de Bourgogne. On the seasonal side were dishes like: Saint Jacques, Vonassienne au poireau, champignons, asperges; Diver Maine Scallops, Yukon Gold Potato and Leeks "Pancake" with Green Asparagus, Wild mushrooms & Port Wine Sauce. Or Sanglier Braisé "à l'ancienne": Braised Wild Boar, Celeriac and Black Truffle Raviolis, Root Vegetables with Huckleberry Red Wine Sauce. My god, how can you not love this stuff..

After settling in with the drinks and orders selected, I looked at the wine list. A challenge with appetizers chosen of Wild Mushroom Raviolis, a Mesclun salad, Lobster Minestrone, and I took the special Foie Gras Terrine. Chosen entrees were the Diver Maine Scallops (St. Jacques); the “Salmon d’Alaska”; and when it was determined that MFO secured the last scallop dish, the duck breast was selected. I could not resist trying the wild boar. What the hell. As I said, wine was problematical, so go with the middle of the road Pinot Noir. Scouring the wine list, I eventually found an Oregon Domaine Serene, which I had enjoyed before. It was listed as the ’06 vintage.

The appetizers arrived, delivered ladies first, not “who had the..”. The foibles of the wrong drink, the little too long time for service were erased with the taste. I don’t care what you think about Foie Gras, it’s a damn lovely food. God it was good. Everyone else appreciated their first course. Great presentations, good flavor, although there was some reluctance on the lobster minestone..

The wine delivered to the table was an ’07 vintage. When I pointed out it was on the wine list as ’06 it was removed, but alas, a search of the cellar didn’t reveal an’06. Unfortunately, I’m not yet good enough to know if an Oregon ’06 is better than ’07 so I accepted. In truth, it was not what I had hoped. I had remembered concentration of fruit with dark colors, but I didn’t find this in the ’07.

Entrees arrived and erased any apprehensions of “last time”. Without any emoting they were outstanding. The boar (tastes like beef) was tender, flavorful, and, as is a signal of a great place, each side made you pay attention.

Gregory softened, and with the food and wine, dessert was accepted. The crème brulee was served as a “ball” and was a great finish to a wonderful meal.

If you’re in San Diego and do the Del for lunch you couldn’t go wrong at Tapenade..It’s just amazing what can be done with food….and of course we were

DFD

Welcome to the Hotel ..... Del!! (not California...)

For us, no trip to the San Diego area is complete without a visit to the venerable Hotel Del Coronado on Coronado Island. Somehow despite the thousands of tourists that swarm over the place it seems to be able to retain its elegance and style. Many changes of ownership have brought some differences but mainly the old girl has kept her grace.





And again for us, no trip is complete without a brunch/lunch on the ocean terrace, now called “Sheerwater” for some unknown reason (maybe one of those ownership things). It is a splendid place to watch the ocean roll in, the whole spectrum of DF and NDF people wandering around, the occasional bevy of seals (Navy, not animals – no comments please), and enjoy consistently prepared food. As most of the outside tables were occupied, we opted to be on sort of the veranda with no sun issues, a bit more privacy, and less bird issues (the only continuing detraction). Having been there over a number of years, we recognized a few of the servers, aged like us, but still there. There is some reason for that, they are always courteous, respectful and friendly despite your state of DF. We accepted the menus, and again (good habits are okay), we decided on the traditional ($15) glass of champagne. MFO selected Domaine Chandon, and I took Jornan “J” Brut. Our friends decided to try a Mojito. The much needed drink choices being settled we took a look at the menu, which is just right for an outside(ish) brunch, whether you’re looking for lighter dining or heavier fare. There are starters with soups, bisques, fondues (!!??!!), Salads, Plates, Flatbreads and Sandwiches. A lot of seafood there, but also for those with heartier appetites the good old American “aged white cheddar bacon burger” served with fries, and with a nod to California, served on a brioche roll. A nice feature is “pairings” which are half sandwich/quesadilla/flatbread with half soup/salad. Meanwhile our drinks arrived





I went for the “whole” flatbread: Shrimp Scampi and Goat Cheese Flatbread with roasted red pepper, arugula, whole grain mustard, pesto. Others went for the various half and half creations of Rustic Chicken Noodle Soup & Hearts of Romaine Salad and - 1/2 Achiote Chicken Flatbread & Lobster Bisque. Conversation, people watching, and eavesdropping on tables filled the interim and then the food arrived. Again, despite the high volume they turn out a pretty nice dish.



Prices are not punishing, for instance the “pairings” are the same price as that champagne. Besides, who cares when they also buy you the experience of the Del. Don’t miss it.

Then some shopping, and we exited through the lovely and much unused courtyard.



The rest of the afternoon was occupied by shopping the local area on the distaff side, and the male half went birding to Santee Lakes which supplied some excellent views of waterfowl.




That evening the high level of food continued on our host’s table, consisting of some Thai Curried Shrimp, some green beans, a lovely salad, and oh, yes, some wine.



Life can be good if you are

DFD

Next, we hit a culinary high light which may not be exceeded for the rest of the journey, and then head back west (with new brake pads)