2016-10-14

Saturday, October 1, 2016.

Part 2: Lunch In Quebec City.

Our wanderings through Quebec’s old town take us past the restaurant where the Eat Club dined last time we were here. Aux Ancienne Canadiens. The name comes from a novel set in the early years of Canada, the author of which lived in the place in the early 1800s. The building is much older, having gone up in 1676. The food is robust and country-style, which is a good description of Quebecois cuisine in general. The servers are dressed in regional and historical clothes. It’s regarded by the locals as a tourist place, but I am in fact a tourist, and find the place as interesting as it is good.

But we keep on walking, past many cafes specializing in crepes and omelettes, and that horrific Canadian snack food called poutine. That word translates into the cheese-and-gravy-topped French fries that are popular in New Orleans poor boy shops, but with a different, much lighter kind of cheese.

We finally fetch up at a hotel with a large outdoor dining area and a French menu. What catches my eye are the mussels, since this is mussel country. They are served with what’s universally called “white wine sauce.” I’ve seen that moniker from Belgium to Italy to New York to home. It’s misleading. The sauce is a thick affair that appears to be founded on mayonnaise, with the wine being barely detectable. It is very good, however. (The one I had during my honeymoon with MA in Ghent, Belgium made my mussels highwater mark.)

The restaurant here is populated by young people having lingering lunches with wine and cheese and pates and the like. The waiter encourages a leisurely pace. The trees nearby are still mostly green–we won’t see many bright reds and oranges and yellows until we’re on our way to the airport tomorrow–but the entire area is very pleasant. The Frenchness of it all keeps me thinking that indeed we are in France.

We walk off lunch with a climb up stairs up the side of the lofty hill in the center of old town. It is quite a climb, and every time the stairs take a turn, we expect the the hike is near its end–but it never is. No wonder they have funicular lifts here and there.

The shops here seem a bit more everyday than the ones below. Here is where you go for your magazines and newspapers and cigarettes and produce. The streets are also less amenable to finding one’s way around, and we lose our way. But around the corner is a tourist information shop. Since we are so high up the hill, we can see the entire route from where we are to the ship. En route, we encounter three major weddings, with carillon bells playing their familiar nuptial melodies.

I’ve said this every time I’ve been in Quebec City, and it’s affirmed again: the old town has few modern buildings, and the old ones are striking. That, added to the nice people, the shops and restaurants, and the French language, make me wish the New Orleans French Quarter were more like it. Everything about Quebec feels clean and substantial, compared with what we have at home.

But we do have better food than Quebec does.

Back at the ship, this voyage is clearly winding down. I show up for our nightly cocktail hour, but it’s a half-hour before anyone else turns up. The waiters in the dining room are saying good-byes while making bananas Foster (yes!).

As I walk around the ship, I ask perfect strangers how they liked the show last night. Almost everyone I so importune says it was great. “Did you like my song?” I ask.

“What was your song?”

“Come Fly With Me! I was the Sinatra wanna-be!”

“Oh! That was you? You are very good!” Music to my ears.

Less fun but some release of tension comes when I learn that the cruise line rescheduled many of the airline flights to make them actually possible. I go to the desk to check this out, and I am given new flight numbers and departure times for my own afflicted travel plans. This is what I have been asking for. After a week, I finally have it.

But not everybody does. John Volpe–who sells the commercials on my radio show–had a particularly horrible flight roundup, one he shared with me yesterday afternoon in Real Time. Between the ship and New Orleans, he will have to spend a night in a hotel in New York. What a mess this has been.

Sunday, October 2,2016.

Walking Around Quebec City Some More.



All passengers on the Princess Caribbean must disembark today. Our orders are to be the last to leave, at a quarter to eleven. We are taken by bus to spend one more night in Quebec City. We will be in the astonishing Chateau Frontenac. It’s the most-photographed hotel in the world, and looks like a castle. It’s a Fairmont hotel now, but its raison d’ete was to be an overnight stop for passengers on the Canadian Pacific and Canadian National railroads.

We arrive noonish, and after an initially chaotic check-in, Lynn and I find ourselves in a two-bedroom suite whose windows look directly at the immense clock tower in the center of the Frontenac address. It is very impressive.

We take another walk around, helped by the altitude of the hotel. First stop is for lunch, in what looked like a charming crepe and omelette café. It has a large outdoor area and a setup for a band that would begin playing shortly.

The dining was uninspiring. The waitress decided not to speak much English, which casts a pall on the situation. Nor did she want to take orders for more than two courses at a time. At least we won’t have that problem of two hot dishes arriving simultaneously.

As hard as I tried to come across as friendly and eager to be there, we never get a warmup from the server. The food is forgettable. That’s what I get for not checking my guidebook before we left.

After that, we spend a long time on the boardwalk along the riverfront. It resembles the New Orleans riverfront, except that the Quebec frontage on the St. Lawrence is not much developed. Musicians play every block or two. An exhibit of Salvador Dali sculptures appear every hundred feet or so. From any angle, Chateau Frontenac looks ever more amazing.

We discuss having a drink in the hotel’s impressive bar–where I had a Negroni four years ago. But I am out of energy, and the stresses of the past two weeks are subsiding. I need a nap. At least I won’t be kept awake by another round of disaster.

Or would I? At around nine p.m., Mary Ann calls to ask me why I am not at Chez Boulay. Our original plans were to hold an Eat Club finale dinner there tonight. But not as many of our group were spending the extra night as I hoped for. And the four-a.m. flights would be a problem for a dinner that starts the night before at nine p.m. I canceled the event over a week ago. I did this with regret, because we dined at Boulay last time we were in Quebec, and found it spectacularly fine, with an exotic menu that covered not only the local styles but also dishes from other northerly places in the world.

But Mary Ann didn’t know this, and had confirmed our appearance with twenty-four people. Some showed up, but not enough for the management not to be rightfully upset at our absence. This was the last thing I wanted to hear, but I can’t blame it on anyone else but myself. It made me sick. I could only think that this will be the last cruise I ever organize.

Monday, October 3, 2016.

Traveling All Day Homeward.

Our revised airline tickets have us leaving Quebec at eight in the morning. An hour to the airport, then a three-hour wait to check in, followed by a flight to Newark. Now three hours to Houston, followed by the short hop to New Orleans. Lynn was more miserable than I was, with a developing cold that had stopped up her ears. Agony in the sky for her. Mary Ann picked us up at around nine p.m. after sitting in for me on the radio show I had expected to do myself. Then home, my favorite place to be at this point in time.



Tiramisu

“Tira mi su” literally means “pick me up” in Italian. That’s what’s alleged to happen when you eat this espresso-doused cake, although I think the sugar contributes more to that effect than the espresso does. It’s a a creation of relatively recent vintage, but it has become universal in Italian restaurants around the world. There are two styles of making it, both authentic. This one uses lady finger cakes, and is served by scooping it out of the pan with a big spoon. It can also be made (using the same other ingredients and assembly method) with sheets of sponge cake, and served in slices.

Tiramisu

Filling:

2 egg yolks

1/2 cup sugar

1 cup mascarpone cheese

1 pint whipping cream, chilled

1 tsp. vanilla

1/2 tsp. almond extract

2 Tbs. sugar

3/4 cup espresso or very strong coffee

1 oz. creme de cacao (or dark rum)

12-18 lady fingers

2 Tbs. cocoa powder

2 oz. semi-sweet chocolate, shaved into slivers

1. With an electric mixer, beat the egg yolks and half of the sugar together until the sugar is no longer gritty. Add the mascarpone cheese and beat it until smooth and light.

2. Clean the beaters. In a chilled bowl, beat the whipping cream until it forms soft peaks. Add the remaining sugar, vanilla, and almond extract until it peaks. Don’t overbeat, or the cream might break.

3. Add the mascarpone mixture to the whipped cream and beat it until completely blended. The filling is complete; hold it in the refrigerator.

4. Dissolve the 2 Tbs. sugar into the espresso and creme de cacao plus , 2 Tbs. water to make a syrup.

5. Cover the bottom of a 7 x 9 x 3 inch cake pan with lady fingers. Brush athe cake with the syrup. Using a rubber spatula or a cake-icing knife, spread about a third of the mascarpone cheese mixture over the lady fingers and into the cracks between then. Make another layer of lady fingers, brush with the syrup, and cover with the filling. Then another layer.

6. Sift the cocoa powder over the top of the cake and top with chocolate shavings. Refrigerate for at least two hours. Leave it in the refrigerator until serving.

Serves eight.

Combination Pan Roast @ Pascal’s Manale

Although Pascal’s Manale is most famous for its original barbecue shrimp, its great specialty is oysters. Fine work with our area’s best seafood run from the raw ones in the bar through this dish, one of the most complex of Manale’s concoctions. It started as an all-oyster entree, but evolved into an appetizer with oysters, shrimp, and crabmeat. Holding everything together is a thickened veloute that looks cheesy, but isn’t. It does include a lot of green onions, which makes the dish. Bread crumbs on top, a pass through the oven until it bubbles–then it’s eating time. A very good time, if this is on the table. There’s nothing quite like it in any other restaurant.

Pascal’s Manale. Uptown: 1838 Napoleon Ave. 504-895-4877.

This is among the 500 best dishes in New Orleans area restaurants. Click here for a list of the other 499.

October 13, 2016

Days Until. . .

Halloween 18

Restaurant Milestones

The Bistro at the Maison de Ville opened today in 1986. A minuscule dining room with a microscopic kitchen in a small hotel might not be expected to become a seminal local restaurant, but this one was. The first chef was Susan Spicer. She’d cooked around town for a few years, but she came to prominence at the Bistro. When she left to open Bayona, John Neal took over the Bistro’s kitchen. He left after a few years to to open Peristyle. That established the Bistro as a place to enjoy the works of future chef superstars on their way up. Greg Picolo was the longest-serving chef, remaining at the bistro until a problem with the lease shut it down. Patrick Van Hoorebeck ran the dining room and the wine cellar for along time; he was good enough at that to have opened his own wine bar. The Bistro is now extinct. But its influence lives on.

Music To Blow Out Candles By

Today in 1893, a copyright was issued to Mildred and Patty Hill for the melody of the song everybody sings on birthdays. Its real name is Good Morning To All. It remained under copyright protection for many years until it was declared a public-domain work by the courts. Until then, many big restaurant chains have their own songs for birthdays, to avoid royalties when their waiters sing (usually very badly) to their customers.

The worst rendering of “Happy Birthday” I have heard consistently is performed at Commander’s Palace. The servers botch it up so miserably that I’m convinced they do so intentionally, to keep it from spreading to other tables.

Drinking Through History

Molly Pitcher was born today in 1754, near Trenton, New Jersey. Her real name was Mary Ludwig. Her nickname grew from her job carrying water to the American soldiers fighting in the Revolutionary War. When her husband was wounded, she took over his cannon, and became famous for that deed. What is less known is that she refused to ask the soldiers whether they wanted still bottled water, bottled water with bubbles, or just the tap water.

Food And Cars

Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby starred in a big television special today in 1957, sponsored by the Ford Motor Company. The commercials introduced the Edsel, soon to become the laughingstock of the auto world. Later, it became a classic. Food connection: Richard Collin–the New Orleans Underground Gourmet, the city’s first restaurant critic–owned an Edsel in the 1970s.

Today’s Flavor

Today is National Popover Day. A popover–not to be confused with a turnover–is a tall, muffin-shaped, nearly-hollow bread made with a very eggy batter. You bake them with butter in the pockets of the popover tin. They are best eaten immediately after emerging from the oven. You will eat a popover quickly. Its marvelous flavor, aroma, texture, and hollow middle grab you. The only restaurant in memory to serve them was during the brief hegemony of Tom Cowman in the kitchen of Lenfant’s when the Marcello family ran it, in the 1980s. They brought the popovers to the table when you sat down, and they were irresistible.

Edible Dictionary

jumbo lump crabmeat, n.–The two muscles found near the rear of a blue crab’s body. They move the paddle-like backfins. Because those are the crab’s strongest, these two muscles are the largest in the crab. Jumbo lump is the most desirable and expensive part of the largest crabs, and is carefully picked to keep it whole. By its nature in includes a thin, translucent piece of shell-like material, the absence of which means that the crab was over-picked. Jumbo lump is white and firm. It’s the essential ingredient for the best quality crab cakes, crabmeat ravigote, and crab salads. Just plain lump crabmeat is also white and firm, but smaller. Beware: the phrase “jumbo lump crabmeat” has come to be used in many restaurants to mean “plain old crabmeat.” True jumbo lump is so expensive that many chefs use the name but not the crabmeat. If you ever see a dish that says it’s made with jumbo lump but carries a low price, it is likely not the prime jumbo lump. (Or pasteurized and canned, perhaps from southeast Asia or Venezuela)

Gourmet Gazetteer

Goose Lake is about as far east as you can go in Iowa, seven miles from the state line at the Mississippi River. It’s closer to Chicago (156 miles) than it is to Des Moines (201). It’s a fair-sized farming town of 235 people, surrounding by rolling fields of corn and soybeans to the horizon in all directions. The actual lake for which the town is named is a mile west, and is so shallow that it dries up completely in droughts. It’s more of a marsh than a lake. But this is what geese love, so it’s well-named. O’Brien’s Pizza And Millennium Grill is the place to eat, right in the center of town.

Deft Dining Rule #18:

Unless the goodness of the food and service are of secondary concern, never ask a restaurant for a table for more than eight people. Six is even better. If you have a larger number, divided it in to sixes and eights. At larger tables, the people at opposite ends won’t be able to talk with one another, anyway.

The Old Kitchen Sage Sez

After you cook ground beef or sausage to make a stuffing (i.e., for lasagna or stuffed peppers), use the end slice from a loaf of white bread to soak up the excess fat thrown off by the meat. (Do this after removing from the pan.) The dog will love that piece of bread, too.

Food Namesakes

Pro football star Jerry Rice was born today in 1962. . . Pro baseball pitcher Tim Crabtree hit the Big Mound today in 1969. (I wish crabs grew on trees!). . . British actor Wilfred Pickles was born today in 1904. . . British politician Edwina Currie was born today in 1946. She created a stir when she blew the whistle on English egg producers, noting that their eggs sometimes contained salmonella.

Words To Eat By

“In any world menu, Canada must be considered the vichyssoise of nations—it’s cold, half-French, and difficult to stir.”–J. Stuart Keate, Canadian writer, born today in 1913.

Words To Drink By

“No animal ever invented anything so bad as drunkeness–or so good as drink.”–Lord Chesterton.

One Starbucks Inside Another One.

This is presented as a joke, but it actually happened once, if briefly. If I remember right, there were four Starbucks locations at a single street corner.

Click here for the cartoon.

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