Mayhaw Man

I don't see any reason at all that you need to tell everyone about it. I happen to like fat. Like you were planning on making some soap or something. Sheesh.

This is the notice that went out to employees at the NYT this morning: Memo from New York Times executive editor Bill Keller Colleagues, I'm deeply saddened to report that Johnny Apple -- the great Johnny Apple -- died overnight. As many of you know, he had been engaged in a long struggle with thoracic cancer, a bout that gave Applesque luster to the word "valiant." From his sickbed he hammered out his last words to readers (see last Sunday's Travel section), negotiated details of the menu and music for his memorial service, followed the baseball playoffs and the latest congressional scandal with relish, and cheered up the friends who came by the cheer him up. He was himself to the last. Johnny leaves behind bereft legions of friends, colleagues, proteges and imitators, admiring competitors and grateful readers, and his beloved Betsey. He leaves, too, a hole in the heart of the paper he adored, and an empty place at countless tables. Betsey says there will be a whale of a memorial service, probably in a couple of months. We'll pass along information as it becomes available. Those who want reminding of a life lived to the fullest should read Todd Purdum's wonderful obit. We'll have it up on the website before long. Bill

Brooks, I believe this is the piece: TP: Apple's New Orleans ← Exactly. Clearly you understand the inner workings of the unbelievably awful Picayune website. Thanks for that. It's a really good read.

I'm very sorry to hear this. I'll never forget standing on the steps in Oxford, MS discussing, for a very long time, the situation in New Orleans. This was just a month and a half or so after Katrina and he was full of interesting observations but more importantly, he was full of questions that he took the time and the trouble to hear the answers to. Believe me, at that point, not a one of us on those steps had a short answer to anything. Few would listen, and even fewer would accurately portray our point of view- he did, however, and we all appreciated him taking the time to listen and retell our stories accurately. He had a career that anyone would be proud of (wars, pestilence, politics, lunch, dinner, dessert-he could do it all). And, to the very end, he had Betsey. That was, it was very clear to anyone that knew him at all, the most important thing in his mind. The rest, well, it took second place. I am trying to access it, because I believe that it would be fitting here, but Brett Anderson wrote a beautiful piece earlier in the year on Apple in New Orleans. I hope that I can post it here as it was a lovely tribute to a vital and interesting guy. Apple covered alot of ground-literally. Happy Trails, Johnny...

Green tomatoes will never get any better use than this I like to zip it up a bit with peppers of some sort, but you can do that as you jar the stuff, and have some hot, and some not.

Kraft Jalapeno Cheese It's just not the same making Spinach Madeline, that Louisiana holiday staple, without it. And you say that you wouldn't eat that? Well, you don't know what you are missing, bub.

I usually keep mine full of toe cheese.

Make your reservations now. Commander's Palace opens up this Sunday, October 1, for brunch and will be open from there on out on their old schedule (dinner every night, lunch Monday through Friday, and brunch on Sat. and Sun.). Welcome back.

This, my friend, is where you and I disagree. Just as long as you agree that it's only for the money. That's a principle that I can respect.

So you'd choose a slice of pie over a slice of cake with fondant? ← That would, of course, depend on the pie, but, for the sake of argument, damn right I would. On the other hand, as referenced in the other important thread, if the fondant-which, in my opinion, makes not such a bad version of portable, moldable tupperware-was easy to peel back, I would probably go for the cake if it was of such quality that peeling and discarding the covering was worth the trouble. The thing is, as I have opined before, that if the baker is going to all of the trouble to make a fabulous wedding cake (and it is called a CAKE-those things covered in fondant would better be called WEDDING DECORATIONS) why cover it with plastic goo? Just let the moist delicious confection stand free in all it's glory. Of course, milage may vary with driving habits and conditions. Your experience may differ.

I think that it tastes like, well, umm, urrgghh, well... I am against it in all of it's unatural forms and flavors. Totally against it. Really. All the way against Fondant. Count me in the anti fondant camp.

Sometimes I use my wooden meat hammer to smash the occasional roach. Those little devils go every-which-away when you get a good, solid direct hit (kinda like Gallagher with those watermelons, only better!). Though, when I get excited and use the waffle side of the hammer, it's not nearly as much fun. Kind of anticlimactic, really, and much harder to wipe off of the hammer.

I have happily been able to cook in the unbelievably well equipped Viking Kitchens in Greenwood, MS a couple of times and use most of their fine line of appliances. They are all, really, pretty danged skippy. That blender, the food processer and the mixer are all well worth the money. In one case I was cooking with a couple of well known chefs and one of them walked into the conveniently located kitchen store next door and bought two of the blenders. She loved them. Still does, apparently.

You should make bread pudding for dessert. Hell, make Mrs. Chase's. It's dead simple, cheap to make, and delicious. Bread Pudding ala Dooky Chase

It's funny how things work out sometimes. I was doing a google search a minute ago for "New York Christmas Eve Restaurants" and came across this thread. I haven't read any of this in over a year for a number of reasons, primarily because after a year of disaster, death, disheartenment, displacement, divorce, and close to financial ruin (though, in fairness, some really great things have happened to me besides all of this awfulness) I just don't like to go back and read my post storm diatribes-here on eGullet or anywhere else that they were appearing last September. But, as I ran across it and saw my name in the threads, I went back and read the comments-both my own and the ones that followed. What struck me as I read (aside from thought of my own deadly accurate portrayal of what would probably be (and turned out to be) one of the biggest stoppers in getting this place on it's feet) this was how practical my comments were. Not too much emotion, just kind of reporting on things as I saw them. It seems like so long ago. I can't do that anymore-even when I get paid to do it (and happily that's more and more these days)-I, and almost everyone else writing from this base-has become unable to take a dispassionate, practical view of things. It hurts too much and we are all too emotionally involved. It's too big of a mess and apparently too big of a job. I live in what is, and will remain, one of the most interesting places on Earth and certainly one of the most interesting places in North America. We aren't like you. We know that. Even now, with all of this mess and all of our many uninformed but highly vocal critics watching our every move, well, we're still not like you. We are still, right now, looking for a bright side, a colorful side, a tasty side of this thing and when we occasionally find it we take an amount of joy in that find that many, many-most-people just can't quite understand. How many towns do you regularly hear phrases like, "I went to a GREAT funeral the other day!" ? It's like that here. We're looking for the fun even when someone is ten toes up on their way to the cremation station (hat tip to Mac). How many towns have restaurants that, by hook or by crook, manage to open up, literally, while much of the city is underwater while those same operators are busy for many hours of the day cooking tens of thousands of meals for rescue and recovery workers? Not many. Maybe, probably, not any (which is a damned good thing-no one here would wish any of this on their worst enemy). We aren't like you. That's worked against us in many ways and we know that. Contrary to what many of you might think, one of the things that we are not is stupid. We live here, in many cases famously below sea level, because this is where our families and our friends are and in almost as many cases, because we can't imagine, or don't want to imagine, living anywhere else. We live here because we can still get better oysters and fish fresher and cheaper than you can, because we have a pretty good shot, on any given day, of having live music come by our house in the form of a celebratory parade or, oddly to many of you, a celebratory funeral. We live somewhere that, even though it's clearly an unprecedented mess brought on by a storm, a failure of the levees, and a failure of local, state, and national leaders, is still, in our mind anyway, better than where you live. We're proud of the place inspite of what we all know are many, many deep seeded and historical problems that are going to take years to overcome-if they can be at all. We live here-LIVE being the active word in that phrase. My friend, Keith Keller, aka Fred Flames, used to say that we live in a place with a very high quality of life and a very low standard of living. He was right, God rest his soul (Fred died last week of a heart attack brought on by the stress of renovating his property), and now we are faced with many choices that we probably would not have ever been faced with were it now for the storm and the levee failures. I hope that we, our leaders and us as individuals, make the right ones. It's too late to make many more mistakes. As this is about Commander's Palace, I will say that they are working on it. It was damaged far more badly than anyone in this thread realized last November and has basically had to be completely rebuilt (though that is not an entirely bad thing-it was about time). The word is that it will reopen on Saturday, September 30th. I think that's still true as I write this. It will be very good to have them back. There is a dearth of cheap Martinis and bread pudding souffle in this town and it will be good to finally have enough of both available at all times. Come see us. Have some fun. Go home and tell your friends-tell them that you can have some fun here and eat some great food here-also tell them that there is much work that needs to be done and those people down there in New Orleans, they really know how to treat volunteers. Bring your Sunday go to meeting clothes and go get a good meal at August, or Emerils, or Bayona, or Herbsaint-then get up in the morning and put on some clothes that you have no intention of ever being able to wear again and go help one of the organizations gutting houses. You won't ever forget either experience, but I'll bet you money that the memory of that house you tear apart will stay with you longer than John Besh's Gnocchi and Truffles. The truffles are good, but the help, the labor, is infinitely better. Ask anyone who has had both-including Besh.

They're open for lunch and dinner starting now-right now-(though not for dinner tomorrow night-so, well, let's say just generally open for lunch and dinner). I'm happy for them. Go eat there. It's a nice place with good food run by really nice folks.

I'm certain that there is, absolutely, some kind of penalty for this behavior. Eating this kind of thing is one thing, but bragging about it and encouraging others to emulate it, well, that's a horse of a different color. I think, from here on out, you should just stick to butts. You can keep defiling your food in the way that you seem so cheery about, just keep your curtains drawn and don't discuss it with the neighbors-much in the same manner that you would hide a wanted fugitive from the prying eyes of the neighbors and the long arm of the law. Thanks ← Whatever, Brooks. And, I'm going to swim in the lake on Wednesday night. The temp of the water is in the low 50's, but I'll be there, on my back in the silky smoothness of Up North Water. And, there will be fireflies. We will be fortified with beverages (!) and some noshes on the dock. And, I'm hoping to lime a bit of my gumbo when I next eat it! Sort of gumbo meets Khao Soi. ← Lime wedges and cilantro in gumbo? Swimming in 50 degree water? What are we to do with these yankees, Brooks? ← I bring to the table yet another horrow. It was cool and drizzley the other night, so I fetched a container of gumbo out of the freezer. As we sat eating it under the lights of the dining room, Paul (he reall is a dear, but remember, he was raised on Lutheran MN meals -- cream of whatever, scalloped potatoes with ham -- add cream of whatever soup as the glue -- and jello salads, so forgive him) said "I think you should have added canned mushrooms. ← While you're at it, why don't you add some cream of celery soup and a little Kraft Jalapeno Cheese Roll-that will really perk things up? Sheesh, you guys just ain't right. I give lessons, you know-soon, you too could be a proud, downtrodden, adopted son or daughter of our not so fair but exotic as hell land.

Just for the record, I was assisted by my new apprentice, John Currence (aka Johnny Snack). It's going to take him a while, but I believe that he will eventually be able to operate an oyster knife without close supervision.

It all kind of depends on how it goes this weekend and early next week during mock service, but it's likely the doors will open for good on Monday after next. Breakfast will commence sometime in about a month. It was great meeting so many folks that I only knew online. And, though I have famously made fun of tiny little East Coast Oysters, I am now all about the Raspberry points. They're really good.

A bit of Scotch House news and a letter from John Currence, one of my personal heroes, a good friend, and someone who regularly tries to shoot me with a framing nailer (though he is, happily for me, a very bad shot). The Gulf Coast Rennaisance Foundation has been working diligently to complete this project and move on to the next. Thanks to everyone who has helped in any way. It's been a year today since "the thing" and, sadly, many parts of New Orleans, though a bit drier (and I mean a bit-we are actually leaking more water out of pipes than people are being billed for), it's still largely not something that anyone would want to look at for very long. I know that even us, the people who live here, don't like looking at it so why would you? Enough of that-we are moving forward. That's what counts. Here's your update from Johnny Snacks (you'll have to ask Elvis Costello where that name came from-he's the one that made it up). (reprinted here with permission from the Southern Foodways Alliance) Sunday, August 28, 2006 By John Currence From the reports of the brave few who took turns laying in the insulation this weekend: The attic of Willie Mae's gets up to around 110-120 degrees up there, so anyone who has anything they need to keep warm... Yes, I said it... insulation... I realized on the way home from New Orleans last night that we had not done a terribly thorough job of keeping everyone in the loop about what was happening on the corner of North Tonti and St. Ann, much less have we thanked the countless souls who have given up their weekends, spare change, and hearts to the project. This first installment from the front line will hopefully begin to make up for those two shortcomings, though I am reluctant to thank individuals at the risk of insulting those who I will invariably fail to mention. Spring: The first five weekends of the Willie Mae project saw about two-thirds of the demolition completed. When we closed the doors at the end of that first push, hopes were dim as the reality we were facing a gigantic fundraising effort set in. Over the course of the spring and early summer a series of big weekends were organized. The rest of the interior demolition was completed, wiring and plumbing were removed, and by April the structure was little more than a very fragile shell. Remaining doors and windows were falling apart. The bottom four feet of the building were still only covered by the roof felt we had used to wrap the building and cover the wall studs. The original weather board had been removed and a couple of large sections of the exterior walls were exposed. The building was nothing but studs, 80% of its original siding, and a roof. We spent a significant amount of time during these first few months treading water waiting for a couple of groups promising boat loads of cash for Willie Mae. Like the rest of the city, we found that many funding avenues were dead ends and we worked almost exclusively using funds from individual donations. Summer: Starting Easter weekend (which I recognize is not technically Summer, but cut me a little slack... I'm nothing short of scrambled right now) the rebuilding began. An impressive shot of new blood from Birmingham and a couple of regular faces from Nashville descended on New Orleans with a smattering of others, and new wood started to hang. New weather board went up on the outside, inside framing was reinforced, ceiling joists went up on the house side of the building, and a fresh coat of paint went up on the new siding. The James Beard Foundation, after a healthy dose of lobbying, made a healthy donation of money raised in conjunction with the Beard Awards. We were back in the hunt. Several weeks later (Memorial Day Weekend) another group came to town and the rough work on the interior continued. The exterior wall in the kitchen area of the house was reframed and new windows were installed. The dividing wall between the house and restaurant was completed, and the ceiling structure was completed on the house side. On the Fourth of July we pushed our luck and called for volunteers on a vacation once again. The rough-in on the drain work had been laid, and fresh concrete poured throughout two-thirds of the restaurant side. The heavy part of the interior framing could begin. With the strong-backed crews from Birmingham and Nashville, and one ponytailed scalawag from the Lower Garden District, the bathrooms and kitchen on the restaurant side took shape and real forward progress was visible for the first time. In the time since, smaller groups have helped do some detail work with the framing and siding of the building, and the professionals have swept in. A mechanical group has installed the central air and heat and the electricians are about 90% finished with the wiring. This past weekend the most heroic group of volunteers arrived ready to help. Thanks to a glowing piece in the Times Picayune by Brett Anderson, a group showed up on Saturday (a blisteringly hot Saturday... and I grew up in the Crescent City, so I know how hot they can be) to hang the donated insulation that the Egerton Clan trucked down two weeks ago. These guys (the Egertons and the group who showed up this weekend) all deserve to be bronzed for their efforts. As of Sunday afternoon, the exterior walls were all draped with fiberglass, and the attic floor was covered in an itchy pink carpet. (Side note: for those of you who have not been down, insulation is a novel concept for this particular building...there was not a lick of it in the walls heretofore.) The interior is completely finished forgive one short wall section, pending the plumbers' completion, and the outside of the building needs only a touch up here and there to replace worn siding. Donations have continued to come in a number of different forms. A lumber company donated a load of plywood which we did not have a use for, and a friend who owns an Ace hardware swapped the ply for electrical supplies to help with the wiring costs. John Besh has remained at the ready, so we remain the most well fed work crew in the recovery effort, hands down. Through a tremendous network of friends who are handy with typewriters, we have gotten more than our share of ink and the checks have continued to come in, helping us limp along. Willie Mae remains in good spirits. She could not be more grateful to everyone who has helped and, as always, wants nothing more than to get back in the kitchen and get back to work. She is still up the street with her friend Hazel, and she's never without a smile on her face. She looks forward to making the trip to Oxford in October for the symposium, and seeing everyone who makes it down. Hopefully, on next report, drywall will be going up and a real time line for opening will be available. Also, there is a big deal fundraiser in DC next week to raise money for the project. It will be held at the new Johnny's Half Shell on Capitol Hill (formerlyLaColline, in the bottom of the building that improbably holds both the Teamsters and Fox News-odd bedfellows if ever there were any). Details will, of course, be appropriately listed in the events calender and I should have them there shortly. I hope that some of you DC folks can make it. As an added bonus, you can get freshly shucked oysters shucked by my very own hands (though I am sure that they will be some kind of namby pamby East Coast oysters as Ann doesn't bring in LA oysters until the Fall months-that's our Fall, not yours). One of my many talents is being an Ace Oyster Shucker-though I am schooled on the large and delicious Gulf Oysters and not the tiny and strange oysters that come from foreign and exotic lands like Maine and Oregon Anyway, I hope to see you there. You'll be helping out a good cause and you can pretty much be guaranteed a great bunch of stuff to snack on.

I would make it August if you can't go to the Longbranch. You can't go wrong. Get the Gnocchi. In fact, just get it as an entree. Really. Don't fail. The game will be in the Dome. All home games will be in the Dome, which is a shame, because Tulane had actually begun drawing a crowd out at City Park and the Homecoming game two years ago actually felt like a real game. There were tons of tailgaters-I went to a party with some of my dad's (A&S 55) buddies. One of them, a big deal attorney in New Orleans (come to think of it, they're all big deal attorneys) had a huge tented buffet and served different menus before and after the game. Patti Constantin, she of the long gone, but really great, Constantin's on Oak St, catered the deal with my friend Claire. The food was swell and everyone got very attractive and useful green bowlers from Meyer the Hatter. And, to keep this completely on track, it's more fun to tailgate than to eat dogs and drink Dome Foam.

Clearly, you haven't ever heard him sing. It will pretty quickly put you off of your feed.

Well? Huh? How was it?

I am seriously fired up about dinner tonight. There is so much of this place that's really messed up, but, happily, Mosca's is back in action. First stop: Walgreen's for a major league bottle of Pepto Bismol. The perfect finish to a meal at Mosca's.

It's true. I have no idea how timely delivery will be, but this is supposedly the case.