Peter Green
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Posts posted by Peter Green
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I haven't been to Houston in 20 years and didn't much care for it back then, so its great to see the diversity of restaurants. Looking forward to seeing what you eat next.
Rob,
In terms of time frame, we're very much on the same beat.
The 80's were a horrible wasteland.
But I'm really enjoying how the town's grown up. Heck, I hardly got two feet out of the front door of Beaver's tonight before I got into a discussion of restaurants and where to eat with several people.
People like to eat, and they're having a lot more fun with it now.
I really have to get some posts up. Maybe if I snap awake at 4 a.m. again......
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Darn. Reef is booked out tonight (at least until 9:30). Da Marco, too.
I think it'll be Beaver's Ice House.
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I'm doing horribly at keeping this up to date.
And I don't even have the family around to blame.
So, I'll provide a synopsis of events so far (dispelling, I know, the frisson of anticipation of where I'll be next).
However, to keep some fun to it, I'll just stick to dinners.
Tuesday - Cafe Le Jadeite
Wednesday - Oceanaire
Thursday - Cafe Montrose (the Belgian French place)
Friday (tonight) - Tony's
Now, if I can manage to not pass out from jet lag, I'll try to catch up.
Only two more Houston dining nights, but I'll be back here on Feb 1 through 3, so I'm looking for strong recommendations!
Right now, my short list looks like:
- Mark's
- Da Marco
- Sunday Brunch at Hugo's (a chance to do more regional Mexican dishes)
- Truluck's for the crab
- Beavers (I have to try this)
- Reef
- The Breakfast Klub
- Bistro Moderne
- Tony's (there's more to eat there)
I'm notably ignoring
- Japanese (for reasons apparent in two months)
- Thai (nothing comes close to dining in Bangkok, so why bother)
- Chinese (can you buy a good Sichuan peppercorn here?)
- Middle Eastern/Mediterranean (I can eat this everyday)
- Albanian (someone has to start ignoring them!)
Cheers,
Peter
note - edited for dyslexia
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Thanks for sharing with us. I hope you have a good trip.
Also, the mussells and frites at the belgian place rock.
Alright! I'm heading down Westheimer. If nothing shiny distracts me, I'm doing the Belgian.
(beware, I distract easily)
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Day 1 (or a portion thereof)
I won’t bore you (too much) with the details of the flight. Plane trips for me are generally about the wines, rather than the food, and I’m parsing this travelogue up with the drinking over on the dipsophilia site (shameless plug taken care of now), and the eating and general discussion over here.
I will say one thing, though, I was surprised to see pheasant on the menu. The fellow next to myself opened his menu just as I did, and both of use were saying “chicken, chicken, and chicken” when we were surprised to find a more noble fowl there before us.
Okay, it was in a fairly thick sauce, and came over a little cloying, but with a Chilean Carmenere it was a meal worth eating in-flight.
But that was the highlight. I hate travel. I love being places, but the act of getting there leaves me dehydrated, sore, and feeling like I’ve been to an all-night party that ended in a fight, and there wasn’t any fun attached.
Customs and Immigration was quite pleasant (I always expect the worse so if I’m surprised it’s never a problem), the rental was at the car place, and I only got slightly lost getting in from IAH to the Galleria.
There were some things that needed to be done right away (I needed a new video camera), so I shot out Richmond to a place I’d been dealing with through email.
As I motored West, I took in the changes since the last time I was here, the openings and closings. There seemed to be a lot more closings than openings.
But, first, a little history. Some of the things that will be discussed later will be easier with a bit of background covered now.
I’ve been to and from Houston a lot over the last 25 years or so. I’d moved here straight from university, excited in part at the idea of working internationally, and in part just eager to get out of Vancouver, where’d I’d spent the last 22 years of my life.
Yes, I was young and stupid. I left Vancouver for Houston. That’s changed, though. Now I’m not young.
The two and a half years I spent here weren’t my best. I was intent upon saving money, and had targeted getting rid of my student loan first, and then saving enough money for marriage. The first target I managed by living on rice and kimchi for three months (luckily, there was a Korean in my apartment building, and so I didn’t take the blame for the smell), The second I managed, sending back over half my money to Yoonhi as a remittance man, by avoiding unnecessary expenses.
One unnecessary expense in Houston was a car.
So, for the years of 1983 through 1985, I did a lot of walking. You can get to now a place fairly well on foot. That place just better not be very large.
So that was the beginning. I would eat out on occasion with friends from work, but not often, and never extravagant.
I left Houston then, in 1985 for marriage and life overseas (rather than just south of the border). When I next returned, it was more than 10 years later in the late 90’s, and the city, like myself and my friends, had matured.
And when I came back, I had a car, and money. Someone else’s money, which is even better.
Seeing Houston now, and I see it fairly often since 1999, I’ve grown fonder of the place. The freedom of a vehicle changes the map in your head, and places that were terra incognito way back when are now open to investigation.
But those years spent on foot have left a mental map in my head that stretches along a corridor with faint roots in downtown, out Richmond, Alabama, and Westheimer, to the Western boundaries of the Sam Houston Beltway (and it gets pretty faint out there, too).
That is all to set the stage, now let’s return to our regular programming.
When I took that last u-turn to the past, I was heading West on Houston. There were more than a few closings. Billy Blue’s, with the giant saxaphone, seemed to be up for lease. A shame, as it provided a conveniently close spot for music. And there was the Seafood Market all boarded up. I’d been there on occasion for the all-you-can-eat lobster nights. At $39.95, and given the price of lobster and their weights, we’d figured at the time that you really needed to eat at least five or six to get ahead. So we did.
But the Richmond Arms was still there – as incongruous as ever - and Sam’s Boat, which does a fair deal on crawfish, although I have my preferences on where to go for crawfish. There were a few new taquerias along the road, and more and more Mexican Cafes in strip malls. And Joe’s Crab Shack. Yeah, it’s a chain, but their décor always gets a smile out of me.
Westheimer’s got more on it, I know, but there’d always been something fun about Richmond and its sheer garishness. It was the place to go for the all-you-can-eat deals when I was young, cadging out my protein needs with tidbits of grilled chicken and beef, or steamed prawns at the free happy hour buffets while nursing a beer or two that I’d splurged on.
Isn’t it great how the past always looks better when you’re not there anymore?
I came back down Westheimer, and didn’t notice too many changes in the last two years. Truluck’s had moved, their old location taken over by something else. But I gather they’re down by the Galleria now, closer to where I’m staying. Mama’s Café, where I had my first chicken fried steak, is still there, and the rather desultory sushi places are still dotting the strip malls.
Besides memories, Houston is still home to several of my old friends. Common suffering tends to bind people together firmer than good times, and I’ve a few people I still call on regularly.
One of these is Dan. Dan is particularly good for me as he’s (a) very well read, (b) he knows the clubs and restaurants around Houston very well, © he likes to eat and drink well, and (d) he’s willing to drive so that I can pass out at random moments from jet lag.
Dan picked me up around 7, and we headed East down Westheimer for a drive by fooding. This gave us the opportunity to check out the openings and closings along the restaurant row area of lower Westheimer while we tried to decide on a place to eat.
We drove out down Richmond to get inside the Loop, past Luling City BBQ and my old favourite, The Ragin’ Cajun, and saw Tony’s (relatively) new location at Greenway Plaza, close to my old digs. The Velvet Lounge was still in business, but it felt like some other old-timers had passed on.
We headed North up Kirby, and then right on Westheimer. Beso, Sadler’s Latino place, was gone from its location and replaced by an Italian restaurant of some sort (but it looks like they may not be down and out, but just moved, north of I10 near Freed Park, if it’s the same place). I’d liked Beso last time I was here, and remember the head waiter, Diego, who had a sideline selling tropical fish from South America (Diego has moved to Sadler’s other place, Arturo’s – I wasn’t as thrilled with Arturo’s).
We drove by a number of the places Tetsu was recommending (above). Mark’s and Marco’s, both nearby at Dunlavy. We also came across Hugo’s, which Dan recommended as Mexican, rather than Tex-Mex. I don’t mind Tex-Mex, but I’m a lot fonder of good Mexican food, so this was one I noted down. And there was a sign for La Dolca Vita, but we were past it fairly quickly.
And across the street in the ubiquitous Houston strip mall, was a Belgian café. I’m a sucker for Belgian food, so this also was entered as a possible for me.
Indika had been on our list. In a custom built facility past Montrose, it’s trying to bring Indian into the upscale market (in the old days I remember once going with the office crowd to Bombay Palace for the buffet, and everyone passing out asleep in the afternoon later on. Something about the spices…..), but it was a Monday, and Indika was closed, their parking lot gated up.
We looped into downtown, through the Vietnamese sector. Dong Ting (Chinese, though, not Vietnamese) was around here somewhere, and I recall they had a very good clay-pot pork.
And then we were past Sambucca. Which always looks pretty in the evening, but I’ve never been, and from there we were looping around and heading back to Westheimer.
While driving around in a comfortable beemer and talking about food with a friend is a luxury I enjoy, it was getting late, and we really did need to make a decision. My initial reaction had been to go Latino (with Beso in the back of my mind), and Hugo’s reputation with Dan had sealed the matter.
Hugo’s
We handed the keys off to the valet, and went through the drizzle into the restaurant. The setting is beautiful. An old restored home, with tall ceilings, and windows to go with them, giving us a few from the table of the sheen on Westheimer under the streetlights.
For a Monday there was a respectable crowd. They were running around 80% full, with a comfortable buzz to the place. The staff were just busy enough to be in motion all the time, but still could take the moment to answer questions on the menu.
If I had a complaint, it would be that the ambient light, while appropriate for dining, was way to dark to pick out the tiny fonts on the menu. But our waiter spotted my concern before I could even raise the question, and graciously offered me a pen light.
I was in love (with the menu, that is).
As expected, they had a great selection of tequilas and mescals, and I’ve written more about that on the other site. The appetizers and mains had taken me firmly in hand, and I knew this would be a good meal. There were scallops, and lamb, and goat in banana leaf, and moles and octopus…..
I ordered a pomegranate marguerita, as it was going off the menu that evening, and Dan had the blueberry mojito, as it was just coming on.
My life is deprived, you know. I’ve never really been to Mexico (I don’t count Tiajuana). Yoonhi, however, spent several months there with the family of a good friend back in the 80’s, and she’s always talked of the meals she had in Mexico City. This menu covered a good selection of the things she’s tormented me with.
The only problem was that our appetites were lagging (as were my eyelids). Still, we could manage to split an appetizer before settling into mains.
And it was the perfect appetizer. Grasshoppers. I enjoy a good bug, and I hadn’t had grasshoppers since Laos. These came out slightly caramelized, rather than deep fried crispy, and were served with tortillas, sour cream, and guacamole. A slather of guacamole to hold the bugs in place, and then some hot sauce to perk things up.
It’s a good match, as the grasshoppers come across slightly caramelized, with that broken glass texture. The tortilla and the gauc take the edge off of that. As another note on this dish, the antennae and short legs had come away in the cooking, so you don’t have to worry about that common South East Asian indiscretion of being caught with legs stuck between your teeth.
I was torn between their lamb – a barbacao, marinated then slow roasted in banana leaves - and the scallops. I finally went with the scallops, as I can’t get these back home, whereas I can always experiment with lamb.
The scallops (Callo de Acha) were a good size, and the sear had penetrated far enough that the meat was just right at the centre. This came on a bed of cornbread (with some good kernels still in there), with a solid sauce of roasted chilis and cream.
Dan had got my goat (the cabrito), so I was covered on that front (I am notorious for stealing from other’s plates – call me crass, I’ve been called worse).
This was very, very soft when we opened the banana wrapper, and carried a great, not-quite-gamey flavour. It also came with marinated cactus, which had a great texture, a crispier step up from roasted capsicums, and almost Korean in the taste.
And, heck, I even liked their refried beans, worked down into a very dark, chocolate coloured mashy paste.
I’d finished the pomegranate marguerita, so I took a Paloma on the waiter’s recommendation. Grapefruit soda and tequila, a good palate cleanser.
When the mains were over, Dan went for the chocolate and date cake. A flourless approach, and rich and solid enough the my dramatic companion was whacking his hand on the table in approval.
Yes, he did like it.
I’m not a dessert guy, per se. I was enjoying an anejo – an Herraduro. I’m fond of aged tequilas, ever since my first Tres Generaciones back in the mid-80’s (Yoonhi’s gift to me from her Mexican sojourn). But I did try a bite of the cake, and it was good, I must admit. And the Mexican vanilla ice cream that came with it had me yearning for my own ice cream maker back home so I could give this a try.
And on that happy note, it was time to head home.
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Hugo's was a pretty good choice - here's some other ones (if you're really looking to work that account)
Da Marco on Westheimer (not too far from Hugo's)
Dolce Vita on Westheimer (again, not too far)
Mark's on Westheimer (mixed reviews lately, but many seem to enjoy it) The same goes for Tony's in Greenway Plaza.
Nippon on Montrose, as long as you ask for the Japanese menu and/or order the omakase
Brasserie Max and Julie on Montrose and Richmond for quality renditions of classic bistro fare.
For some reason, anytime someone comes to Texas, they always have to have steak. Vic and Anthony's is a good choice. Actually, the best steak I've had in Houston was recently at Del Frisco's double eagle, but the service was atrocious. So if you can bear bad service, the steaks are really good and they're really good about cooking it to temperature.
Farther away there's REEF in midtown, 17 in downtown, and Catalan on Washington Ave. I went to Catalan a few weeks ago, and while there's still nothing Catalonian about it, the kitchen's churning out really, really solid food.
Then of course there's things such as Himalaya for Pakistani food or one of your several taquerias, but that won't exactly dent an expense account.
I look forward to your reviews.
Thanks, Tetsu!
DaMarco and Mark's were both pointed out to me by one of my friends here, as was Dolce Vita and Tony's. And while he hadn't done Reef, he said it sounded interesting.
Catalan sounds like something I'll hit up, and I've got my eye on the Belgian place across the street from Hugo's (I'm a sucker for the Belgians).
There are people here with me, so I'll probably end up having to go for a steak, like you say, while I'm in Houston. Del Frisco's is an option there, but I'll try to postpone that.
I'm thinking I should do Beavers, given the coverage given to Pope and to the cocktails at the new place.
What's the take on Cafe Annie nowadays? I'd heard they were redoing it recently?
And, of course, it's not all about the expense account. I know it's a sin, but I can still go for an inexpensive bite or three.
Cheers,
Peter
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I'll get this started, and then I must dash.
This is the first full day in the United States of America.
I have arrived in Houston with the intent of spending my expense account wisely.
At least that's my intent.
Last night was dinner at Hugo's which I'll post shortly, which I was able to stay awake through. Today has been a variety of tasks - which involved more pictures of food and a brown paper bag of tequila - and now I must away to dinner at Cafe Jadeite (I think that's the name).
More pictures and proper details soon.
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Tupac,
One of my old favourites was Likhit Gai Yang beside the Rachadamnoern Muay Thai stadium. They burnt down a couple of years back, but I heard they rebuilt. If you're doing the fights, it's a good stop. Just remember, ask first. They switch nights between Racha and Lumpini.
Lumpini stadium has some good eats outside when the bouts are going on, too.
Cheers,
Peter
When we were kids in Bangkok back in the 60's, Likhit was one of the first restaurants my dad took us to. I still remember the hordes of mangy cats underfoot and thinking that they were what was on the plate.
One of my fondest memories is of watching the old granny that tended the gai yang (grilled chicken) chewing up food and spitting it into the dog's mouth.
I think she may have passed away.
Great chicken, and some outstanding yams. The fighters (that lost) drowning their sorrows in maekhong, regency, or whatever else was on hand. And the crab in clay pot with vermicelli was excellent. And the oyster salad, and the raw prawns in nam pla.....
I'm hungry again.
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Tupac,
One of my old favourites was Likhit Gai Yang beside the Rachadamnoern Muay Thai stadium. They burnt down a couple of years back, but I heard they rebuilt. If you're doing the fights, it's a good stop. Just remember, ask first. They switch nights between Racha and Lumpini.
Lumpini stadium has some good eats outside when the bouts are going on, too.
Cheers,
Peter
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Peter, as our Sukhumvit expert, are you familiar with this place:
http://www.bangkokpost.com/110108_Realtime...008_real012.php
I read that article on the New Srifa last weekend, and was interested. BK Magazine also gave it a review and spoke well, and I trust their write-ups more than most.
I checked out the web site, too.... www.newsrifa33.com .... it is pretty spiff (although I gave up on waiting for the intro to load). Blog, history (didn't load right), and plenty of menu items in English and Thai (so you can practice your reading).
The BK piece noted that this was a new trend of old khao tom shops recreating themselves. Sino-Thai, the food can be excellent, and this'll be fun to see more of.
Now, if I can just get down soi 33 (The Dead Artists) without getting distracted......
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Another interesting option in the budget range is the Atlanta. It's down Sukhumvit Soi 2 (almost down to the Tobacco Monopoly). I haven't stayed there, myself, but I checked it out a couple of years back as I'd heard so much about the art deco lobby and its history.
The rooms are "basic" and don't live up to the lobby, but the place is a good deal, and reputable. They keep the rest of lower Sukhumvit out of the premises.
The only down side is this is going to be a little bit of a hike back up the soi to the Nana BTS, and there's nowhere great to eat down the soi (one okay Italian place, but that's not what you're there for).
For neighborhoods for eating, though, I'd say move back up Sukhumvit towards Asoke and beyond. Otherwise, the Silom has a lot to offer, too, and you'd be tied into the BTS there, as well.
The Giant Swing area that Import Food has the guide for is great eating, but you are sort of stuck out there. The same goes for Yaowarat, although the underground will get you to Hualampong.
Now I've got to go and start studying your Tokyo writeups!
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I had a memorable meal at Jade On 36 at the Shangrila. If you're up for a splurge (or you're spending someone else's money - one of my favourite hobbies) it makes for a good evening.
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Dear Mr. Hayward,
Thank you very much for your fine (and succinct) work in overviewing the Hangover, and bringing us to a counterpoint where we can relish it's purpose in our lives.
I've enjoyed the piece on par with Amis' Money, of years gone by.
Cheers,
Peter
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Ah, there's nothing like bookcase after bookcase of books to warm my heart.
Please, though, intersperse as you have shots of Dubai! I'd love to hear the counterpoints you can play from the two cultures.
Cheers, Merry Christmas, and a Happy 'Id!
Peter
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I don't really see any problem with Asian chefs introducing "Western" ingredients into their cuisine.
Obviously, buddechiggae is one of the classics, with hot dogs and processed cheese, while tuna and cheese ramen (for the late night drinking crowd) is also right up there.
But the introduction of dairy products into East Asian cuisine has been going on as long as the Mongols have been going tourist on horseback. More recently, the popularity of ice cream in China (and elsewhere) has led to a striking rise in the cost of milk in North America as powder milk has become a major export item. ( I have shots of windrows of ice cream wrappers in Xi'an this last Spring, and I still remember the Hmong spitting out those same wrappers after a good day in the market in Sapa back in the 90's).
Why be outraged at such matters? I mess around with curries and bonito stocks in my kitchen. Why can't my friends in Korea, Japan, or China likewise discover the joys of Velveeta?
I like the idea of blueberries.
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If you know it's going to be recooked, then undercook the pasta, keep a tight lid, and stir when recooking to emulsify.
The cheese will make a difference, as the fat content will matter. If you're using just cheddar, it may separate more.
Try with a mix of mozza, cheddar, and blue, to balance things out.
(all of which is quoted from Yoonhi, as I'm useless in these things).
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We've been following Santa's progress on www.noradsanta.com (he's in India now), and Serena has hauled out a small table by the tree and prepped it with cookies and milk.
For Santa, we're putting out two pinwheel cookies, two golf ball chocolates, and one chocolate truffle, that Yoonhi made.
We have a zip loc of apples for the reindeer, and glass of milk, with two ice cubes in it so it'll keep until he gets here.
What're you guys putting out for the Seasonal Visitor?
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Ice cream! You gotta have ice cream! (Lifted from an old Bill Cosby routine on tonsilitis).
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The geolpengi look like escargot, with a similar shell (that's what we think). We had them a number of times. Rubbery, chewy, and Yoonhi always associates them with tins. I remember winkling them out with a safety pin, and then having to chew around the hard plate protecting the outer base of the body.
I gotta admit, I prefer escargot.
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Maybe it really is rabbit pellets?
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I'm fond of the Ragin' Cajun on Richmond, just inside the 610 Loop. I always get in there for crawfish and boudin when I pass through.
I don't know if it still qualifies on the cheap eats section, but they've stapled a lean-to on the side where you get waitered service as opposed to the line-up and haul your stuff back mode in the main room.
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Here's the promised shot. The stuff in the lower left is the mystery tea, and I've put some boricha (barley tea) on the plate above to contrast it.
This stuff gives an extremely dark tea, much darker than that golden brown you get from bori and ochuzu. Yoonhi's not particularly fond of this flavour.
The seeds look like a cross between bird seed and really, really tiny rabbit droppings.
Sheena, what's your mom think?
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Alright, when it's daylight over here tomorrow, I'll drag the stuff out and get a shot posted.
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Adjima-calling is reserved usually for pushy, big(as in not thin), older women with their short curly hairdo. LOL
Don't forget the brightly coloured stretch pants!
Permed hair and elastic waists are the trademarks!(uh oh, I think something's about to be thrown at me)
Noted: edited for an apostrophe. (with apologies to the late Frank Zappa)
Travelogue: the Americas (part 1)
in Texas: Dining
Posted
January 22
There are things I like to wake up to. Things that make me happy.
One of these things is biscuits and gravy.
Give me a simple plate with a biscuit buried under a good glop of white gravy. This was not the best I’ve ever had (by far), but with this dish it doesn’t have to be. Heck, it’s just flour and milk with some ground sausage in it (if you’re lucky), but it has a stick-to-it feel that’s best described as something you’d normally try to clear out of your lungs.
This was one of my luxuries when I first lived here. I’d stop in at the diner across from work once a month and splurge on a breakfast of biscuit, bacon, toast, and huevos. Even if I don’t normally eat first thing in the morning(drink is another matter) I had to change my schedule for this, my first breakfast.
I was ready for the day.
Plus ca change
Like the biscuits, there were things that just needed to be done.
I’ve made a point over the years, each time I get back to Houston, to get into the Ragin Cajun at least once (and more if I can arrange it). I was taken here back in ’83, and was immediately charmed by the stylish décor, thoughtful service, and innovative cuisine.
Okay, okay. It was a canteen with Louisiana memorabilia stapled and blue-tacked to the walls, and wooden picnic tables out front and in the dining area. You had to order your food at the counter, and they’d yell out when it was ready for you.
But they were serving stuff I’d never eaten before, and it wasn’t expensive.
That’s always a good combination for me.
This place goes back a ways, back to the early 70’s, which is nigh primordial in this town. It started off as Ray Hay’s, and was owned by the Mandola brothers and Ray Hay. Luke Mandola bought his partners out, renamed the joint the Ragin’ Cajun, and picked up another partner along the way. At some point they nailed a wooden lean-to onto the cinder block sides and provided full service at the tables. Later on they added three other locations, around town, but I can’t say much about them, as I stick with the original.
Last November, Luke and his two sons (Luke and Dominic) bought out the partner, and have been making a few changes.
I hate it when people make changes.
But, I must admit, I was hard pressed to see them. The old place still looked good, the main room still the cafeteria style I was used to, and the oyster bar/full service areas just as plush as I remembered. They may have given the place a face-lift, but not such a drastic one that it would get old people like me riled up.
Now, as much as I like trying the new, I am a creature of habit. Going on the assumption that a meteor may fall from the sky and render me incapable of further dining, there are certain things I need to eat.
One of these things is boudin, the Cajun version of the French sausage (more properly known as boudin blanc). A good stretch of intestine stuffed with a mix of rice (as opposed to milk), pig parts (it’s not all meat), and whatever seasonings the chef feels like throwing in there. The rice is in there to stretch the meat, so the texture can feel more like a Korean soondae. There’s no blood, though, (alas) so it stands in contrast to the boudin noir.
It was hot on the table, with some fine pickles and some raw onion to help freshen my breath. The intestine put up a bit of a fight as I cut through it, but the stuffing squeezed out obligingly under the pressure.
Given that I can’t get fresh oysters back home, a dozen raw seemed like a good idea. I wouldn’t say these are my favourites, as they’re lack the delicate meatiness I prefer. These are a bit larger, flabbier, sort of the trailer park equivalent, but they were nice and salty, and went well with a bit of horseradish. I won’t complain.
And they went well with the beer, a Blue Moon Belgian style white that was on the menu. The bar is one place where there’s been some revamping, with a few tastier brews finding their way in there along with the Buds and Michelobs.
Now, you don’t come here and not have crawfish. I know my limits, so I ordered a small bucket, which comes with one piece of corn and one potato. The corn in particular is something I love. It picks up all the flavours from the boil. The potato is a sideline, as I never feel it does a very good job of picking up the tastes.
I still ate it, of course.
There are a number of reasons to eat crawfish.
1. They taste good
2. They come in impressively large containers (buckets are good) and give you the impression that you’re accomplishing something in your life as you work through the volume and leave a considerable pile of the dead on the newspaper.
3. The act of eating a crawfish is specifically designed to slow you down, and let you savour what you’re eating.
4. The spice slowly builds up over this extended eating time, and gives you a very good burn by the time you’re reaching the end.
5. The slow rate of consumption allows your body’s appetite to adjust, and so you’ll eat appropriate amounts, rather than gorging. This will lead to a sleaker, slimmer profile. Just look at me!
Okay, scratch number 5 but I still think there’s something in that argument.
The drinks menu was big on varieties of martinis, hurricanes, and marguerites. But they listed just one bloody mary – the Cajun. This intrigued me. I called the waitress over (who, along with Tomas, also ran the bar), and asked her what made a Cajun bloody mary.
The Mandolas are infusing their vodkas now. Peppers, capsicum, onions, most of the Cajun spices you’d expect. This is a short 24 hour job, but the taste gets into the mix quite welll. The drink itsel has the usuals, but is also complimented by some olive juice.
I take the view that fire is fought by counter fire, so I had one of these to battle the burn from the crawfish that had taken over my mouth in the last forty minutes or so. That worked.
As I ate and drank I enjoyed the ambience. Plates of red beans and rice going by, business men with their ties tossed back over their shoulders taking their gumbo and cracking through crawfish. And there’s the loudspeaker calling the faithful to their food out in the main room.
I was extremely tempted to try their infused vodka in a martini, but, given that I still had some driving to be done, I held at my limit.
I dropped in next door. The liquor store is also owned by the Mandolas. I’m not sure how many things they have their hands on now. It’s a big family.
Anyways, I picked up a bottle of Tres Generacianes anejo. I still had the taste for tequila from the night before, and this is going to be a long trip, so I should be able to do justice to the bottle.
But, there was still stuff to get done before dinner.
Next: After getting stuff done