Confessions of a Caterer: oysters

If you’ve got to drive 279.7 miles to pick up a relative in a distant airport, it might as well be your much-loved sister in New Orleans. That was my task on Monday, September 5th. I started out barreling west, directly into the very blowy path of Tropical Storm Lee. That and the hour-long traffic jam just east of the Mobile tunnel had me arriving at Louis Armstrong International Airport ninety minutes late to pick up my sister, Susan.

We’d had plans to dine at August. We’d had lunch there before, a couple of years ago, a lunch so lovely that we couldn’t find our way afterward to the airport to send her back home, so she had to reschedule her flight and spend the night. I’d told a friend that dinner at August was the plan, and she’s such a good friend that she suggested we dine instead at Emeril’s, where she could absolutely hook us up. Three days notice was all she needed.

But miss August, Chef John Besh, amazing August?

“I know,” she said, pounding on the table “have appetizers at August then your entrée and dessert at Emeril’s!”

There was nothing not to like about this plan; it was bold, self-indulgent and culinarily luxurious, everything I love about New Orleans.

Unfortunately, Lee and
Mobile traffic dashed our
hopes for making the August reservation,
which left us to drink
bubbly (delivered to
our room gratis as
part of the French
Quarter Fling Package)
from our balcony
overlooking Bourbon
Street.
We had no trouble at
all making our 9:30 p.m.
reservation at Emeril’s.

Susan was quick to tell the sommelier that we couldn’t possibly have the $240.00 bottle of whatever it was he suggested that might work well with both the steak and the duck, but she wasn’t nearly as steadfast when it came to the $130.00 bottle of Pinot Noir.

Thai BBQ Lamb Ribs with Crunchy Asian Pear Slaw, Toasted Peanuts, and Sesame

“Cowboy” Ribeye with Crisp Vidalia Onion Rings, Fresh Watercress, Roasted Garlic–Marrow Butter and Sauce Carmouche

Sorghum Smoked Duck Breast with “Dirty” Fregola Sarda, Red Cabbage Choucroute and Truffle Pate

No, we hadn’t done our homework and we weren’t prepared. We’d neither Googled nor Binged, so we opted to share the chocolate soufflé and completely missed out on the Emeril’s Banana Cream Pie with Graham Cracker Crust, Caramel Sauce and Chocolate Shavings. Photo is a little worse for wear, a result of our having tucked into the souffle with more haste than thought.

Followed by a smooth double espresso.

I think it might have been the
bubbly and our focus on the
food, but we discovered

– at the very end of our meal –
that we had too much
wine left to … leave.
Was it too tacky to ask?
Could there possibly be …
to-go cups?

“It’s New Orleans, ladies, of course we have to-go cups!”

We snapped a pic of our cups next to Emeril’s Sansevierias while waiting for our taxi.

Lee had left cool air in his wake, and the view from the balcony the next morning was peaceful and clean.

But the chores weren’t over and it turned out that there was no way we could leave New Orleans without first making our way down to the river to Café du Monde.

It still didn’t end there. I’d made the mistake of telling my sister about the amazing oysters at the Half Shell Oyster House in downtown Gulfport, Mississippi, so that’s where she forced me to stop for lunch. The first dozen oysters were Charbroiled, with creole seasonings, parmesan and garlic butter, and the second, a mix of Rockefeller, Bienville, Orleans and Charbroiled.

We shared their Cinnamon Roll Bread Pudding for dessert but I already felt put upon by all my chores and refused to snap a pic.

Arriving back in Santa Rosa Beach, I was able to drop Susan with Mom and Dad and my work was done. Burp.

My towels are clean, the sheets on my bed are clean and the shower curtain is soaking in the washer with 2 cups of Clorox. After an hour I'll start its soak in OxyClean. The cats' litter box is clean, the plants are watered and the dishwasher emptied. The outstanding bills have been paid - with sincere apologies. I can once again see the floor of my office. And am pretty much finished scouring the floors of my kitchen.

The cats are back to eating on schedule but I'm not sure they like it 'cause it means no more midnight meals. The plants are also being watered on schedule and I'm quite sure they like it. I only lost two this year to neglect. The oregano died and the old leggy geranium is no longer with me, but at least I didn't lose the expensive Crown of Thorns.

I'm eating on schedule as well. So odd to prepare dinners in the evening. Well, dinners for me. And last night I roasted a chunk of grouper in my pristine oven. Pristine because it hadn't been used since ... I think it was Mother's Day when I baked my mom Crème Brulée.

I have a mountain of menus proposals to produce in the next few days and rental RFPs to send out. Still so much work to do but it's time to pack. Because it's November and November means a trip across country for a visit with my sister and brother-in-law. We have Thanksgiving together every year but the bird isn't the highlight of the trip; it's the time spent with my sister on a remote Pacific Northwest island, indulging ourselves in that year's gastronomic curiosities. And not much else because there's no agenda, no calendar, no clocks, no obligations. 'Cept to eat all that we've brought with us before it spoils.

The view.