Thus far, our attempts to set new holiday traditions seems to be going swimmingly at The Green Goddess. We had a little Christmas party for our employees and a few friends who really got this crazy enterprise lifted off the ground; to celebrate that event we adapted a Brazilian recipe for mulled wine we now call The Mull of Bahía. First of all I must confess, who knew tropical Brazil had a taste for hot, mulled red wine? Good thing somebody there had the idea because cachaça really lifts up both the flavor and the potency of this warming winter wonderland mug.
We lucked into some pretty good South African pinot noir at a very favorable price, steeped it until quite hot with a little lemongrass that the magical PZB garden has flourishing, a pair of satsumas, chopped pear and a good apple (you could add apple or pear cider instead/also), adding just a little sprinkle of cinnamon, letting the flavors slowly heat for 30 minutes or so. When this mulling wine is actually quite hot, add a hefty dose of honey. You'll be able to tell how much is needed because the lemongrass and wine by themselves will be tannic, and the honey will smooth out that bitterness towards a roundness that is not so much sweet as it will gain balance and depth of character. Strain and let cool just briefly, just long enough that the heat doesn't completely incapacitate the upcoming addition of booze. Per bottle of steeped wine, add 3 oz of cachaça and 1 1/2 oz of orange liqueur (we use the excellent Mathilde orange rather than triple sec or Grand Marnier, but the awesome Creole Shrubb from Martinique would also be very tasty here). We love the Fazenda "Mae de Ouro" cachaça, but lately it's been hard to track down. I like the Fazenda because it has a hint of smokiness to match its smooth flavor. Currently we use both Cabana (a bit pricier, but well made) and LeBlon (perhaps a bit lighter in style, but packing a nervous edge, a brightness that is more like Rhum Agricole or silver tequila that makes it a dynamite cocktail partner).
Keep warm in a thermos. It tends to disappear at a festively rapid pace...
This week we decided to feature the 1912 Madeira as the concluding course on the tasting menu. We match it to some great old Dutch gouda, the Beemster - aged two years which is long enough for the cheese to develop some salty crystals while retaining its creaminess, a bit of smoked almonds and either Asian pear or gingery poached carambola/star fruit. I wrote in the menu that it's easy to imagine St. Nick putting up his feet after a long night of making magic across the globe and taking a nip of vintage Madeira with some familiar Dutch cheese. This presentation of this remarkable Barbeito Bual Madeira has been very satisfying, for us at The Green Goddess and to our guests. Many of them are discovering the authentic pleasures of genuine vintage Madeira for the first time, but we also had the writer of a richly detailed book about Madeira, David Hancock with his aptly titled "Oceans of Wine," appear at the restaurant with a friend who had just been at the Lopez de Heredia Spanish Wine Feast a few nights earlier. Mr. Hancock really liked the match of Bual, a medium-sweet Madeira that is drinking with such amazing freshness for any wine (much less for a spirit from 1912!), to the caramel and toffee flavors of the old Gouda with our kitchen's smoky almonds. I might even be lucky enough to cater an upcoming January event where we would taste some really old Madeira from pre-phylloxera years, which in Madeira would mean wines from the 1850s or before. Wanna attend that party? I thought so! I am definitely keeping my fingers crossed to get that gig, to celebrate "Oceans of Wine" here in New Orleans with the Tastevin Society and David Hancock.
It's been a great holiday celebration for us to feature a truly amazing spirit in this 1912 Madeira, best of all, at a reasonable price. It's the kind of thing that leaves our guests happy and excited about traditions they are glad to have experienced, and that recognition of traditions worth sharing, in no small measure, is the most important goal of restaurant hospitality. Letting people taste a great tradition, with this vintage Madeira, is just such a good feeling for me and our krewe. It's one little way to make time pause for just a moment in this hectic holiday bustle, to savor a bit of holiday magic.
We've been having a blast with the menu lately: selling lots of Smoked Duck & Chestnut Pasta; little Thai Stuffed Eggplants with Crab, Mango and PZB's Basil; and a new salad featuring Fuyu persimmons with arugula, Port-braised shallots, a caramelized satsuma vinaigrette and my favorite new little taste: toasted pumpernickel bread crushed with toasted hazelnuts into a "dust," sprinkled all over the salad. I think Fuyu season is ending, which is too bad, but I like this dust so much we'll try to re-configure another reason to keep it around. Mike and Stan have been doing a good job dealing with a sudden influx of tasting menus during these holidays, and I feel that our service has been better. We are definitely having fun with our guests, showcasing all sorts of new cocktails, making pairing suggestions, and taking folks on our perfectly odd Green Goddess voyages.
Today I hope everybody takes an extra dose of time to pause and reflect on all the blessings we have, and all the blessings we want to give, here on Christmas. Thanks to all my readers for walking along these spasmodic pages with me, coming to dine with us at The Green Goddess, and enjoying life to the absolute fullest!
We lucked into some pretty good South African pinot noir at a very favorable price, steeped it until quite hot with a little lemongrass that the magical PZB garden has flourishing, a pair of satsumas, chopped pear and a good apple (you could add apple or pear cider instead/also), adding just a little sprinkle of cinnamon, letting the flavors slowly heat for 30 minutes or so. When this mulling wine is actually quite hot, add a hefty dose of honey. You'll be able to tell how much is needed because the lemongrass and wine by themselves will be tannic, and the honey will smooth out that bitterness towards a roundness that is not so much sweet as it will gain balance and depth of character. Strain and let cool just briefly, just long enough that the heat doesn't completely incapacitate the upcoming addition of booze. Per bottle of steeped wine, add 3 oz of cachaça and 1 1/2 oz of orange liqueur (we use the excellent Mathilde orange rather than triple sec or Grand Marnier, but the awesome Creole Shrubb from Martinique would also be very tasty here). We love the Fazenda "Mae de Ouro" cachaça, but lately it's been hard to track down. I like the Fazenda because it has a hint of smokiness to match its smooth flavor. Currently we use both Cabana (a bit pricier, but well made) and LeBlon (perhaps a bit lighter in style, but packing a nervous edge, a brightness that is more like Rhum Agricole or silver tequila that makes it a dynamite cocktail partner).
Keep warm in a thermos. It tends to disappear at a festively rapid pace...
This week we decided to feature the 1912 Madeira as the concluding course on the tasting menu. We match it to some great old Dutch gouda, the Beemster - aged two years which is long enough for the cheese to develop some salty crystals while retaining its creaminess, a bit of smoked almonds and either Asian pear or gingery poached carambola/star fruit. I wrote in the menu that it's easy to imagine St. Nick putting up his feet after a long night of making magic across the globe and taking a nip of vintage Madeira with some familiar Dutch cheese. This presentation of this remarkable Barbeito Bual Madeira has been very satisfying, for us at The Green Goddess and to our guests. Many of them are discovering the authentic pleasures of genuine vintage Madeira for the first time, but we also had the writer of a richly detailed book about Madeira, David Hancock with his aptly titled "Oceans of Wine," appear at the restaurant with a friend who had just been at the Lopez de Heredia Spanish Wine Feast a few nights earlier. Mr. Hancock really liked the match of Bual, a medium-sweet Madeira that is drinking with such amazing freshness for any wine (much less for a spirit from 1912!), to the caramel and toffee flavors of the old Gouda with our kitchen's smoky almonds. I might even be lucky enough to cater an upcoming January event where we would taste some really old Madeira from pre-phylloxera years, which in Madeira would mean wines from the 1850s or before. Wanna attend that party? I thought so! I am definitely keeping my fingers crossed to get that gig, to celebrate "Oceans of Wine" here in New Orleans with the Tastevin Society and David Hancock.
It's been a great holiday celebration for us to feature a truly amazing spirit in this 1912 Madeira, best of all, at a reasonable price. It's the kind of thing that leaves our guests happy and excited about traditions they are glad to have experienced, and that recognition of traditions worth sharing, in no small measure, is the most important goal of restaurant hospitality. Letting people taste a great tradition, with this vintage Madeira, is just such a good feeling for me and our krewe. It's one little way to make time pause for just a moment in this hectic holiday bustle, to savor a bit of holiday magic.
We've been having a blast with the menu lately: selling lots of Smoked Duck & Chestnut Pasta; little Thai Stuffed Eggplants with Crab, Mango and PZB's Basil; and a new salad featuring Fuyu persimmons with arugula, Port-braised shallots, a caramelized satsuma vinaigrette and my favorite new little taste: toasted pumpernickel bread crushed with toasted hazelnuts into a "dust," sprinkled all over the salad. I think Fuyu season is ending, which is too bad, but I like this dust so much we'll try to re-configure another reason to keep it around. Mike and Stan have been doing a good job dealing with a sudden influx of tasting menus during these holidays, and I feel that our service has been better. We are definitely having fun with our guests, showcasing all sorts of new cocktails, making pairing suggestions, and taking folks on our perfectly odd Green Goddess voyages.
Today I hope everybody takes an extra dose of time to pause and reflect on all the blessings we have, and all the blessings we want to give, here on Christmas. Thanks to all my readers for walking along these spasmodic pages with me, coming to dine with us at The Green Goddess, and enjoying life to the absolute fullest!
So I guess I had a pretty massive freakout over the past couple of days. It's chronicled on Twitter, more or less. To me it seemed to start with a horrible dream I had Monday morning. In this nightmare I was making a real effort to reconnect with my characters, but I'd gotten the wrong ones, which were more or less the Cure. (Anybody with half an eye can see the Cure's influence on Lost Souls, or so I assume.) They had all gone down to Shell Beach and commandeered barges, a tugboat, and some kind of tanker, with which they were planning a terrorist attack. Samuel L. Jackson was tearing down the Reggio highway in a furious attempt to stop them, but everybody knew it was my fault and hated me, including Chris, who promptly dumped my ass.
Some of my worst dreams are those in which I'm back with one of my exes. I remember Chris and feel the lack of him, but know I have to be with this once-beloved foe instead. It is the hollowest, loneliest feeling I've known in dream. Usually I wake up, become aware of him sleeping beside me, and feel tremendous relief. This time I woke up within the dream and knew I'd really done it, I'd finally fucked up bad enough to lose him (by putting the Cure on terrorist barges in Shell Beach, yes, I see the absurdity of this, but it didn't help at the time). I saw life without him, an endless featureless plain the color of a bruise. I cried and woke myself and him up saying "Chris. Chris. Chris" and babbling about wrong characters on barges, trying to explain this utter incoherence.
The ensuing day did not pass well. Even tranked to the gills, I couldn't seem to stop sobbing and panicking and doomsaying. I could not bathe. I could not even consider leaving the house (this has been a problem lately). I finally called my intermittent shrink and sobbed and babbled some more until she agreed to give me a few, VERY few, barbiturates to help me function over these next few days. I don't stress much about the holidays (we stopped doing gifts years ago, stocked up on stuff and unable to afford it), but my mom and a dear friend are coming to visit, and I would like to be able to act like something resembling a human being around them. Those who were reading back in the dark days of 2005 will remember my adventures with Dr. Jesus and the Great BUTALBITAL. Butalbital has come into my life again, with its idolatrous-sounding name and its extremely short-term help. Short-term because it's addictive as shit and not even slightly appropriate for treating long-term depression, but thank God she heard enough of the fraying in my voice to throw me a quick merciful lifeline (a scant 10 pills to be parceled out carefully over at least 4 days, worryworts) until I can go see her and figure out why my usual shit's not working anymore. Pharmaceuticals, you've nearly killed me and you've saved my life, both many times. Just like a goddamn lover, ain'tcha? ("Almost had your hooks in me, din'tcha, dear?")
So today my Butalbital and I did laundry, cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed the house, and baked a lovely chocolate chip-pecan pie. Tomorrow we'll greet our guests and try to absorb their love through the merciful haze that says so kindly, "No, that bruise color isn't filling your vision, you don't reek of rotting meat, these people love you, they're not counting the hours until they can get away or silently analyzing the stupidity of everything you say."
So that's the story of my big freakout. As ever, I tell it because of my determination to chronicle the life of one writer's journey through loss, depression, addiction, sorrow, joy, and sometimes redemption in the wake of the post-Katrina federal levee failure. I've written no fiction in three years now, so this is really all I have to offer, and I give it to you without shame. There's no reason for shame. I wasn't like this before August 29, 2005. I'd dealt with depression off and on since I was 17, but at the time of the levee failure I was on no psychiatric drugs, writing prolifically, and (I thought) fairly happy. Now I struggle most days just not to be a mess, and there are a hell of a lot of people who are a hell of a lot worse off than I am ... and a hell of a lot more people who survived the levee failure and its aftermath, but not the lives they tried to piece back together afterward. They gave themselves to the Great Subaudible. I tell you these things in part to keep myself from doing the same.
Some of my worst dreams are those in which I'm back with one of my exes. I remember Chris and feel the lack of him, but know I have to be with this once-beloved foe instead. It is the hollowest, loneliest feeling I've known in dream. Usually I wake up, become aware of him sleeping beside me, and feel tremendous relief. This time I woke up within the dream and knew I'd really done it, I'd finally fucked up bad enough to lose him (by putting the Cure on terrorist barges in Shell Beach, yes, I see the absurdity of this, but it didn't help at the time). I saw life without him, an endless featureless plain the color of a bruise. I cried and woke myself and him up saying "Chris. Chris. Chris" and babbling about wrong characters on barges, trying to explain this utter incoherence.
The ensuing day did not pass well. Even tranked to the gills, I couldn't seem to stop sobbing and panicking and doomsaying. I could not bathe. I could not even consider leaving the house (this has been a problem lately). I finally called my intermittent shrink and sobbed and babbled some more until she agreed to give me a few, VERY few, barbiturates to help me function over these next few days. I don't stress much about the holidays (we stopped doing gifts years ago, stocked up on stuff and unable to afford it), but my mom and a dear friend are coming to visit, and I would like to be able to act like something resembling a human being around them. Those who were reading back in the dark days of 2005 will remember my adventures with Dr. Jesus and the Great BUTALBITAL. Butalbital has come into my life again, with its idolatrous-sounding name and its extremely short-term help. Short-term because it's addictive as shit and not even slightly appropriate for treating long-term depression, but thank God she heard enough of the fraying in my voice to throw me a quick merciful lifeline (a scant 10 pills to be parceled out carefully over at least 4 days, worryworts) until I can go see her and figure out why my usual shit's not working anymore. Pharmaceuticals, you've nearly killed me and you've saved my life, both many times. Just like a goddamn lover, ain'tcha? ("Almost had your hooks in me, din'tcha, dear?")
So today my Butalbital and I did laundry, cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed the house, and baked a lovely chocolate chip-pecan pie. Tomorrow we'll greet our guests and try to absorb their love through the merciful haze that says so kindly, "No, that bruise color isn't filling your vision, you don't reek of rotting meat, these people love you, they're not counting the hours until they can get away or silently analyzing the stupidity of everything you say."
So that's the story of my big freakout. As ever, I tell it because of my determination to chronicle the life of one writer's journey through loss, depression, addiction, sorrow, joy, and sometimes redemption in the wake of the post-Katrina federal levee failure. I've written no fiction in three years now, so this is really all I have to offer, and I give it to you without shame. There's no reason for shame. I wasn't like this before August 29, 2005. I'd dealt with depression off and on since I was 17, but at the time of the levee failure I was on no psychiatric drugs, writing prolifically, and (I thought) fairly happy. Now I struggle most days just not to be a mess, and there are a hell of a lot of people who are a hell of a lot worse off than I am ... and a hell of a lot more people who survived the levee failure and its aftermath, but not the lives they tried to piece back together afterward. They gave themselves to the Great Subaudible. I tell you these things in part to keep myself from doing the same.
First, let me begin by thanking all of our guests for attending Wednesday night's Spanish Holiday Wine Feast, featuring the wines of R. Lopez de Heredia. We did actually obtain a sellout, with some good fortune as the last four seats were filled by visitors to New Orleans who stumbled upon The Green Goddess and were tempted to partake of the pleasures of Feast. We had a blast! Everything went smoothly, and we seemed to do a good job of showcasing these terrific wines from our favorite Rioja bodega in Lopez de Heredia by bring the flavors of Rioja to our tiny kitchen in New Orleans.
We are featuring a Pair of Rioja Beauties on our dinner menu this weekend, with the Meaty Stuffed Piquillo Peppers and the gorgeous 1998 Lopez Rosé BY THE GLASS, as well as the Fresh White ASPARAGUS & WHITE TRUFFLES with a Fonduta of Queso Tetilla with the deeply moving Lopez Tondonia 1989 Vino Blanco BY THE GLASS! (That's no typo -- a great 20 year old white wine...) These wines are very seldom offered by the glass, but we wanted to extend the moment of the Feast just a bit longer onto our regular menu. We hope you'll consider joining us for this special celebration on Sunday night.
Our guests also were much pleased by the Pedro Ximenez sherry-style wines that served as bookends to the Lopez wines. It was gratifying to hear people really enjoy their apertif of Fino so much because it's a really civilized way to begin a meal. We plan to feature that particular PX as much as we can, to breakdown the lack of appreciation surrounding these great, refreshing, tasty companions to the dining table.
Our schedule is gonna be a little outta whack. Today we are open, as one would imagine with all the tailgating going on for the Saints game vs the desperate Dallas Cowboys, but tonight The Green Goddess will be closed. We gotta holler for our Saints tonight, and I know our hearts would not have been with cooking tonight with such a huge game happening, plus we probably wouldn't have been too busy. It's no fun cooking when you're distracted and wishing to be someplace else and compounding that by being slow would've made work like willingly having dental surgery. Obviously while we apologize to those who planned to dine at The Goddess tonight on Saturday, all we can say is WHO DAT, BABY!!! We'll see y'all Sunday night instead...
Now with Christmas & New Year's Day falling on Fridays, it messes up things quite a bit. In the end, we hope it gives our people some extra opportunities to dine with us, but there are a few caveats along the way. Let me explain:
Lunch and daily brunch usually goes on 7 days a week at The Green Goddess. Due to the strain and travel needs of our daytime krewe, however, we will shutdown lunch for Dec. 24-26 so the daytime folks can have some family time. However, I particularly enjoy cooking on Xmas Eve, so the dinner krewe will be open both Wed. Dec. 23 and Thur. Dec 24 from 5 to 10:30 pm. If you are planning to attend Midnight Mass (so are we -- though not at St. Louis Cathedral) come visit for a lovely holiday dinner. Wednesday the 23rd is a bonus night to be open, too, so you last minute shoppers who are enjoying looking for treasures in the French Quarter can count on us that Wed. night for a relaxing meal.
Dinner will be closed for Christmas, too, but we will open on Sat. Dec 26th at 5pm til our usual midnight closing. In fact, we will be open every night for regular dinner service through Dec. 30th at the same time. Lunch will resume their regular schedule on Dec 27th. So if you're headed to New Orleans for the holidays or for New Year's and Sugar Bowl plans, then you have more chances to enjoy a festive meal at The Green Goddess during the week between Christmas and New Year's Eve (NYE).
However, we will be altogether closed on Jan 1st, despite it being a Friday; I imagine we'll be a little too worn down after hosting our New Year's Eve celebration.
About NYE, we have finally been able to confirm that we will indeed be hosting our New Year's Eve Gala on the 4th floor apartment above The Green Goddess. This will be something that we strongly urge folks to make reservations to attend, as there will be limited space available. The view of the fireworks from the apartment's balcony at midnight will be terrific and you won't have to be in the thronging masses to enjoy the sight! I'll drop more details about our plans for NYE, but in a nutshell it will be a fantastic bargain at $44 per person for a banquet of ever-changing sumptuous dishes and groovy snacks, with a "cash bar" (we can run tabs for folks on their cards, so no worries there) to drink whatever your heart desires ... and your liver permits! For our vegetarian diners, we will have quite a few appropriate options that should be tempting enough that you may have to battle with the omnivores over those dishes.
As I said, we will drop more details soon about the menu and the theme of Old & New Spirits very soon. But today is a GEAUX SAINTS day off, with an eggnog daquiri and maybe some crispy Theo's Pizza, or PZB's terrific sausage quiche that is now sitting in my fridge, or maybe all that and a whole lot more, as we countdown the moments to a fierce showdown in the Superdome tonight.
Oh and BTW, massive shout-out to CP3, the dazzling Chris Paul of our New Orleans Hornets, for dismantling any semblance of defense given by the hated Denver Nuggets in last night's smashing victory. C'mon y'all, 30 points, 19 assists, and 9 rebounds by CP3 qualifies as one of the best games of his excellent career, and it's good to see the Hornets starting to turn the corner under Jeff Bower and Tim Floyd. Looks like we might have some quality hoops to cheer about even after the Saints win the Super Bowl!
We are featuring a Pair of Rioja Beauties on our dinner menu this weekend, with the Meaty Stuffed Piquillo Peppers and the gorgeous 1998 Lopez Rosé BY THE GLASS, as well as the Fresh White ASPARAGUS & WHITE TRUFFLES with a Fonduta of Queso Tetilla with the deeply moving Lopez Tondonia 1989 Vino Blanco BY THE GLASS! (That's no typo -- a great 20 year old white wine...) These wines are very seldom offered by the glass, but we wanted to extend the moment of the Feast just a bit longer onto our regular menu. We hope you'll consider joining us for this special celebration on Sunday night.
Our guests also were much pleased by the Pedro Ximenez sherry-style wines that served as bookends to the Lopez wines. It was gratifying to hear people really enjoy their apertif of Fino so much because it's a really civilized way to begin a meal. We plan to feature that particular PX as much as we can, to breakdown the lack of appreciation surrounding these great, refreshing, tasty companions to the dining table.
Our schedule is gonna be a little outta whack. Today we are open, as one would imagine with all the tailgating going on for the Saints game vs the desperate Dallas Cowboys, but tonight The Green Goddess will be closed. We gotta holler for our Saints tonight, and I know our hearts would not have been with cooking tonight with such a huge game happening, plus we probably wouldn't have been too busy. It's no fun cooking when you're distracted and wishing to be someplace else and compounding that by being slow would've made work like willingly having dental surgery. Obviously while we apologize to those who planned to dine at The Goddess tonight on Saturday, all we can say is WHO DAT, BABY!!! We'll see y'all Sunday night instead...
Now with Christmas & New Year's Day falling on Fridays, it messes up things quite a bit. In the end, we hope it gives our people some extra opportunities to dine with us, but there are a few caveats along the way. Let me explain:
Lunch and daily brunch usually goes on 7 days a week at The Green Goddess. Due to the strain and travel needs of our daytime krewe, however, we will shutdown lunch for Dec. 24-26 so the daytime folks can have some family time. However, I particularly enjoy cooking on Xmas Eve, so the dinner krewe will be open both Wed. Dec. 23 and Thur. Dec 24 from 5 to 10:30 pm. If you are planning to attend Midnight Mass (so are we -- though not at St. Louis Cathedral) come visit for a lovely holiday dinner. Wednesday the 23rd is a bonus night to be open, too, so you last minute shoppers who are enjoying looking for treasures in the French Quarter can count on us that Wed. night for a relaxing meal.
Dinner will be closed for Christmas, too, but we will open on Sat. Dec 26th at 5pm til our usual midnight closing. In fact, we will be open every night for regular dinner service through Dec. 30th at the same time. Lunch will resume their regular schedule on Dec 27th. So if you're headed to New Orleans for the holidays or for New Year's and Sugar Bowl plans, then you have more chances to enjoy a festive meal at The Green Goddess during the week between Christmas and New Year's Eve (NYE).
However, we will be altogether closed on Jan 1st, despite it being a Friday; I imagine we'll be a little too worn down after hosting our New Year's Eve celebration.
About NYE, we have finally been able to confirm that we will indeed be hosting our New Year's Eve Gala on the 4th floor apartment above The Green Goddess. This will be something that we strongly urge folks to make reservations to attend, as there will be limited space available. The view of the fireworks from the apartment's balcony at midnight will be terrific and you won't have to be in the thronging masses to enjoy the sight! I'll drop more details about our plans for NYE, but in a nutshell it will be a fantastic bargain at $44 per person for a banquet of ever-changing sumptuous dishes and groovy snacks, with a "cash bar" (we can run tabs for folks on their cards, so no worries there) to drink whatever your heart desires ... and your liver permits! For our vegetarian diners, we will have quite a few appropriate options that should be tempting enough that you may have to battle with the omnivores over those dishes.
As I said, we will drop more details soon about the menu and the theme of Old & New Spirits very soon. But today is a GEAUX SAINTS day off, with an eggnog daquiri and maybe some crispy Theo's Pizza, or PZB's terrific sausage quiche that is now sitting in my fridge, or maybe all that and a whole lot more, as we countdown the moments to a fierce showdown in the Superdome tonight.
Oh and BTW, massive shout-out to CP3, the dazzling Chris Paul of our New Orleans Hornets, for dismantling any semblance of defense given by the hated Denver Nuggets in last night's smashing victory. C'mon y'all, 30 points, 19 assists, and 9 rebounds by CP3 qualifies as one of the best games of his excellent career, and it's good to see the Hornets starting to turn the corner under Jeff Bower and Tim Floyd. Looks like we might have some quality hoops to cheer about even after the Saints win the Super Bowl!
The intimate Spanish Holiday Wine Feast we have meticulously planned for tomorrow night is looking good. Beautiful oxtails in the house, going on the stove to braise; making all our canapes and appetizers; double-checking that all the wines have indeed arrived; making a list of "to do" things and checking it twice.
Unfortunately, we just had a four top cancel their reservation here at the 11th hour, but that could be your good fortune since it now re-opens the last four seats we have available. Plenty of reservations are kept with credit cards, especially for a significant event like this dinner, then some joints make folks pay for a cancellation. We all know when attending a wedding dinner that the family is charged per each reservation, and last minute cancellations cost just as much had they been able to attend. I just would rather not grub for money like that. If they cancelled on us, I'm sure they had an good reason and hopefully it wasn't a dire emergency.
We are super excited about presenting this tribute dinner to the spectacular wines of R. Lopez de Heredia, and I can barely stand to just gaze at the gorgeous 1981 Gran Reserva Tondonia Vino Blanco -- that's gonna be a wonderful experience for all involved.
If you've been sitting on the fence about our 6 course, 8 wine Spanish Holiday Wine Feast the door leading to this dinner just opened up again. We feel certain this will be a remarkable, festive dinner, and don't hesitate to join us if you can.
Probably it's best, since time is short, to call The Green Goddess at 504-919-7394 to get in that number, although if you decide late tonight (after we are done prepping), dropping me an email at chef@thegreengoddessnola -dot- com will work, too.
P.S. A very nice young couple visiting New Orleans just dropped by the restaurant while we were prepping, drawn by the aromas of the Spanish Feast as the oxtails and juniper berries braised slowly in the oven and our wild mushroom soup came together in the pot. She had been to Spain, at least twice, and they decided it was clearly meant to be that they should attend the Spanish Wine Feast. So now we are back to the last deuce, an opening for two. Serendipity awaits the last couple to decide to join the merriment...
Unfortunately, we just had a four top cancel their reservation here at the 11th hour, but that could be your good fortune since it now re-opens the last four seats we have available. Plenty of reservations are kept with credit cards, especially for a significant event like this dinner, then some joints make folks pay for a cancellation. We all know when attending a wedding dinner that the family is charged per each reservation, and last minute cancellations cost just as much had they been able to attend. I just would rather not grub for money like that. If they cancelled on us, I'm sure they had an good reason and hopefully it wasn't a dire emergency.
We are super excited about presenting this tribute dinner to the spectacular wines of R. Lopez de Heredia, and I can barely stand to just gaze at the gorgeous 1981 Gran Reserva Tondonia Vino Blanco -- that's gonna be a wonderful experience for all involved.
If you've been sitting on the fence about our 6 course, 8 wine Spanish Holiday Wine Feast the door leading to this dinner just opened up again. We feel certain this will be a remarkable, festive dinner, and don't hesitate to join us if you can.
Probably it's best, since time is short, to call The Green Goddess at 504-919-7394 to get in that number, although if you decide late tonight (after we are done prepping), dropping me an email at chef@thegreengoddessnola -dot- com will work, too.
P.S. A very nice young couple visiting New Orleans just dropped by the restaurant while we were prepping, drawn by the aromas of the Spanish Feast as the oxtails and juniper berries braised slowly in the oven and our wild mushroom soup came together in the pot. She had been to Spain, at least twice, and they decided it was clearly meant to be that they should attend the Spanish Wine Feast. So now we are back to the last deuce, an opening for two. Serendipity awaits the last couple to decide to join the merriment...
I've just wasted the last hour notifying various file-sharing sites to remove illegally posted copies of my books. I'm not even going to say what I think about so-called fans who use these slimeball sites to steal work from writers, except this. I hate to give these sites any publicity at all, but I will say that other writers should check scribd.com and 4shared.com for stolen work.
A few days ago I tweeted the statement, "I think art about New Orleans, especially post-K, should be made by New Orleanians. #thereisaidit" I define New Orleanians as people living in the greater New Orleans area long-term as well as devoted exiles. I do NOT include jet-setters who own New Orleans homes that stand empty 90% of the time or those who left the city post-K and don't want to return.
But my Twitter statement still makes me antsy, because in general, I don't believe in using the word "should" around art at all. I've always been deeply suspicious of any statement beginning "Artists (writers, whatever) should..." that doesn't end "...do the best work they're capable of, full stop."
As well, I had made a hero's exception for Josh Neufeld, author of A.D.: After the Deluge, and a friend e-mailed to ask why. My friend wrote, "I bought that damned book because I thought he was a New Orleanian. Boy was I pissed when I got it and found out he was a New Yorker. I think it's a good book but if I had known he was a New Yorker living in New York I never would have bought it, to be quite honest. If he's giving profits from the book to the people who need it most, I'll feel ok about it, but I feel kind of like a duped schmuck as it is!"
I replied, "Neufeld = honorary New Orleanian because he did major, major rescue work down here after the levees failed, Like, lifesaving work. He has also put together a great A.D. website with tons of Katrina info & resources; http://www.smithmag.net/afterthedeluge/
But I realized that if I believe Josh Neufeld could get it right, there must be other non-New Orleanians out there who can get it right too. And for me, at least these days, that's what is most important in art about New Orleans: getting it right. Even before the storm, so much of it didn't. And if you haven't lived or spent major chunks of time here since the levees failed, you do not know what it was like those first couple of years. You can't research it. You can't imagine it from the footage you saw on TV. You might think you can, your heart might break for us and you might try to tell people why we still matter and if so I thank you, but you don't know the stenches, the tears, the daily assaults on the mind and spirit. You can never know these things if you weren't here. And you should be glad.
So I'm trying to at least modify my "should." It's hard to come up with another pithy line, though. Art about New Orleans, especially post-K, is less likely to suck and be offensive if made by New Orleanians? Art about New Orleans, especially post-K, has virtually no chance of getting it right if not made by New Orleanians? I don't know. Artists will, and should, make art about the things that grab them by the throat and won't let go. So if what happened to us after the federal levees failed does that to you, then by all means, go with it. At least your heart will be in the right place, and that will show even if you don't know the Ninth Ward from the Lower Ninth Ward. But if you decide -- as many already seem to have done -- that "Hey! Post-Katrina New Orleans would be a really cool, edgy place to set this!", then may God have mercy on your soul, because New Orleans will not.
A few days ago I tweeted the statement, "I think art about New Orleans, especially post-K, should be made by New Orleanians. #thereisaidit" I define New Orleanians as people living in the greater New Orleans area long-term as well as devoted exiles. I do NOT include jet-setters who own New Orleans homes that stand empty 90% of the time or those who left the city post-K and don't want to return.
But my Twitter statement still makes me antsy, because in general, I don't believe in using the word "should" around art at all. I've always been deeply suspicious of any statement beginning "Artists (writers, whatever) should..." that doesn't end "...do the best work they're capable of, full stop."
As well, I had made a hero's exception for Josh Neufeld, author of A.D.: After the Deluge, and a friend e-mailed to ask why. My friend wrote, "I bought that damned book because I thought he was a New Orleanian. Boy was I pissed when I got it and found out he was a New Yorker. I think it's a good book but if I had known he was a New Yorker living in New York I never would have bought it, to be quite honest. If he's giving profits from the book to the people who need it most, I'll feel ok about it, but I feel kind of like a duped schmuck as it is!"
I replied, "Neufeld = honorary New Orleanian because he did major, major rescue work down here after the levees failed, Like, lifesaving work. He has also put together a great A.D. website with tons of Katrina info & resources; http://www.smithmag.net/afterthedeluge/
But I realized that if I believe Josh Neufeld could get it right, there must be other non-New Orleanians out there who can get it right too. And for me, at least these days, that's what is most important in art about New Orleans: getting it right. Even before the storm, so much of it didn't. And if you haven't lived or spent major chunks of time here since the levees failed, you do not know what it was like those first couple of years. You can't research it. You can't imagine it from the footage you saw on TV. You might think you can, your heart might break for us and you might try to tell people why we still matter and if so I thank you, but you don't know the stenches, the tears, the daily assaults on the mind and spirit. You can never know these things if you weren't here. And you should be glad.
So I'm trying to at least modify my "should." It's hard to come up with another pithy line, though. Art about New Orleans, especially post-K, is less likely to suck and be offensive if made by New Orleanians? Art about New Orleans, especially post-K, has virtually no chance of getting it right if not made by New Orleanians? I don't know. Artists will, and should, make art about the things that grab them by the throat and won't let go. So if what happened to us after the federal levees failed does that to you, then by all means, go with it. At least your heart will be in the right place, and that will show even if you don't know the Ninth Ward from the Lower Ninth Ward. But if you decide -- as many already seem to have done -- that "Hey! Post-Katrina New Orleans would be a really cool, edgy place to set this!", then may God have mercy on your soul, because New Orleans will not.
Does anyone remember/can anyone track down the post I made here back in '05 or '06 about the (I thought) non-confrontational but brilliant way Chris handled the racist man who sold us a car in Bibleland during our exile? I wanted to show it to someone, but after looking through two months' worth of post-K posts, I can take no more.
The recipe was friggin' awesome. I had two helpings after a week of no appetite. I revised it a bit and renamed it Man Casserole because it seems like a perfect thing for a lonely man to fix and eat up from ingredients he might have around, but it is great for all genders.
MAN CASSEROLE
Ingredients:
Pam
2-3 Yukon Gold or similar potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
6 strips of thick-cut bacon
3/4 cup chicken broth or water
Handful of sliced pickled jalapeno peppers, or to taste
1 cup grated sharp cheese
Preheat oven to 375. Spray 8" x 8" baking pan with Pam. Line with one layer of potatoes. Cut bacon slices in half crosswise and lay them over potatoes. Top bacon layer with another layer of potatoes. Scatter jalapenos over top, then pour liquid (chicken broth or water) over whole thing. Bake at 375 for 45 minutes. Then scatter about 1 cup of grated cheese (any hard, sharp kind will do, or even Pepper Jack in a pinch) over top and bake for 30 more minutes or until golden-brown and bubbly on top. Casserole is now ready to serve, but if you don't want to eat it yet, cover it with foil, turn off oven, and just leave it in there -- it will get even better. As long as you don't burn the cheese, I imagine it's pretty hard to overcook, though it will begin to decompose eventually.
MAN CASSEROLE
Ingredients:
Pam
2-3 Yukon Gold or similar potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
6 strips of thick-cut bacon
3/4 cup chicken broth or water
Handful of sliced pickled jalapeno peppers, or to taste
1 cup grated sharp cheese
Preheat oven to 375. Spray 8" x 8" baking pan with Pam. Line with one layer of potatoes. Cut bacon slices in half crosswise and lay them over potatoes. Top bacon layer with another layer of potatoes. Scatter jalapenos over top, then pour liquid (chicken broth or water) over whole thing. Bake at 375 for 45 minutes. Then scatter about 1 cup of grated cheese (any hard, sharp kind will do, or even Pepper Jack in a pinch) over top and bake for 30 more minutes or until golden-brown and bubbly on top. Casserole is now ready to serve, but if you don't want to eat it yet, cover it with foil, turn off oven, and just leave it in there -- it will get even better. As long as you don't burn the cheese, I imagine it's pretty hard to overcook, though it will begin to decompose eventually.
I need privacy the way I need oxygen, books, or love. I look back on all the people I've severed from my life because in one way or another they violated my privacy, and I see a bunch of people who had warnings. I don't make any big secret of it. Approach with caution, courtesy, and respect, and I will afford you the same. Approach with entitlement, rudeness, or lack of welcome, and at best you will no longer exist to me; at worst you will meet my friend Big Steve. (Yeah, and I talk so tough and defend my privacy and my property and then I take to my bed in a three-day swoon. Big fucking man. Also, you ain't no nice guy.)
Obviously, none of this commentary is aimed at anyone here. That I know of.
I'm making a Desolation Casserole, my own invention:
1 layer thinly sliced potatoes
1 layer bacon strips, halved
1 more layer potatoes
Scatter of pickled jalapeno slices to taste
Bake at 375 for 45 minutes. Then scatter about 1 cup of grated cheese (any hard, sharp kind will do, or even Pepper Jack in a pinch) over top and bake for 15 more minutes. If cheese is golden-brown but potatoes don't seem soft enough, cover with foil and bake the crap out of it for a while longer. I can't vouch for this recipe because it isn't done yet, but as long as you don't burn the cheese, I imagine it's pretty hard to overcook.
Obviously, none of this commentary is aimed at anyone here. That I know of.
I'm making a Desolation Casserole, my own invention:
1 layer thinly sliced potatoes
1 layer bacon strips, halved
1 more layer potatoes
Scatter of pickled jalapeno slices to taste
Bake at 375 for 45 minutes. Then scatter about 1 cup of grated cheese (any hard, sharp kind will do, or even Pepper Jack in a pinch) over top and bake for 15 more minutes. If cheese is golden-brown but potatoes don't seem soft enough, cover with foil and bake the crap out of it for a while longer. I can't vouch for this recipe because it isn't done yet, but as long as you don't burn the cheese, I imagine it's pretty hard to overcook.
We just had a cancellation, which opens up the last quartet of seats for our Spanish Holiday Wine Feast on Wed. Dec 16th at 7 pm. Previous posts go into deep details about the 8 featured wines and 6 courses we have designed to showcase our burgeoning appreciation for the amazing wines from R. Lopez de Heredia of Haro, Rioja, along with two outstanding, unusual discoveries of bookend wines made in Andalucia using the Pedro Ximenez grape, beginning with a jaw-dropping fino sherry that will rock you tastebuds, and culminating in the luxurious 1927 Solera from the Alvear family in the Montila-Morilles region.
$135 covers the entire festive event, including taxes and tips. Try to sweet talk Santa into giving you an early holiday gift, and we will be glad to have you for this romantic, special dining event at The Green Goddess.
$135 covers the entire festive event, including taxes and tips. Try to sweet talk Santa into giving you an early holiday gift, and we will be glad to have you for this romantic, special dining event at The Green Goddess.
Page Summary
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chefcdb : The Mull of Bahía [+0] - docbrite : Big Freakout, Dissected [+5]
- chefcdb : Weird Christmas Hours, Who Dats, and New Year's Eve [+0]
- chefcdb : Hmmm, last second cancellation leaves a different 4 seats open [+0]
- docbrite : U.S. Out Of New Orleans? [+15]
- docbrite : Chris In Bibleland [+9]
- docbrite : Man Casserole [+3]
- docbrite : Go Away [+8]
- chefcdb : 4 Seats Remain for Lopez de Heredia Wine Dinner [+0]