Dinner—Or, Proof that New Orleanians will Spend Every Minute of Lunch Planning Their Dinner
Last night, we had dinner at Irene's Cuisine. The original plan was dinner at Mr. B's Bistro, which is one of my favorite places in the city. Mr. B's just recently reopened. Although IT did not flood the French Quarter, many buildings suffered rain damage. Mr. B's suffered doubly. Rain poured in the building, which is bad enough. What's worse, it's also one of the few buildings around here with a basement, where the restrooms and offices were located. The water gathered in the basement and had no place to go.
I kind of had my heart and stomach set on going to Mr. B's. I checked the menu on the internet. I had it all planned out. Gumbo Ya-Ya. Hickory grilled fish. Or barbecued shrimp. Bread pudding for desert.
But, change of plans. Mom called. "It's too far to walk to Mr. B's. We're going to Stella!." I'm thinking, Stella!—what Stella!? I wanna go to Mr. B's. Whaaaahaaahaaah. I check the internet. I find Tom's review. He likes it. He thinks someone should pop out of the kitchen and scream STELLA!!! every now and then. I find the menu.
It looks adventurous. It looks expensive. It looks like:
Sake and Miso Glazed Japanese Mero Seabass with Udon Noodles, Roasted Local Green Garlic, Buna Shimeji Mushrooms and Lobster, Crab and Shark's Fin Brothis not the same as a nice piece of grilled fish. And it looks like:
Avocado Shake with Espresso Granita and Jalapeñois not the same as bread pudding.
