Friday, June 6, 2008

How to make 27 Deviled Eggs Disappear

Last night Peter, Lady, Pope, and I journeyed over to the opening party of the Southern Food and Beverage Museum. Fun occurred and pig cheeks provided some great live entertainment.

The Pope and Peter picked me up from work and we headed to Cafe Adelaide for a few drinks. Woodford Reserve Mint Juleps drink very easily so by the time Lady arrived the workday was a distant memory.

Remember the Riverwalk? It is still there and where the Limited used to be (adjacent to the Food Court) is now a museum devoted to Southern Food and Beverages. This is going to be a long day.

One of the best dishes of the evening came from the Bourbon House. Oysters poached in horseradish cream with bacon and chives. The oysters were just barely cooked; their edges just beginning to curl like a prom date getting her bangs done. That last sentence may or may not make sense. The overall effect of the dish was like an oyster baked potato, if you can imagine that.

Chef Paul Prudhome was there with a delicious duo of pastas. Both presented penne in a cajun cream sauce one had oysters one had chicken. Dickie Brennan's Steakhouse's creole tomato topped with crabmeat and chopique caviar tasted a lot better than I thought it would. But one can rarely go wrong using creole tomatoes right now.

Cochon had pork cheeks over grits with a salsa verde. Conservative estimates on the number of these I ate range from 3-7. At two cheeks per pig, I have nothing but love for those beautiful porcines. Luke had a Cochon De Lait stuffed with jambalaya. The rice picked up a delicious smoky taste that I normally can find overwhelming. Not on this dish. I also asked for and received some of the pork skin, tough but so salty I understand deers and salt licks much better now. So I have got that going for me, which is nice.

7 on Fulton's Duck Piquant over grits (grits are in right now, did you not get the memo) was really more a cold weather dish, but that did not mean it tasted bad.

The deviled eggs came from Acadiana in Washington, D.C. I do not exaggerate as a general rule, but I am under reporting when I say Peter ate 27 of these crabmeat ravigote stuffed, caviar topped gems. His eyes fixated on the table. Internally you could see him pretending to decide if he wanted another one. Those deviled eggs never stood a chance.

On the way out we stopped by the Parkway Table, chowed down some Roast beef and gravy, and discussed future po-boy ideas with their chef, Justin Kennedy. He did not seem to get my idea for a Escargot Po-Boy, but then again no one does.

Lots of restaurant insiders, chefs, food writers, and wanna-be food writers who really just have some crappy blog (ok there are just two of us). You should head over this weekend and check it out, the museum is actually really neat.

The booze was the reason this recap sucks. Check back later for Peter's much more coherent take on the evening. And someone please tell the mariachi band on the Acura stage in my head, show is over.

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