Today is our wedding anniversary. It has been 6 years. It should be mentioned that neither of us remembered but were reminded by outside parties. Thank you to my aunt, keep sending those emails, I may need a reminder when the kid’s birthdays come around. This is no testament on how much I love my husband or my level of happiness in our marriage. It just means that since having kids my brain has slowly been sucked from my head.
I don’t really understand wedding anniversaries. Yes, we are happy that we are still together, there were a few moments after Amber was born that I thought, “Oh my Gawd!!! Is this my life and how do I get out of it?”. After we got use to her and all the trouble she brings we have settled in nicely. However, why do I have to celebrate making another year, did I not promise to do that at the wedding. What, they thought I lied and needed to be reminded every year that I promised to stay married for life?
The question of gifts came up, but really with birthdays and Christmas, I get tapped out. George has put us in a position (Thank you, honey) that we want or need nothing. I actually strain myself to think up things for him to buy me and then look surprised. (He does quite well in the present department, so I shouldn’t make fun, but I will.) George is difficult to buy for. He is constantly asking for things I think he just doesn’t need. I know, it is all about him, but I will be the one tripping over the item after a few months. I should just buy him what he puts on his wish list (Yes, we each have a wish list carefully organized on our computers. At anytime either one of us can go to said list and see what the other may want.), because at least he will play with the item.
I told George no gifts this year, really there was no time seeing that neither of us remembered. I said let’s go to Commander’s Palace for dinner on Saturday. Mom was babysitting, yeah!!! They have just reopened after being closed for just over a year after Katrina. I thought we could get in, because you know there is a slow down of tourists to the city. (I wonder who all those people were going in and out of the titty bars and flashing their boobs on Bourbon street? Hey, it isn’t Mardi Gras and those beads cost like a penny. Have some dignity.) Uh, the earliest reservation was for 930pm. Sorry, but I am too old to eat that late and since having kids we have gotten use to eating at 530pm. We beat the rush and the kids don’t bother many people, because all the swinging childless people eat much later than us. So we decided to go there for brunch on Sunday. We ended up going to NOLA, an Emeril restaurant. It was nice and casual enough.
I think we are missing something, because we don’t drink. We actually go to these places to take in the atmosphere and food, which they deliver. This is where I discover I am a simple girl (or maybe just white trash). I understand all these chefs want to impress us with their latest creations and how well they can put flavors together, but frankly it is lost on me. I am sure other people find this food delicious, I am left confused. I had a Filet Mignon with some kind of bordelaise sauce (which I really never found), sauteed rapini (broccoli rabe) and dirty rice. Now, I love me some dirty rice, but I am not sure what I had last night. Hey Emeril, what did you do to the dirty rice? It had a tomato taste and not much of a kick. Now, dirty rice I have had at Zea’s or at other’s home has a kick. It will knock you on your ass and you come back begging for more. The steak was good, easy to cut, but where is the sauce? I know Emeril has eaten down here before and knows we want stuff smothered in any kind of cream sauce. If I cant see it, it ain’t there. We did have a crab cake for a starter that was pretty good, but who looks at an eggplant and says lets puree this thing and see how it taste. Uh, not too good. I should say that the service was great. There was always someone there to fill our water, fold our napkin when we left the table, and clear some mess we made. Hell, it took 3 people to do those jobs and I do them at home all by myself. I deserve a medal. I would like to say that it nice of them to give me a black napkin so that I wouldn’t get white napkin droppings all over my black skirt. Cause, you know when you go clubbing afterwards and the blacklight is on, you don’t want all kinds of little white things on your black clothes. I don’t know what was in that food, but I was knocked out by the time we got in the car. I slept the whole way home. I think Emeril is slipping something into the food.
Today was our trip to Commander’s. A place that people talk about and everyone has been to at least once. Well, I have been there at least once. I don’t know what it looked like before the storm, but hell they did a great job rebuilding it. I would like them to finish the bathroom. I know all us ladies have seen our parts before, but we would prefer a lock on the stall when we are doing our business. It is just a lady thing. I was very nervous about our brunch here, because we had the kids with us. I told George to warn them on the phone when we made the reservations, because I didn’t want anyone coming to us and complaining. I would hate to get ignorant in such a nice place.
We are seated and everything seems to be going well. Sammy is a little upset, because he is hungry, but doesn’t want to nurse. No worries, I have the diaper bag that has everything. Voila, lunch for Sammy. Amber is doing okay, even though she was a total pill at church and the store earlier. (We went to the Devil {Walmart} to see if they had anything for Halloween. Nope, nothing. What, now I have shop for my Halloween stuff 2 months in advance? They had Christmas stuff out. I think the world is coming to an end.)We are quietly waiting for our menus, munching on bread and listening to the jazz band. Let me tell you there is nothing like eating while 3 men come to your table and play jazz for you. It is great. Finally, the menus come and I scan to see if there is anything I will like. Nope, not really. I will say it was far cheaper than I thought it would be. Depending on your entree, you could get a starter, entree and dessert for about $36. Not bad. I order pancakes, because really how different can pancakes taste. I found out very different. What the hell is brandy milk and how do you get it into a whip cream? I had to share with Amber, who filled up on bread and chocolate milk. Now, do you what to know what chocolate milk at a fancy restaurant will get you? They actually melt chocolate and professionally stir it into the milk. There is no Hersey syrup at Commander’s and I never saw the chocolate fall to the bottom of the glass. You do, however, have to wait a little bit for this milk, which is difficult for a 4 yrs old to comprehend when everyone else has their drinks.
My starter was crab and egg creole. I love crab meat, put it anything and I will eat it. However, poach eggs I am not too fond of. I think it is an after affect of being pregnant. Once the yolk was broken on that egg and it’s runny yellow goodness pour into the creole gravy I was done. YUCK!!!! Good thing George was there, he ate it. Our dessert was a chocolate tart. Okay, chocolate. Good. Don’t know what a tart is, but if it is made of chocolate it has to be good, right? Uh, I don’t know what that texture was, but I don’t want it near my mouth again.
It was nice to have the jazz band play our wedding song, The Way You Look Tonight. I don’t know where the line was,between enjoying the music and actually cheating with the man singing. This man’s stare on me was so intense, I think I did break a wedding vow. It was uncomfortable. We did leave the restaurant with several people telling us how good our children were. They didn’t know the threats we laid down to Amber before we entered the restaurant. And again the atmosphere was worth the price of the food. I do not feel well, again, and am very tired. Damnit, did Emeril leave his special sleepy ingredients at this restaurant, too.
I will say there is no other place, but New Orleans, where you get to second line around the restaurant and the owner joins in. Where the servers will actually talk and joke with you. None of our servers had a stick up their butt. And if you are use to fine dining, like many are, I am sure you will enjoy the uniqueness of the food. I think my stomach has become too accustomed to the middle of the road restaurants that it was put into shock this weekend. Maybe like all things that I have discovered since hanging around with George, I will come to expect only the best and will shun anything that doesn’t measure up. Hey, one can break out of their simpleness.
If you have stumbled onto this because you googled: New Orleans, Emeril, Commander’s Palace, NOLA or runny, yellow goodness, please don’t go by my review of these 2 fine restaurant. I have eaten at other fine restaurants, like Shula’s and Emeril’s Delmonico’s and enjoyed it very much. I think I am more a steak and potato girl. I say try these restaurants and I am sure you will enjoy them. I would highly recommend Commander’s Sunday Brunch. It is not that expensive and if you drink I am sure you will like the Mimosas.
