No disrespect to the occidentals

Made it back from New Orleans yesterday, but I brought a mean headcold with me. Took the day off from work today, since there’s no way I can drive in my present condition. Just getting down to the CVS and back this afternoon was an adventure.

Given these parameters, expect even less coherence from this blog for the next few days.

Recapping from where we left off: Amy & I had a wonderful dinner at NOLA on Sunday. I was like Reggie Jackson, going for three home runs that night:

Appetizer: Pan-roasted crab cake with smoky eggplant puree, feta cheese, crispy spinach and citrus butter

Salad: Strawberries and goat cheese with baby spinach, toasted pistachios and warm bacon-balsamic vinaigrette

Entrée: “Shrimp & Grits” sautéed Gulf shrimp, grilled green onions, smoked cheddar grits, apple smoked bacon, crimini mushrooms, Creole tomato glaze and red chili-Abita butter sauce

Stupidly, I added the NOLA Buzz Bomb for dessert (flourless chocolate torte with bittersweet chocolate mousse and brandied apricots wrapped in chocolate ganach). We were quite stuffed.

Earlier in the day, my wife went to church with her mom. Her dad stayed home, seemingly intent on passing that headcold on to me (just kidding). I read some Pynchon, tried to nap, and watched Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, and that’s about as close to religion as I’ve gone lately.

The sermon went on pretty late, evidently, but the highlight of the morning came when they were singing hymns. Amy told me that, during the children’s church segment, they broke out an old standard, the first verse of which is

Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the world,
Red and yellow, black and white,
They are precious in his sight,
Jesus loves the little children of the world.

“That’s a nice sentiment,” I said.

“Yeah,” she replied. “But then they sang a second verse, which I’d never heard but everyone else knew:

“Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the street,
English, Irish, Russian, Jew,
German, Jap, Italian, too,
Jesus loves the little children of the street.”

“Did Bill Parcells write your hymnal?” I asked. No disrespect to Orientals. Or Mel Gibson.

As I’ve said, everyone down there has treated me pretty well. Especially Emeril.