While I have many phobias and fears that have hindered my progress as a surfer, it's a different story on the slopes. My skiing skills are top-notch! Really, this is true. And it's mostly because my parents threw me and my brother and sister on skis when we were really little and therefore fearless. I was four when I started skiing. At that age you get pointed down a hill (most likely a gentle bunny slope) and you just go. Wheeeee! In those days nobody worried about helmets and other protective gear so if you hit anything, good luck! Anyway, about every chance my parents could get they took us all skiing. A favorite spot was Okemo, in Vermont, where we'd stay at this little inn called the Okemo Lantern Lodge, which was run by a jolly, somewhat large woman named Marian Cardwell, and her stick-thin, rather surly husband, Paul. Marian Cardwell was an awesome cook, and included in the price of a stay at the Lodge were breakfast and dinner. When I smell bacon sizzling in a pan, I think about the Okemo Lantern Lodge, as there was often bacon on the menu at breakfast. Or sausages. And always toast with lots of butter. Dinners were usually hearty and down-home type meals, roast beef or turkey, and always there were relish trays and vegetables Mrs. Cardwell had raised and canned herself, and really good warm rolls. I wish the lodge was still there, but apparently it's not so that's kind of a bummer. I had laid off skiing for a while after moving to California, but when I figured out how close to LA you could ski, I got back to it. So the weekend before last I took myself up to Mountain High because I figured better take advantage of the snow while it's there! I'd have preferred Mt. Baldy, which is actually even closer, but they are too reliant on natural snow and weren't open for skiing, unfortunately. But Mountain High was fun, if a little too crowded. The only downside was the food at lunch time wasn't great, and that kind of sucked because, like with surfing, one of the great things about skiing is eating, both during and after!
Anyway, shortly after the ski jaunt, a dear old friend and her husband were in town visiting their daughter at college. This friend went to Tulane, so New Orleans has been on my mind. Then I saw an Instagram post from The Little Jewel of New Orleans that they were featuring a special at lunch, a Wagyu Beef Double Cheeseburger Po'Boy. Now that sounded freaking delicious, and I so wanted to try it, but here's the thing about the Po'Boys at the Little Jewel. They are huge! These sandwiches are so packed with goodness they can easily, I've learned, feed two hungry people. So I was all set to order that Double Cheeseburger Po'Boy, but I knew what would happen. I'd shove the whole damn thing in my mouth without stopping, and I wouldn't be able to move for the rest of the day. But, I've always wanted to sample the Cochon de Lait, so here's the lunch I ended up choosing--
In fact I hadn't tried any of the Parish Fair size sandwiches at Little Jewel, but I'm here to tell you this is the perfect size lunch for one (unless you are a very hearty eater. Then, by all means, have a Po'boy!) And actually it too was packed with meat so that some spilled out and had to be eaten with the hands after polishing off the sandwich. What is Cochon de Lait? Well, I'd say it's like a New Orleans version of Carnitas. It's pork (I'd guess shoulder or butt) that's been braised a good long time so that it's meltingly tender. It was served on this delicious soft bun with cole slaw and pickle. Add a little hot sauce, some of those salt and vinegar potato chips, and the ginger ale and I was in lunch heaven. Again, thank you Little Jewel for having come to LA and blessed us with your presence. And maybe, after a really long day of skiing, or a really long surf session, I'll get that double cheeseburger Po'Boy after all!
www.littlejewel.la.com
No comments:
Post a Comment