Wednesday, March 25, 2015
joe paris search
I'm looking for Joe Paris. In an earlier life he was my brother. He's a daily blogger but I'm just learning computer skills of that type so I haven't found him yet. Anyone who knows how to access his stuff will please leave me a message. I might see him this weekend but I can't be sure. We're having a crawfish boil for my brother, Johnny, and his new husband, the Olympic diving champion Greg Louganis. They live in Los Angeles and are currently promoting Greg's new documentary on his life. He and Johnny are grand marshals or whatever at a big gay pride event in Lafayette this weekend, the last of March. Well, back to breathing in these first days of spring and enjoying retirement, which means lots of fishing, crabbing and BBQs and blessed reading for hours on end for the pure pleasure of it. To paraphrase a currently popular slogan without aiming for political incorrectness, Slack Lives Matter. Update: Of course I found my brother by googling him, but I'm looking for a certain site where he posts his daily blog.
Friday, March 13, 2015
mary tutwiler, a remembrance
Remembrance of Things Past, French novelist Marcel Proust's classic nine-volume memoir, was triggered by the taste of a pastry from his youth. Taste, smell, touch, hearing and sight. All are ports into our past.
In the case of Mary Tutwiler, with whom I shared a decade-long love affair with life's culinary adventures, the taste would be, for example, the Sweet Potato Bread at Miss Lil's Kitchen in Jeanerette, possibly the best dessert that ever passed my lips. At the time, I was news editor and feature writer at The Daily Iberian in New Iberia, where Mary lived in a house rumored to have Jean Lafitte treasure buried on the property.
Her heart and life approach much resembled treasure troves ripe for discovery. I eagerly engaged my spade in the search that as often as not ended in having "dessert first," which became a catchphrase with us.
I first was touched by Mary's magic after writing an article about the city's landfill that described white egrets
as exclamation points and curve-necked question marks against the green trees. She sent me a box of Lindor chocolate truffles, eminently superior to a note of appreciation, having spotted me for a hedonist instantly.
That led to years of seeking out road trips centered around good food at rural grocery stores and soul-food kitchens as well as "off the eaten track" rough diamonds scattered across southwest Louisiana.
After years of working as an award-winning reporter herself, claiming that I had "put the pen" in her hand, she recently opened "Saints Street Inn," a critically acclaimed restaurant in Lafayette. I haven't been there yet, but it's not because I don't want to expose my "big bang heart" she knows so well. It's because, in part, I've tasted most of her specialties with just her and I at the table, or tree stump. Those years have become akin to dreams, and that's one thing I can't surrender. Sometimes, it's all a guy's got left to lose. Update: I have been told that Mary sold out her half of the restaurant because, for one thing, it had eliminated leisure time in her life, which is as important to her as it is to many Europeans, particularly Italians and Spaniards.
Now she reportedly is marketing Louisiana alligator products, hiring tanners and artisans to produce belts, purses, wallets, etc. If you know Mary, it makes sense that she has chosen a sustainable resource. Just ask Wayne Sagrera at Sagrera Alligator Farm in Big Woods south of Abbeville. Gator farming has made the big reptiles as sustainable as pine trees. Perhaps Mary will, if she hasn't already, contact Kathy Richard in Abbeville to sell some of Kathy's Swamp Ivory alligator jewelry. It's lovely stuff. One of my favorite stored impressions of Mary is the line of her jaw when she got determined about something. My best wishes go out to her for success and happiness in her life.
In the case of Mary Tutwiler, with whom I shared a decade-long love affair with life's culinary adventures, the taste would be, for example, the Sweet Potato Bread at Miss Lil's Kitchen in Jeanerette, possibly the best dessert that ever passed my lips. At the time, I was news editor and feature writer at The Daily Iberian in New Iberia, where Mary lived in a house rumored to have Jean Lafitte treasure buried on the property.
Her heart and life approach much resembled treasure troves ripe for discovery. I eagerly engaged my spade in the search that as often as not ended in having "dessert first," which became a catchphrase with us.
I first was touched by Mary's magic after writing an article about the city's landfill that described white egrets
as exclamation points and curve-necked question marks against the green trees. She sent me a box of Lindor chocolate truffles, eminently superior to a note of appreciation, having spotted me for a hedonist instantly.
That led to years of seeking out road trips centered around good food at rural grocery stores and soul-food kitchens as well as "off the eaten track" rough diamonds scattered across southwest Louisiana.
After years of working as an award-winning reporter herself, claiming that I had "put the pen" in her hand, she recently opened "Saints Street Inn," a critically acclaimed restaurant in Lafayette. I haven't been there yet, but it's not because I don't want to expose my "big bang heart" she knows so well. It's because, in part, I've tasted most of her specialties with just her and I at the table, or tree stump. Those years have become akin to dreams, and that's one thing I can't surrender. Sometimes, it's all a guy's got left to lose. Update: I have been told that Mary sold out her half of the restaurant because, for one thing, it had eliminated leisure time in her life, which is as important to her as it is to many Europeans, particularly Italians and Spaniards.
Now she reportedly is marketing Louisiana alligator products, hiring tanners and artisans to produce belts, purses, wallets, etc. If you know Mary, it makes sense that she has chosen a sustainable resource. Just ask Wayne Sagrera at Sagrera Alligator Farm in Big Woods south of Abbeville. Gator farming has made the big reptiles as sustainable as pine trees. Perhaps Mary will, if she hasn't already, contact Kathy Richard in Abbeville to sell some of Kathy's Swamp Ivory alligator jewelry. It's lovely stuff. One of my favorite stored impressions of Mary is the line of her jaw when she got determined about something. My best wishes go out to her for success and happiness in her life.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)