
Speaking of food, we had a recent get-together with a gourmet group, with New Orleans cuisine being on the menu. It was a fun evening and no one went away hungry. The surprise dish of the evening was Gayle's Bananas Foster; it tasted just like the dish served at Brennan's, which coincidentally is where Gayle got the recipe. I may have to take MLB to Brennan's in March when we go to the Crescent City for my 50th high school reunion.
I know, most of you are thinking, "Gee, there's no way that young-looking, handsome Ty graduated from high school almost 50 years ago!" Alas, it is true. I was a real nerd/dweeb back then. (No snickers out there... I have so changed!) Here is a photo from one of my classmates of our graduation (New Orleans Academy, a military prep school; and no, Bob, NOA was not a reform school!). I am the skinny guy, sixth from the left, front row...
One of my classmates asked if everyone could provide a current photo by email. I thought about sending this one, which MLB snapped in a moment of weakness (cruelty?) when I was helping her change out some lampshades; and no, wine was not involved...
Our long-haired miniature Dachshunds, Rudy and Gretchen, are hunters. They don't hunt badgers or rabbits, for which their forbears were originally bred, but they will chase geckos - typically, green anoles (Anolis carolinensis); after all, we do live in Florida, and badgers are few and far between in our neck of the woods. Here we have our fearless marauders executing what they term the "High-Low Attack", adapted from a Navy fighter aircraft maneuver; being longer (if not much taller), Rudy goes high into the bush and chases the target gecko low where Gretchen can dive in and nab him. Fortunately (for the gecko population) only one or two a week are nabbed (a euphemism for "nailed")...
While preparing dinner the other night, I was reminded of one of the darker sides of life in bayou country... Louisiana lobster fights. These gigantic, three foot long crustaceans (Procambarus clarkii) are put in a ring like fighting roosters, and with loud shouting, even louder zydeco music blaring, and lots of betting, a gladiator-like fight to the death begins. It's particularly sad in that the winner also goes into the pot to be consumed by the ringside audience. I have thought about contacting PETA about staging a demonstration in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, the center of this activity, to protect the little critters...
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