What an amazing Sunday this has been. Before we get into too much detail, I want to lift up lsunurse in our prayers today. She is going through an extremely difficult time and we need to be there for her.

I received a phone call early this morning from one of the few people in real life I consider a friend. He drives for RTA -- I first met him on the St. Charles streetcar -- and he will one day, if I ever can get that 350 fixed, be the driver for TulaneLSU's Poorboy Tours of New Orleans. He invited me to his church out in New Orleans East and lunch afterward. I gladly accepted the kind offer. Church was splendid and you may well read about that in a forthcoming post. Afterward, my friend took me to eat at his favorite restaurant in Kenner: Golden Corral.

How in the world is this place not the talk of the town? I don’t recall a single poster raving about this restaurant. Is it because it’s way out in Kenner? Because you too haven’t heard of it? Or because you’re embarrassed to eat at a buffet, which can encourage the temptation of gluttony? Whatever the reason, I’m here to let you in on this secret.

Walking through the threshold from cash register to an arcade of every food under the sun was a revelation. Surely my eyes showed the Eureka moment to the grill master. The same sort of expression Thomas Watson had when he heard, “Mr. Watson, come here. I want to see you” from Alexander Graham Bell’s first phone call. Why was this beatific vision withheld from me all this time? The only chain restaurants Mother allowed us to visit were the Houston’s on St. Charles and the Piccadilly on Jefferson. She said, “The people who eat at chains have no class,” and left it at that. We were left to assume, like good children, that she was correct. For so many years, I looked down on chains and those who frequent them. And for what? Whose benefit was that snobbery? Certainly not mine. My therapist suggests that my love of Domino’s is an act of rebellion against Mother. Possible, but too many others agree with me that Domino’s is wonderful. But this bigoted snobbery hid from me the glories of The Brass Bell Bakery, Lighthouse Bay, The Hacienda, The Grill House, and so much more.

Eating at Golden Corral on a Sunday for lunch brought back memories of standing in line at the Piccadilly we would occasion after church: busy, loud, rushing servers, hot foods on buffet lines, men and women decked in their Sunday best. I heard a crowned mother discussing with her children the Sunday sermon -- that God wanted them to succeed and be champions. To me, it was a bit heavy on the prosperity gospel which seeps into American Christianity far too often. There was another elderly man, who recognized a neighbor and began riddling them with what I found to be great jokes. “What’s one thing that goes up and never comes down?” I scrolled my brain waves and all I could think was our prayers to God. He belted out, “Your age!” I quietly laughed at my table across the way.

I sampled over 50 varieties of food and I didn’t even get to half the buffet offerings, much less the salad bar. While I cannot yet lay claim to being a GC expert, I will record my thus far Top 10 from Golden Corral. Please feel free to critique, suggest, and add your own.

10. Sauteed fresh white button mushrooms

The last time I was at Gibson’s in Chicago, I had a side of sauteed mushrooms, the best of that genre I’ve had. Until today. The mushrooms were delectable, seasoned perfectly with salt and soaked gently in a butter bath. I sliced them tableside and shook with pleasure as I chewed.

9. Pulled pork

I don’t really like BBQ because
BBQ is not a NOLA thing. Even so, I will say the pulled pork was tasty, much better than what you get at The Joint.

8. Oven roasted turkey

I know, I know, Thanksgiving is right around the corner. I even put my 22 lbers in the fridge this morning to begin the slow defrosting time. Turkey is becoming a popular conversation topic on TD with threads on turkey prices and Bates House of Turkey. I can say that GC’s turkey hit just the right flavor notes while maintaining that delicate balance of dry moistness that makes turkey unique among the birds.

Every time I eat turkey I think of that ending scene in the original Jurassic Park. You know, the one with the pelicans flying. The director is alluding to the evolutionary theory that birds are relatively direct descendants of the dinosaur. I thought, "Am I eating a dinosaur's cousin right now?" as I chewed. A strange thought, but a thought I needed to share.

7. Whole fried catfish

You pay a premium at GC for Sunday lunch, but you get premium entree offerings like the whole fried catfish. I was duly impressed with flakey white meat with an excellent batter. Middendorf’s could learn from their fry chef.

This post was edited on 11/17/19 at 5:44 pm