Good Friday Fish Fry

Good Friday, March 21, 2008

Big Man and I spent a totally enjoyable and nostalgic two-plus hours at Dooky Chase for the traditional Maundy Thursday gumbo d'zerbes lunch in the Gold Room -- the old original Main Dining Room. (I'd write more about that great event, except what is there to say? I laughed, I cried, I saw folks I hadn't seen in 15 years, I ate the best green gumbo ever, I hugged Ms. Leah Chase, and I gave thanks once again to be finally home. For the rest of you who haven't been yet, Dooky Chase's dining room is now open for the first time since Katrina, and everything looks just as it should.)

With that as an intro to the Easter weekend, we looked forward to Good Friday. And when it arrived, it was gorgeous -- full sun, high deep blue sky, gentle breeze, temperatures that started off cool but warmed up as the day went on, the kind of day you wish the Tourist Commission could bottle and send around the country at this time of year. (Ironically, and amusingly, the local weatherman Dan Milham refused to give the day a rating of "10," demoting it to a "9" because, he said, it was too cool in the morning to be a 10! Now that's funny.)

Since both of us ended up with commitments during the day, we did not follow the old custom of visiting 9 churches, but I know, given Big Man's love of fine church architecture and decoration, that we will have to do next year if we can. We got together in the beautiful afternoon, and spent some time out and about, marveling about the weather. Late in the day, we attempted some Easter shopping, but could hardly find any parking. It was so packed, we abandoned the effort, thinking we could take care of it on Saturday instead.

Big Man had gotten a call earlier in the week for a some kind of gig on Good Friday, to back up Joe "Cool" Davis doing gospel music in the late afternoon/early evening somewhere in Central City. The event was promised to be less than an hour, was a paying gig, and allowed plenty of time for Big Man to make it to his regular gig on Bourbon Street, and so was accepted with alacrity.

We followed the directions we had received, and found ourselves on the corner of Simon Bolivar and Jackson, where one corner boasted the well-known Chicken Shack, and the opposite corner held an open pavilion that before Katrina had been a neighborhood farmers' and fish market. We could see some folks sitting on folding chairs, and a band setting up, so we parked the van across the street and headed over. As we crossed the street, a heavenly aroma wafted over to us -- the unmistakable smell of catfish being perfectly fried. Omigod.

A makeshift stage area had been set up at one end of the pavilion, with folding chairs set up in two sections with a center aisle. The back area had long tables set up with more chairs, so that folks eating would not have to juggle plates on their knees. At the opposite end of the open-air shed from the performing area, there were several tables serving as the food prep section, where several women were putting together catfish dinners: one nice-size fried cat filet, plus a generous scoop of creamy home-made potato salad, a spoonful of green beans seasoned with bacon bits, a chunk of bread, and a piece of yellow cake studded with pecans and topped with a pecan icing, all for $7. What a bargain!

We hardly knew what to do. We had not known anything about the food, and Big Man had eaten dinner before leaving the house. Me, I had promised to have dinner at a parishioner's house, and didn't think it would be cool to show up with no appetite. (And I *knew* better than to attempt to eat two dinners!) So we tried to resist, but it was hopeless, what with having to smell that great smell all during the music, and watching other folks chow down on it in front of us. We simultaneously came to the same compromise -- buy two catfish dinners, and then TAKE THEM HOME FOR LATER. Brilliant!

The event turned out to be a neighborhood Good Friday service and fish fry. All the performers were gospel-oriented, although Joe Cool's contribution was flavored heavily by an R&B/rock'n'roll influence (thus the necessity for a horn line -- in addition to Big Man's trumpet, there were two saxophones). The set started with some instrumental hymns on keyboard with guitar and bass; then there was a blind singer/guitarist, backed up by a lady on the keyboard and an older guy on the drum kit. Next up was an amazing group, consisting of two elderly ladies in matching bright-blue suits, and the 8-year-old great-grand-daughter of one of them in a coordinating royal blue velvet outfit. They were accompanied by the keyboard, and a young boy, maybe 12, on the drums. Their first number was terrific called "Gawd Did It" with the theologically great chorus, "Everything that is good in my life, Gawd did it." By the time they were into the 3rd or 4th verse, the crowd was on their feet, clapping and shouting, raising their hands high, singing along. I have to say I was in that number. They sang two more, and Big Man was predicting big things for the 8-year-old's future.

Then it was time for Joe Cool's set, with Big Man and the other horn players. Joe did his own version of several well-known old hymns -- including an INCREDIBLY hot up-tempo take on "Everlasting Arms" that had all of us shaking, and a "switch" on an old Bobby Blue Bland love song, turned into a hymn of praise to God and Jesus. Despite the lack of familiarity and the absence of charts the horn section did great and received a lot of praise fro the crowd -- Big Man's solo made the back row of chairs stand straight up!

And then, as if it hadn't been great enough already, Joe Cool announced that the next act would be the world-famous and totally-fabulous Zion Harmonizers (unfortunately minus Sherman Washington, who is ill right now, bless him). I could hardly believe this kind of good luck -- the only time I get to see the Zion Harmonizers is at Jazz Fest , once a year, and then only as part of a gigantic crowd in the Gospel Tent (and me usually way in the back). So here I am, one of only 6 white people in a crowd of maybe 60-70, standing a mere 10 feet from one of the greatest gospel groups EVER, who've been together for over 65 YEARS, and they swing into their own arrangement in multipart harmony of "If I Had a Hammer." It was absolutely amazing, a gift.

By now I'm juggling 2 hot catfish dinners in styro containers and Big Man is done and holding his gig bag and the smell is making us crazy, plus we both have other places to go, so we only stayed for one more hymn by the Harmonizers. Then, blessed and happy, like folks who've been to church, we went home. We managed NOT to eat the catfish dinners.