It’s been a while since my last post and a lot of incredible things have happened since then. I’ll have to fast forward and skip the first 12 parts and get to the point of “incredibleness”!!!   The Dinner of the Decade!!!  Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud, Jerome Bocuse and yours truly, September 14th at Stella.  Read about it here.

I now more than ever understand the saying that the grass is always greener on the other side. It seems we’re always wishing we were there instead of here, thinking how much happier we would be if in fact we could escape our present landscape.  I moved around quite a bit in the beginning of this year, going from place to place, conducting various forms of business.  I do enjoy the excitement of constant changes, but sometimes it’s nice to stop and smell the roses in your yard.

NYC, Here We Come!

After settling back down at home and beginning a season change, lots of local activities kept me busy and full of anticipation.  We had the James Beard fundraiser event, which was a huge success and lots of fun.  The following day, we received our nomination!  It seemed that another moment had arrived and it was time once again to step it up to the next level. I realized that this had become my annual format, as we strive to get much better with no apparent ending in sight. This year seemed to carry much more stress, however, as I felt the strongest pressure to create my evolution.

Stella and Stanley have grown very quickly and we have been blessed with so much business. It has been a challenge to keep up with the pace of that growth. Trying not to overextend our staff and juggling the schedules of our team has become a great test of endurance.  Special events require much planning and lots of employees to spread around when things are rocking and rolling.  Thank God for the team that I have, stepping up to the plate to make it happen as they always seem to do.  Even with all of that support, I felt stressed and about to snap. I needed a break so I took off on a quest for serenity.

We were invited to a dear friend’s home in Breaux Bridge for their annual crawfish boil. I am sure that most people who are not from here think of Louisiana in the context of New Orleans.  Although New Orleans is quite a gem in our boot shape of a state, there’s so much more to us than this famous metropolis. Breaux Bridge and other small towns are just some of the places that have so much to offer throughout our state.

Tanya and I planned our journey to the bayou and anticipation filled my soul.  I figured while in that neck of the woods, I would accept another invitation from a friend, Louisiana legacy, Paul McIlhenny, to come explore his wonderful sanctuary of Avery Island. The plans were all made, calendars were set and a mini-getaway trip was unfolding.

The morning finally came to leave and it was time to get away in the backyard of our great Louisiana.  Tanya packed our overnight bags and we set off into the land of what we call the heart of Acadiana.  It is truly a special place in time that has not been too disrupted by the fast pace of everyday life.  It’s a place that takes its time to enjoy each and every moment for its unique contribution to our world.

Charlie T's - Breaux Bridge, LA

We met our friend, Ann Theriot, and her mother, “Miss Hazel,” at Charlie T’s to pick up some boudin and cracklins.  This little hole-in-the-wall place is actually a temple in the downtown area of a small piece of heaven called Breaux Bridge.  Ann wanted me to try some different types of boudin, so we went from place to place. I was amazed at how many places there were.

We crossed the Breaux Bridge on the way to her house, where her father, Roy Theriot, had begun to boil the water.  He had crawfish that looked like baby lobsters purging in big blue buckets.  “Miss Hazel” joined his side, as I’m sure she’s done for decades, and the two worked in harmony to prepare the feast. First potatoes, then the corn were prepared and seasoned. Then the moment of the first batch had arrived.  Wow, these crawfish were going to be good!  The family started arriving, as we were celebrating Ann and Jimmy’s anniversary, and oh, how lucky for Tanya and me to be joining!  It was a moment I had craved and also needed for my mind, to touch the roots of many memories of my own childhood.

Roy handed out aprons for everybody to wear while eating so we wouldn’t have to worry about the mess that would be made.  Crawfish this good require lots of peeling, crushing and sucking the heads, not to mention the Theriots’ special dipping sauce.  We were drinking beer in crawfish heaven, listening to family stories and living moments of bliss each and every second.  The magic moment came when a young man named Jude asked me if I wanted to take a ride on the Kaboda.  Flying through the wheat field with my nine-year-old chauffeur, I had reached the high point of the day.  We cleaned up, packed everything away and settled in for the night, right after stopping at Winn-Dixie for some wine.

We sat at Roy and Hazel’s table in their lovely country home and looked at pictures from long ago, when Roy was in the army. He told stories of the past in a priceless accent, occasionally speaking to Ann in Cajun French. We had wine and looked at more pictures of Ann and Jimmy’s wedding, which we had attended. We realized that time really goes by quickly and that we should enjoy it.  We retired into the guesthouse in a very comfortable bed for a remarkably restful night of sleep.

We woke up the next morning, packed our bags to head to Avery Island, sure not to miss Miss Hazel’s famous breakfast. I tell you this: I could get used to those breakfasts and for them it is the norm. She commented it couldn’t compare to the fare at Stanley. I’ll have to tell you, Stanley’s good, but if I had to choose, I’d have breakfast from Miss Hazel everyday – homemade biscuits, eggs and sausage, fruit and orange juice – all in a setting that is priceless.  Those are moments in our lives that keep me going, because they are the purest forms of pleasure.  We finished the great beginning of this next glorious day and set off to Part Two of our adventure.

I’ll have to admit that I’m a little embarrassed that I was born in Louisiana and at 48 years of age I was making my first trip to Avery Island, one of our state’s greatest legacies.  It is a true testament of success that it is still family-run in their seventh generation.  Mr. Paul McIlhenny, who runs the show of this generation, greeted us and my dream tour had begun.  He drove us around all of the private parts of the island, sharing places of his history that touched our soul in a way that can’t be explained.  He took us into a greenhouse of seedlings that were almost ready for the ground and personally dug out two plants to transfer to my garden. My mind was about to explode with the excitement of such a special gift from this hero.

We had lunch in the Avery Island deli, where we joined a second guide, Dave, eating more boudin, deer sausage and Tabasco products.  It’s like an island lost in time.  Behind the scenes, though, it’s very modern, as their production is a mind-blowing success.  We tasted mash from Whiskey barrels from a barrel master who had been there 42 years and we got the tour of a lifetime.  We went through production lines, watching modern machinery do its magic of producing, packaging and shipping their product to disperse to the world. The order board was quite an amazing sight, with more than 140 countries and labels in all languages.

We finished up in the “Jungle Gardens,” where the azaleas were in full bloom and egrets were mating.  It was fun, with Tanya yelling, “The sign says not to feed them,” as I fed the hungry alligator some Tostitos.  We finished up and headed back toward New Orleans, where we’d left, only to realize what a beautiful backyard we had.  It was a trip of great relaxation.  We had reclaimed sanity in its purest form, truly two days in paradise.

Our last stop was on the side of Interstate-310 to get some local Louisiana strawberries for our restaurant.  What a great trip it was! What a great backyard we have here in Louisiana!

Landing in Miami, our car awaited and our journey of mystery continued.  We arrived at the hotel, the beginning of a madhouse, and I called to find our waiting ticket package.  I parted with my beloved staff for the day, planning a rendezvous sometime around midnight.  Tanya and I met up with Rita’s assistant and she escorted us to her room, where more friends and Champagne were waiting.

We had a package with many badges, tailgate parties, then side-line passes with suite tickets that were mind-blowing.  It was overwhelming that this could possibly be true, but the fast pace of our journey continued.  We toasted Champagne and relocated to our first giant tailgate party, with bountiful buffets and thousands of different people.  There were Mr. and Mrs. Benson with so many familiar others, and I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

Tanya & the Pregame Party

Shortly after, we moved by buses on our police-escorted journey to the stadium, where history awaited.  There was another tailgate VIP tent, where we gathered for more cocktails, getting to know our new group of friends.  There were 16 of us in all who would share a magical suite and enjoy what would prove to be the best day of a lifetime.

We were escorted through lines of the media to awaiting golf carts that would escort us to the sideline.  It was like a fantasy and it was happening so fast, but I tried to film and document each and every moment.

I have to say that I’ve had some pretty exciting moments in my life, but I can’t really compare anything to what it felt like, walking out onto the field of the Super Bowl.  We had to concentrate and stay together, because it was all happening so fast and we didn’t want to get lost, much less separated.

We took pictures of our group. I shook hands with Archbishop Greg Aymond, Governor Bobby Jindal, James Carville, … the list keeps on going.  The moment arrived for us to go to our suite, and the game that we had lived for was about to begin.  We arrived at our seats with a group of people with whom we had formed lasting friendships during the previous games that had led to this big moment.  We sat with Sister Mary Rose, Sister Andrew, Mr. James Carville and Mary Matalin, Harry Connick Jr. and others.

We won the toss and the game began.  Our long journey started, with our hopes of winning on the fence post.  It was closer than we wanted, but at least we were not losing.  Overtime seemed inevitable.  The Colts were about to score.

The Bos!

Then, the greatest pass of the game occurred and an interception that was run back for a touchdown!  Tanya ran and jumped into my arms and we all cried with joy, as we celebrated and quickly started moving back toward the sidelines for the victory.  It was as blissful as it gets, watching the victory we’d all ached for, and it was real beyond any shadow of a doubt.  There were cameras everywhere, players searching for their families; it was crazy as good-crazy ever gets.  Finally, we followed Mr. Benson through seas of people working their way to waiting escorts.

We boarded our bus to return to the after-party, again not knowing what to expect.  Rita told me earlier in the game that the nine-liter bottle of Champagne was on ice and waiting back at the hotel.  We sat patiently as we waited for what seemed to be an eternity, not knowing what was going on, but it did not matter.

All of a sudden, onto our bus walked Reggie Bush, who had been inside finishing interviews, and Kim Kardashian with her mother.  At this moment, I stopped asking questions and would continue going with the flow.  We had won the Super Bowl and it could not get better.

We were escorted back with the team and second-lined through the crowds.  It was like a dream that was really happening.  We started drinking more and more and joined our new friends at Rita’s table.  I knew I had to contact our pilots, who were waiting.  I asked them if we could “pretty, pretty please” move our flight later, as the party was just starting, and they agreed.

We partied late into the night.  All of a sudden, out came the big bottle of Champagne that we had sent.  Rita got up on the stage and announced the bottle was from us, thanking Stella and Stanley restaurants for our contribution.  Coach Payton struggled with the cork and summoned all of the players as they gathered, trying one by one to get it open.  As I suspected that it would, the cork finally broke and Rita summoned me to the stage to get it open.  I got a corkscrew from the hotel’s sommelier and the three of us bent down.  Together, we twisted the corkscrew, popping it open.  Coach Payton sprayed the crowd then drank from the bottle.  The dream of all dreams had gotten bigger.

Finally, the moment came and we had to say good-bye, because our captains where waiting at the airport to fly us home.  We boarded all on fire, with our party still going, only to arrive sound asleep, as we were exhausted.  What a dream beyond a dream, and the greatest day of all going into Mardi Gras.  The city was ignited.

Bless You Boys!

The rest seems like a blur as the restaurants both were hopping all week long, never slowing a bit.  We had a house full of so many wonderful people for Valentine’s Day and the magic kept flowing until the wee hours as we played “Stand Up & Get Crunk” that night at Stella and all the next day at Stanley.

My weary body was running out of steam.  I collapsed sometime the next day, sleeping through most of Fat Tuesday. Tanya woke me later that afternoon.  We had met new friends from New York and somehow lost them in all the bliss, but eventually reconnected with them.

All in all, what a week, what a month and most of all what a great beginning of a new year.  Now it’s time to return to work and get this business jamming.  We’re charged with an energy this city’s never had. We are truly powered more than life and now it’s time to take it all the way. So what’s next, God only knows, but our stars are lined and shining and our future, I can’t wait to live and share. Wow, the New Orleans Saints are the Super Bowl champions of the world; How much better could it ever possibly get?

Thank you all–especially my staff, who have made this all possible.  Dreams really do come true, and here’s to 2010, this new year of greatness.  Thank you, thank you, thank you and thank you.  We love you all for your support and all your greatness. Look out 2010, here we come!

The excitement in the city as each day passed leading up to the Vikings’ game was at its highest level ever in all of New Orleans’ history.  I knew this time, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we would win the biggest game and would be Super Bowl-bound.

I contacted a new dear friend, Rita Benson LeBlanc, and asked her if she knew where we could find tickets to the Saints-killing-the-Vikings game that was coming the next Sunday.  She responded that she would take care of it, and my heart pounded faster than ever.

Anticipation day after day, wondering where we would sit or what to wear were crazy feelings of excitement never felt before in all of my life.  When Rita’s assistant gave me a call and told me my tickets were ready to be picked up, my heart started pounding again.  I called Tanya and told her I had a surprise and would pick her up in 15 minutes.  She doesn’t like surprises, but I’m the king of giving great ones, and she questioned me the whole time I was driving.  As we neared Saints’ headquarters, she finally guessed our destination.

Prior to our three losses, we had tickets compliments of Rita to the New England game.  We had sideline pre-game passes and club-level seats with visiting passes to her suite during halftime.  I had told Tanya that it could never get any better than that, and we were spoiled for the rest of our lives.  This game against the Vikings symbolized the most important game we had ever played with home-field advantage.

I entered to the counter, where the envelope with my name on it waited patiently for me to arrive and pick it up.  I hoped with all my heart as I slowly tore it open, only to see the dream admission package once again.  We had pre-game sideline passes and tickets to Rita’s suite, which blew my mind and almost reduced me to tears.  Now our minds had but one thing of prime focus and that was this all-important game.

We gave this one great planning, as it would be the game of all games and who could imagine that it could get any better?  I announced that both restaurants would be closed for such an historic event and began dreaming of something I’d almost lost hope for throughout the years.  Sunday came and it was blissful as we waited for the moment to depart and head toward the historical game that evening.

I had cleansed my body that week with no alcohol or food poisons, as I wanted to be in a mindset of pure positive energy.  The morning of the game, I sat on my couch watching Reggie Bush videos, getting my blood pumping wildly and my mind at full throttle.  I listened to “Get Crunked” a thousand times with cold chills running through my spine, waiting for the moment that was soon approaching.

Scott & Tanya - Davenport Lounge

As it came time to start the journey, we decidedto “tailgate” at the Ritz-Carlton in the Davenport Lounge with a bottle of Champagne.  We felt on top of the world and nothing could stop us now. We took Champagne to go and started walking toward our beloved Superdome.  We walked slowly, taking it all in, not wanting to go very fast, and enjoying every second of the journey that was upon us.  We came to the entrance gate and embraced the moment by people-watching before we entered to begin this magical night.

We entered at ground level, where they escorted us to the sidelines and the dream game experience was upon us.  The crowd was overwhelming with a feeling of pure bliss. We

started filming our every historical footstep.  We ran into James Carville, who frequents Stanley. Then there was Rita and Paw-Paw Benson and the magic began again.  All of a sudden there was George Bush Sr. and all of the Secret Service, and holy s__t, it seemed no longer to be real! The Ying Yang twins came walking by and cameras were like bees swarming honey.  We stood there totally in shock as so much was going on.  I shook the hand of George Bush Sr. and I knew that the magic that we had was truly unbeatable.  Simply said, our moment had arrived.

We proceeded up to the suite, where we had our pre-assigned seats sitting next to two dear friends, Rodney and Frances Smith, owners of The Soniat House.  Five seats over to our left was George Bush Sr. and his wife, Barbara Bush.  They sat next to Mr. Benson and his wife, Gayle.  Then, as it seemed beyond belief, in came Kate Hudson to bring her luck to our wonderful stadium.  The cards were set in motion and the game was pure bliss. With so much eye candy, it was hard to keep the focus.  Watching Rita with her Blackberry, acting DJ, playing songs at crucial moments to keep the team and crowd roaring, and also dancing.  The game was tight all the way to the end, going into overtime and ending with the greatest field goal ever kicked in New Orleans Saints’ history.  I cried as we all hugged, knowing in two weeks where we would be, and the joy was as overwhelming as it gets.

We moved to another room with all of Mr. Benson’s and Rita’s guests to drink Champagne and begin the long night of party festivities. The city was on fire and it is all still a blur, ending up home at 5 a.m., opening more Champagne.

We woke up late the next day, exhausted from all of the festivities, with one thing on my mind and that was Stanley bloody marys.  After Stanley, a quick trip to Stella, then off for a celebration dinner of an oyster and crawfish feast at my favorite spot, Acme Oyster House in the French Quarter.  Tanya and I finished with more bloodys at the Carousel Bar and back to bed, as there were plans, great plans, that had to be made.

The next day I asked Tanya what in the world we could get Rita as a gift for the great things she had done for us and for the city.  Tanya replied, what else but Champagne?  What a brilliant idea it was, so my quest began for the special bottle.  I wanted a big one that no one had and my rep from Republic searched the country, finding a nine-liter bottle of Perrier-Jouet in New York.  I said, “Ship it this very instant,” and the bottle began its journey to New Orleans.

We thanked Rita once again for something that was greater than life and asked her where would be the best place for me to get tickets for Miami.  She told me not to worry, that she would help me with the task and my mind was near explosion from excitement.

You have to understand that I grew up in Lake Charles, Louisiana, born in 1961.  I have been a Saints’ fan for as long as I can remember.  I watched Archie Manning as a child and the many others who filled the decades in between.  There were so many people who came and went until this moment with Sean Peyton, Drew Brees and Reggie Bush.  The list is much longer, as this team is the one that we’ve waited all of our lives to have assembled.  I said as a young child that my life would never be complete without a New Orleans Saints’ Super Bowl win.  It was the only thing on my “bucket list” over which I had no control, but our moment had finally arrived.

We put up signs on both restaurants, announcing that we would be closed to celebrate the history that was upon us.  I promised my executive management staff that we were going, and I chartered a private jet. The planning of our trip had fully started.  Shopping for tickets was totally insane, with the prices of admission, but I knew this was important.  I secured my staff’s seats one week prior to the game to scratch one thing off the list of stressful duties.  We’d never been to such an event and didn’t know what to expect.  Surely it couldn’t get any better than before.

I consider myself a master planner and generally enjoy the journey, but this one came with a magnitude of stress.  What would we wear, where were our seats, the same questions we asked before, and I reminded myself, “O ye, of little faith.”  It was going to be perfect, as it already had and I needed to relax and let it happen.  It simply had to be perfect.

The bottle of Champagne took longer than expected, and Rita had already departed for Miami.  I told her I had a special surprise that I had to get to her before the game because of its importance. I told her it was on the way and please confirm when it had arrived so that would be one less thing that I had to worry about.  She had a friend that flew with us and two more for the return and the intensity of the planning was getting exciting.  The two weeks between the games flew by.  I had Champagne for our plane ride and a limo for the day, still not having any idea of what was in store for us.

Early the next morning my executive team and our guest arrived at our house, where Tanya and I were waiting.  We started driving toward our plane, which turned out to be a new Hawker XP 850–we had been upgraded!  So the magical day had begun as we boarded on our bird, and our captains greeted us graciously.  We took off toward Miami, drinking our Champagne. Look out Miami… here comes the Who Dat Nation!

I know it’s been some time since the last time I posted.  Many of you may have already figured out that my life is somewhat random collections of spur-of-the-moment decisions connected by two very popular restaurants that keep it all in perspective.  I really have no idea anymore of what I want or where I’m going. I’m just living as though each day is my last and figuring it out as I go.  Having lived beyond my original life expectancy and with more than I ever dreamed of, I figure life at this point is a little something extra in Louisiana, known as “lagniappe.”

The last six weeks have been like a dream that’s never happened in our city and the ride was beyond all imagination.  Each day of every week counting down to the magical day of the Super Bowl contained crucial moments in between that could mark the end of the dream that we’d all pinned our hopes on. We tried to keep on living normally as much as we could, so as not to get our hopes too high, just to get let down as we have for so many years.

Chef Sean Brock

Last year was so intense, with the fruit of so much bounty and our Saints finishing 2009, 13-0.  This was a record never done before and it gave us a taste of something great.  It was scary to think that it could end.  We tried to keep our heads on straight, knowing that the odds were still very strong that our run would soon end and things would return to normal.

Three losses in a row were taken as a blow but our hopes were still high.  I needed to get away and do what I do when I am stressed: cooking in a kitchen, where I can achieve true separation.  I called Chef Sean Brock at McCrady’s in Charleston, S.C., and requested to come spend a day in his kitchen. This was our first time traveling to Charleston, where the red carpet rolled out and the good times started rolling.  We had dinner at the Charleston Grill on our first night and we stayed at the very comfortable Charleston Place.

I spent the next day in Chef Brock’s kitchen, watching the magic of his craft, learning as much I could take in.  His staff was friendly and informative, showing the highest level of southern hospitality I’d ever experienced.  That night, we gathered after work, when we all drank together and Chef Brock introduced me to the world of great bourbon.  After finishing the party in our room at nearly 5 a.m., we retired and slept all day, until the moment of the feared unknown outcome.

We woke up early that afternoon with great nervousness and anticipation of the game.  We wanted more than anything in the world for a victory so we could keep on going.  We were to have dinner at McCrady’s that night and wanted it to be a celebration dinner, not one of mourning, as we sampled Chef Brock’s creations.

The game was like a dream, as the Saints tore up the Cardinals, playing truly like the Super Bowl champs that we’d longed for.  With adrenaline flowing in our veins, we ventured to McCrady’s for a celebration dinner that we will remember forever.  Chef Brock is truly an artist, spontaneously creating dishes for Tanya and me, and we lived magically from course to course, not wanting it to end.

We drank Champagne then moved to Burgundy, where we spent the rest of the night, until we returned again to the bar of friendly bourbon.  His gracious staff stayed up all night and celebrated with us until the early morning.  We ended up in one of Sean’s favorite bars, which was covered with dollar bills.  The serenity of the night was overwhelming.  I told him he was a rock star and he replied, “Never; I’m just a good ’ole country boy,” and I have to say that that’s a great thing to be.

We drank again till early morning and said our farewells. We woke up the next day to return home to our growing heaven and the Dallas loss iced the cake. We were going to play the Vikings. This was now the game of all games, since if we won we were going to the Super Bowl! I knew I just had to go to that game!

At this point the city was pretty much on autopilot, waiting for the game that stood between us and the historical moment that we’d all lived for for 43 years.