I'm sure that the first fine meal I ever had in New Orleans was at Brennan's on Royal Street, and that was before the family bought Commander's Palace in the Garden District.  So to be on the safe side, I'll say that was 1954.

And then when I was a student at Tulane University on St. Charles Avenue (circa 1958), I also hosted a radio program, "American Airlines Music 'til Dawn" from a nearby Royal Street furniture store window. That was when I made friends with one of the restaurant's captains.  A fellow named Bill Porter.

Back then it seems that loads of people would order escargot to show off -- snails baked in garlic butter -- but when the dish was served, they wouldn't do much more than dare their dinner guests to try one.  Few did. 

But I loved escargot then as much as I do today.  So this dare benefited me.  Here's how:

Before 9 PM when my show would air on WWL, I would stop by the kitchen door...it was right there on Royal about 30 feet from the restaurant's guest entrance.  One of the kitchen staff would tell Bill I was waiting.  Within moments, he would grab a still hot but untouched plate of escargot from a guest's table, and serve them to me out of the kitchen door along with a loaf of French bread and the left overs from a bottle of expensive wine.

There I would sit on a car fender at the curb, in my tux, eating my escargot and hot, crusty French bread, and sipping what was left from the bottle of wine, white dinner napkin in my lap.  Life couldn't possibly get any better than that for a broke college student.  Of course times changed.  One can no longer drive or park on Royal Street near Brennan's.

Move the clock forward at least thirty years.  My lifelong friend, Victor Damiani and his wife Judy, and Patty and I came up with what would become one of our foursome's traditions. For birthdays and during the Christmas Season, we would dress in our formal attire, dine at Brennan's of Houston, and then go to a play at the Alley Theater or a performance of the Houston Symphony.  What nice celebrations!

Brennan's of Houston for most of its years was managed by Alex Brennan-Martin, the grandson of matriarch Ella Brennan, and while our friendship was at best described as casual, I had known his wife, Jane, for a number of years.  They really made a handsome couple.

So you can only imagine how hard it hit me when I learned that during Hurricane Ike, Bennan's of Houston caught fire from a gas leak, burned to the ground, and seriously injured three of the staff who had stayed behind to look after the place during the storm.

It appears it was totally destroyed.  Two months later, I have not been able to learn whether or not the restaurant will be rebuilt and reopened.  I can assure the Brennan family that it would be difficult to find a solitary soul who ever ate there who isn't praying for its return.

I'm one of those.

BILL CHERRY, REALTORS

DALLAS

Our 44th Year Selling America

214 503-8563

800 314-7110