Super Sunday Comes Early thanks to Sean Cummings and John Bennett
Last Sunday started as so many I’ve mine do…at 11 a.m. Big day ahead. Sean Cummings Pub “wake,” San Diego Chargers game and The Cellar Restaurant at Hightower retrospective hosted by Paseo Grill that evening.
We made it to the pub about 1:30, the crowd was late-arriving. Sean was bouncing off the emptied walls, thanking those in attendance while actually trying to get moved from one space to another.
Cathy Cummings, who now is her husband’s de facto landlord, was telling the story of Sean getting kicked out of the Vatican in a dispute over confession etiquette. By 2 p.m., the bagpiper was playing “Danny Boy.” Sean raised a toast to the old spot, the band played “Parting Glass.” Then the piper led the ramshackle crowd clad in black the one and half miles south down N. May Avenue, snarling Sunday drivers and drawing a gentle nudge grassward from a uniformed officer of the local constabulary. The party sallied forth to 6 p.m. when the beer taps ran dry and the bottles of Jameson emptied.
Alas, another celebration of ancestry beckoned, its prominence illustrated by the sweet sorrow of our parting. Bonny an afternoon as it was, the majesty promised in the night ahead was delivered in full.
When Frank Hightower made his mind up to do something, he spared no expense to ensure the pursuit wrought perfection, according to his widow, Dannie Bea. When her husband resolved to convert his tea room in the Hightower Building into a world-class restaurant, he contacted this country’s foremost gourmand. Namely, James Beard.
Beard only knew one other Okie, a young culinary student he’d connected with his good friends Paul and Julia Child– young man from Healdton called John Bennett. Though Bennett assured Beard that no one in Oklahoma was capable of appreciating the French cuisine that their mutual friend Julia Child had made all the rage in discerning kitchens, Beard refused to let Frank Hightower down. Rather than listen to his young and clearly ignorant ward, he convinced young Bennett to meet with Hightower. From that meeting came Oklahoma’s first restaurant of truly fine dining.
“It was opulent,” Dannie Bea Hightower told me. “It was lush with its draperies and Dansk plates, almost regal.”
The restaurant would stay open another 21 years. And almost 30 years later, it would open once again. This was the menu:
Reception: Francois Montand Blanc de Blanc, The Cellar Gin Gimlet.
First course: Sampler of Cellar specialties, including New England Clam Chowder, Grilled Corned Beef Sandwich, Chicken Salad and Shrimp de Jonge paired with Ancien Chardonnay.
Second course: The Cellar Salad with Vinaigrette and Parmesan Cheese Toast. Paired with Cliff Lede Sauvignon Blanc.
Third course: Filet of Beef Lucius Beebe with Wild Rice Pilaf, braised Belgian Endive, Tomato stuffed with Celeriac Puree and paired with David Bruce Petite Syrah.
Fourth course: Rolling dessert cart sampler, including Mama Bennett’s 4-Layer Coconut Cake, Ouefs a la Neige, Trifle Chantilly and Mousse Au Chocolate with Whipped Cream paired with Tiamo Prosecco and Dark Roast Coffee with Cinnamon stick, Chocolate Covered Espresso Beans and Sugar Cube.
And I was there, listening to stories of those that frequented the city’s finest restaurant in its heydey. I didn’t see a single frown at any point in almost three hours. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t any. Those seated with me got to see me frown when, while chewing a delicious bite of Filet of Beef Lucius Beebe, someone said something that made me laugh, and I breathed in the slice of tender beef an instant to early.
Swallowing delicious bites of food too rapidly isn’t foreign to me. But this sensation was. When I tried to politely swallow harder, it only seemed to spin somewhere north of my esophagus. A hint of panic in my heart, I made for the nearby front door the way Penny the Beagle makes for unmonitored trashcans.
Once outside, it was clear I was choking. I fought back the impulse to panic, and thought back to Mama Cathey’s strict instruction on the Heimlich Manuever when it came into vogue in 1974 (or was it 75?). I pressed my thumbs together and pressed upward in the area of my lower diaphragm, and….POP goes the Beebe.
And I alone lived to tell it. Furthermore, the convenience of a vegetarian wife reared its lovely head, as I was able to supplement what I’d lost with what she couldn’t bear to eat.
Beyond that embarrassing bit of sniffing the hereafter, I was treated to a meal brilliant in flavor and artistry and the privilege to share in the celebration of Mr. Hightower and chef Bennett. The lump crabmeat in portobello topped with gruyere was succulent and rich. The corned beef sandwich made my omnivore wife carniverate. So did the chicken salad. The clam chowder was soul-soothing. And of course the dessert cart offerings were decadent and delicious. When the chocolate mousse accidentally danced with Mama Bennett’s Coconut Cake, I swallowed the evidence before scandal could take root.
Iguana Mexican Grill and Table One chef Ryan Parrott helped Paseo Grill chef Jason Heald on Sunday, reporting that he spent most of his time in the kitchen getting yelled at by chef Bennett.
Bennett addressed the accusation during dinner, saying, “Ryan is going around telling people I brow-beat him, and it’s true. But just let me say, I enjoyed it.”
In a room full of smiles, no one smiled broader or longer than Paseo Grill owner Joe Jungmann. The restaurant he closes every Sunday was at capacity. Demand for more compelled he and chef Bennett to repeat the event on Monday for another full house. His over-acheiving staff performed impeccably, and his restaurant staged one of the city’s most memorable command performances.
Mrs. Hightower spoke glowingly, “Paseo Grill, is one of our favorite places to eat, and we just love Joe and are so happy he and John were able to come together to create such a magical and memorable night.”
So memorable a night that when I learned my beloved Chargers had lost against the underdog New York Jets, I didn’t bother watching the game on DVR. No, I just went to bed.
Before dozing into the sleep of the dead, I couldn’t help but wonder if fate would’ve been kinder to the Chargers had my mother been give a chance to give kicker Nate Kaeding the same Heimlich primer she’d given me.
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[...] was a fantastic time. Co-worker Dave Morris caught some phenomenal video of the event. Check it out here. If tonight’s festivities are a fifth of that chilly January afternoon, it will be a truly [...]