The last time I paid serious attention to an Emeril Lagasse restaurant, Congress was asking Monica Lewinsky to explain the stains on her dress. Polite company should not be forced to discuss such things, so I’ve tried to avoid both subjects since the turn of the century. It’s not that I don’t like Emeril—he’s a charming, generous and funny guy—but the mass appeal of his ingredient-heavy, caloric, fatty, often charmless food is lost on yours truly. When he opened Table 10 in the Palazzo in 2008, two meals there convinced me his food (as it appears outside of New Orleans) was headed straight to Applebee’s land. Then, a month ago, an email arrived from chef Sean Roe that intrigued me …