Category Archives: New Orleans

New Orleans, Take Ten: The Food

As far as I can guess, this was my tenth trip to New Orleans. My office is headquartered there and given time and money, it’s my favorite city to visit.  For once, I had some vacation time saved and headed down last weekend with The Lady, BC, and his gent for five glorious days of debauchery. The weather could have cooperated a tiny bit more, but we still enjoyed highs in the 60′s for most of our visit and very few scattered thunderstorms.

Since I’ve made my rounds in the French Quarter (and outside, guided by locals), here are my recommendations if you get a chance to head down to Louisiana for a getaway of your own.

Food:

New Orleans is as much about food as it is about drinking all night and flashing your boobs at strangers. Everyone goes down expecting to find “where the locals eat” and fill up on gumbo and jambalaya. A little secret- the locals aren’t doing much eating in the French Quarter. Also, you’re not going to “discover” a restaurant there- it is the tourist district and everything is located there specifically so that tourists can find it. Get out of your need to be original and enjoy it anyway. Almost every restaurant in the Quarter serves a version of red beans and rice, jambalaya, gumbo, oysters, po boys, and the like. And having eaten in almost all of them, they are all just fine. Don’t worry that you’re missing a mouth miracle if that’s what you want to eat- just pick one and sit down.

That being said, I usually make time to stop at Le Bayou on Bourbon that first night when I arrive and am too tired to make decisions. They can usually seat you quickly, bring you a giant Abita beer, and serve my favorite po boy in town- fried shrimp and fried green tomatoes with remoulade. If you want something slightly more upscale, Desire: An Oyster Bar, also on Bourbon and connected to the Royal Sonesta Hotel, is the way to go. Their Oysters Desire, with cheese and butter are delicious, even if you don’t like oysters. The shrimp & grits is a favorite, the servings are sizable, and they bring you as much fresh-baked bread as your table can consume (we had four loaves). They also know how to make a great cocktail- I love their Sazeracs. The servers treat you like royalty, which is rare in a restaurant that doesn’t mind if you wear jeans.

If you want to just put a sandwich in your face, Felix’s is a good choice, just off the main drag on Iberville Street. The line for the oyster bar here gets long, but at the tables, you can get a great crawfish po boy and a fried alligator appetizer. It looks like a greasy spoon, but the food (especially the fried stuff) is good eats. If you like your sandwiches with flair, you cannot go wrong at the Royal Street Deli. I had this monster. Twice.

That’s ham, Brie, apples, mustard (and the second time, golden raisins) on a fluffy roll of bread. It is a sandwich that takes two hands to eat. It also comes with a side of sweet potato salad, which I liked- and I hate potato salad. The servers are friendly and we never waited for a seat.

So, now that your tourist food needs in the French Quarter have been met, where should you go if you want to do some exploring?

If you can take just a few steps outside the French Quarter into the Marigny neighborhood, you can eat a platter that will make your face explode at The Praline Connection.  Their “Taste of Soul” platter includes gumbo, red beans & rice, jambalaya, greens, fried chicken, fried catfish, ribs and bread pudding. BC and his Gent shared one and had enough to share the wealth with us. The barbecue sauce on the ribs is the best that I’ve ever tasted and the bread pudding smelled like my first cocktail of the day, in a good way. Gent also ordered their etouffee and oh.my.word. It was the best etouffee I’ve had at any restaurant in New Orleans. Ever. Next time I go back, I’ll order a giant bowl to hoard all to myself. They also have pralines in many flavors to taste (and of course, buy).

If you need a hamburger, the only way to go is to swing by Port of Call on Esplanade. It’s a dark, crowded little spot that smells like hamburger grease, but that’s because hamburgers and steaks are their only menu. That and giant loaded baked potatoes that will rock your world- they do not skimp on the toppings. I was five bites into my potato before I found an actual bite of potato under the cheese and bacon and sour cream and bacon and chives and butter. The burgers are incredible, but if you don’t like it pink, order it medium well or well. My “medium” was way over on the rare side- I didn’t mind, but if a little blood scares you, better safe than sorry. Your other mission while you are here is to order the Monsoon, their insane rum and fruit punch house drink. I am a lady who can hold my liquor, but every time I have one of these, I end up boozed up before I leave their door, with just one. I weave down sidewalks. I end up having to throw away part of it. It’s a strong one. Then again, being hammered might not be your idea of a good time. More for me.

Everyone talks about Antoine’s and Galatoire’s but if I had my choice, my last meal would be at Irene’s Cuisine. This is your “dress up” meal- get out of your tourist jeans and be ready to wait. They almost never take reservations. Brad Pitt would have to wait at this tiny place. Irene herself will greet you at the door many nights- and ask you to wait. But, it will be worth it. For $60- $80, you will eat food that you never thought possible. I had a steak that melted in my mouth and a potato side of thinly sliced, perfectly cooked au gratin that nearly brought me to tears. The story is that Irene and her husband Tommy co-owned the joint until an ugly divorce. She got to keep the restaurant, so out of spite, he opened Tommy’s Cuisine just across town. Tommy’s is bigger, the food is fine, and they take reservations. But it’s nowhere as good as Irene’s. Stick to the original.

Another first come, first served restaurant that is worth every minute waiting is the Green Goddess. This place will ruin other food for you forever. You will dream about soup that you ate there one night.

If you are a travel or food columnist and want to write about the cheese and wine lists here, you will have a winner on your hands. If you are me and show up in blue jeans, a T-shirt, and your beat-up old Converse to sit at a lovely table in the alley courtyard, you will still be greeted by the friendly chef who checks in often to be sure you are still swooning as each course arrives. The Pear 75, with champagne and pear brandy was perfection. Don’t kid yourself and just order an entrée. Go here and order the tasting menu (which changes based on the season). Every single bite that you put in your mouth will be divine. If it happens to be a warm breezy evening and you are full of this food, found tucked away in an alley that you almost didn’t find, you will rate this night one of the best of your life.

Other gems to check out, if you haven’t ruptured something yet: Liborio’s Cuban Restaurant makes a phenomenal flank steak; Zea’s (a local chain) will fill you up with rotisserie and southern style veggies and is a great excuse to hop on the St. Charles streetcar for $1.25.  If you need some gelato like nobody’s business, hop on over to La Divina Gelateria- I had Creole cream cheese flavor and lapped it up after a big lunch- it was too good to waste. You have to go to Cafe’ du Monde, because it’s some kind of tourist law, but if you care more about coffee than beignets, I choose Community Coffee. I used to order 5 lbs. of their coffee and chicory shipped to my house every month or so when my budget allowed- it’s the only coffee I’d have mailed to me. If you live in the South, you are lucky and can buy their chicory coffee right on your grocery store shelves. I pick it up when I head back to visit the family.

So, what have I missed? Any New Orleans favorite dining spots that you can’t wait to get back to?

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Filed under New Orleans, Photos, Reviews, Travel

Oh, and Did I Mention I Have A New Tattoo?

We’ve been talking about it for years and we finally broke down after six days in New Orleans and did it. We both love the city like a home and this was our third trip down together. BC and I have…. wait for it…. matching tattoos.

Yes. I am practically 33 years old (one week to go) and I and my gay best friend of the last ten years got matching tattoos.

Wanna see?

And no, for those of you with dirty minds, it is not in an intimate location- just on my left side below the armpit, an inch or so below the bottom of the bra-line.  Which come to think of it is fairly intimate… I mean I don’t run around with my ribs exposed much. And it’s tiny. About an inch or so high. But I love it. And when it stops looking all new and scabby, maybe I’ll have more reason to show off my ribs- if I can even find a flattering option to do that… ok, not likely.

And maybe there are no such thing as friend vows, but this is mighty permanent. This Christmas, this is enough.

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Filed under Daily Life, Friends, New Orleans, Relationships, Travel

Scared Sober

Generally, I am a very well-behaved work traveller. I fly in, do my job, try to eat something delicious and local, and possibly hit up happy hour with local friends or colleagues. This was not the case last Wednesday. The evening started out as usual, running out to do some shopping in New Orleans for chicory coffee and gifts in the Quarter as soon as work let out for the day.

And then, as I had just decided to go back to the hotel and get some much-needed sleep, I ran into a group of colleagues who were hitting the town and hitting it hard. They asked me to join them for a drink, so we meandered to the next bar and had two drinks each. Those led to some dancing, and a few more. Which led to a few more. Finally around midnight, I decided I needed to toss myself in a cab and head back the 20 blocks or so to the hotel.

But, my perfect plan was thwarted by a very persistent male colleague. He insisted that we walk back to the hotel, together, making some noise about how it would help us sober up, what a nice night, etc. And then, when I wanted to get a cab anyway, he teasingly insisted on carrying my purse and shopping bag back for me. He was so persistent, and my naive self decided he must be the one making better decisions, so away we went headed to the hotel.

But somewhere along the way, I got an odd sense that all was not as it should be. I pretended to dip into  a hotel to use the restroom and snuck out the back door- only to realize that he still had my purse and bags and I had no money to get a cab, or even a cell phone to call anyone with. When I rounded the building, he had ambled on, but there I was. Drunk alone after dark- with no keys to my hotel room and at least a mile from the hotel.

My brilliant drunken self decided I could still make it on foot and headed off in the general direction of my hotel, but after a mile had come and gone, I realized I didn’t see anything I recognized anywhere. So, being the powerful woman I am, I promptly sat down on the curb and burst into self-pity tears. Having sobbed it out of my system, I trekked on, but by the time I realized where I had gone wrong, I was at least 15 blocks off course. By 2 am, I wandered into the h0tel lobby, face streaked with mascara tears, begged the front desk for a key to my room (which they kindly granted), called my friend S and left a tear-filled voicemail explanation that I had lost my phone and was all alone in the world and crawled into bed.  

By daybreak, I regained a little more equilibrium. I pulled my aching self out of bed, got washed and dressed for the workday, and made a call to my colleague’s room to see if he still had my things- no answer. As I was just about to walk out the door, my hotel phone rang. The front desk said some man was down there claiming to have my purse. I assumed they were confused and it was my co-worker. Nope. It was a guy who apparently lived nearby. He had found my purse outside his house because my 6:00 am alarm was still set from the day before and he heard it beeping. Inside- my id, my hotel key card (which he used to figure out where I was staying), my credit card, cash, and my cell phone. The only thing missing, unfortunately, was my six month old digital camera. I thanked him profusely and offered him cash, which he declined… because he was clearly a saint from heaven.

After a meeting, I ran into my other co-workers looking somewhat hungover, minus my walking “friend”. They asked if I knew what had happened to him. He had apparently woken up in his room covered with mud, scratched up and with a gash on his forehead. He also claimed to have no idea how it happened. He made himself scarce for the rest of the conference, and I called him to see if he had my other bag. Nope. And in his recollection, he had never had it.

The best I can figure out, working it out with S by phone and with much more mature and sober eyes, he had plans to put the moves on me when we left (which my naive self never considered). Why else would he try to get me alone from the group and then insist on walking instead of letting me pay for a cab like I wanted to? And then, after I ditched him, he apparently either stumbled around, losing my things, and fell or picked a fight, resulting in his injuries.

All this is a scary reminder of how very lucky I was this didn’t turn out any worse and how I’m grateful that I trusted my own instincts enough to get away from him, even if it meant wandering around for hours and losing my camera. The co-worker? It’ll be too soon if I never hear from him again. Luckily, we work in different states and rarely see each other or have any projects in common, so avoidance won’t be a challenge.

For now, you can find me at the bar- sipping a Diet Coke. It’s not forever, but unless I’m with very responsible friends or in my own home, for now, I feel a bit safer that way. And as lucky as I was, I don’t want to test my luck again.

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Filed under Building a Better Me, New Orleans, Soul Searching, Travel, Working for a Living

Things- My Life in Lists

My journal recently seems to be filling up with lists on various topics. Here’s some overflow.

Things to Do

  • Plan travel to San Francisco in May- things to see, places to eat/ drink
  • Mail check to buy tickets for show with BC
  • Buy beach towels, flip-flops, sunscreen for Florida vacation
  • Clean the kitchen and entryway so the landlord can come fix the heat for the second time.
  • Buy groceries so I can stop living on leftover takeout and save money.
  • Pay the gas bill before vacation and mail the rent check out.

Things Learned

  • If I am bored, invite people to do things and they will come, instead of just waiting for someone to call with a plan.
  • Never volunteer to work “just a little” on vacation- unplug.
  • I am not the only person in America who was sick of the blind guy on American Idol.
  • Completing one task that needs done first thing in the morning at work makes me look productive, no matter what I do all afternoon.

Things about Me

  • I much prefer reading Craft (RIP) or ReadyMade to reading Elle Decor because I am much more likely to make something or fix up a piece of furniture than spend more than $200 on home goods.
  • Foaming self-tanner is a better moisturizer than the lotion, but doesn’t cover as evenly and takes longer for the color to appear.
  • No matter how many times I say I will get up early to do something before work, I will not. The snooze button is too tempting.
  • I almost never just have one drink when I say I am going out for one, so I either need to stop lying to myself, or learn to leave after one instead of three.
  • I pack entirely too much into my carry-ons and then am miserable lugging fifty pounds of junk through the airport. Checked bag fees are worth the increased comfort sometimes.

Things Coming Up

  • Seeing Angels in America with BC.
  • Seeing a drag show in a church with BC.
  • Trips to Cocoa Beach, San Francisco, Oklahoma City, and New Orleans (twice).
  • My Dad’s birthday- for which I need quickly to obtain an awesome gift and feel guilty just falling back on his Amazon.com wish list.

Things to Write About

  • My weird sense that life has moved on without me now that everyone I know seems to be busy being married and parenting.
  • Expanding my short stories into a novel.
  • The bizarre job history which has essentially recession-proofed me.
  • My fall-back life plan with BC and the possibility of it becoming a reality next year.
  • Trying to successfully plant a garden for once and whether it can be done.
  • Taking the “live on half” Suze Orman pledge and trying to figure out which luxuries to cut to make that happen.

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Filed under Daily Life, Lists, New Orleans, Soul Searching, Travel, Writing

Whisked Away

With all the travel my new job entails, I’m often not sure where I’ll be from week to week. Case in point, yesterday my boss called from New Orleans to ask me to schedule a flight and hotel tout de suite and be in the office down there on Monday morning. Sure. Luckily, the city without care is between festivals, so I tracked down what I’m hoping will be a glam sleeping experience in the Warehouse District.

My last visit, I crashed at Le Pavillon, which was all booked up with a convention for next week. It was lovely for business travel, but honestly, I didn’t care so much about the hotel as the fact that I was in the Big Easy where it was 70 in January, instead of suffering through Pittsburgh snow and ice. This visit should be another welcome weather respite, since it’s still hovering slightly above freezing here and will be in the 70′s in NOLA again. Ahhhhh.

The best dinner I had last time was at Irene’s Cuisine (AHHHmazing), but I’m looking to expand my food horizons past the tourist spots with nothing but gumbo and whatnot on the menu. Anyone have any must eats I may have missed? I have four nights to gorge and would love to eat well.

As for my “life life,” as I like to call anything not work-related, well, there’s not much to report. BC and I hit the town on Saturday night at 2 am just because we could, against our better judgment and had a lovely bourbony night. My apartment is a disaster area, which I would let be, except that my gas heater has mysteriously stopped coming on (even though the hot water and stove still work). This means a visit from the landlord, a man I haven’t set eyes on since I moved in two years ago. In the meantime, I’m bundling up in sweats, and toting a space heater around with me wherever I go.

I’m on a healthy living kick (again), so I stocked up on Whole Foods groceries and actually roasted a delicious chicken for dinner last night, with a side of black rice and fresh carrots with honey. Delicious. And now I need to add the kitchen to my “to clean” areas.

I’ve moved up a haircut for this weekend, so I will either spend Saturday night showing off my new crowning glory or weeping when I go from waistlength (but scraggly) to shoulder-blade length and sleek. There’s only one former drag queen I would trust with such a major endeavor and he’s never steered me and my curly locks wrong, so fingers crossed that it looks as good on my head as it does in my head.

And tonight- tonight BC and I will be at the Carnegie Library (scraggly hair and all) for an event he’s been dying to go to all week. I was equally enthusiastic until I spent last night tossing and turning and this morning cursing the daylight. We’ll see if I can resist BC’s evil tempting ways to lead me astray into cocktailing on a work night…..

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Filed under Daily Life, New Orleans, Travel, Working for a Living