New Awleans, a chronicle of food and drink
Last week was a week of Southern decadence and decay. I was up to my own devices during the day because Jeremy was in town for the APS (American Physical Society) annual meeting, at which he was also due to present.
We took the train south to Louisiana in a sleeper compartment, which was enjoyable. Jeremy and I have a serious aversion to prolonged car trips and find the train to be preferable to air travel (particularly the necessity of spending time in airports) too. The spacious seats and the ability to fold them into beds in the evening renders it a comfortable way to travel, though it admittedly takes longer than a plane flight. But sipping on a bottle of Samuel Smith's Oatmeal Stout whilst being lulled into a reverie as I watched the landscape go by in the arms of my sweetie was a delight.
SUNDAY
The first evening in New Orleans, we arrived at our hotel and joined Jeremy's parents, grandpop and grandop's fiancee for dinner at Galatoire's for some old-skool Cajun cuisine. Jackets were required, so Jeremy had to choose one from the rack. He sought the most god-awful, pilled blazer that was available. Oh, his sense of irony! Overall, the wine was great, but the meal average. I had Redfish Meuniere, which is a subtle, butter-sauce preparation including parsley, lemon and Worcestershire sauce. The fillet was puny, and everything is al-a-carte at Galatoire's, so I was expecting a decently-sized fillet for the price. Jeremy had a tasty-looking Stuffed Eggplant dish, though we had difficulty locating the eggplant. Yet Jeremy's Dad remarked that the shrimp tasted like they were straight from the sea, and he would know, residing on the Gulf Coast of Florida as he does.
MONDAY
The following morning, we had brunch at The Palace Cafe on Canal with the folks. I sought seafood selections whenever possible, because it's difficult to get even mediocre fish and shellfish in Champaign. I had a lovely oyster Po-boy. Jeremy left to work on his presentation and I walked with his folks down to the Mississippi River and we then went on a pleasant walk through the French Quarter. Alcoholic beverages are allowed on the street as long as they're not in glass containers (you can ask the bartender for a "Go Cup" to decant your beverage into for your stroll to the next bar), so, despite the fact that it was still early-afternoon, I had a lovely frozen Hurricane daiquiri to sip on as I strolled around taking pictures.
Dinner was at Tony Moran's on Bourbon for some Italian food. There's little as comforting yet refined as pasta and Chianti. Bourbon street is a street of striking juxtapositions; next door to our tablecloth restaurant, Spring Breakers were drinking Hand Grenades (a local neon green concoction) from plastic cups.
TUESDAY began as a day of decay; I went on a guided Hurricane Katrina bus tour. Much of St. Bernard's Parish and The Ninth Ward is still devastated, leading me to conjecture that New Orleans may evolve into less a city in which people live and more a playground for tourists and those who can afford to live in the French Quarter (because of increasing costs due to the housing shortage). In Gentilly, where there were formerly five large supermarkets prior to Katrina, only one has re-opened. Many hospitals are still not in operation, and the infrastructure in these parts is in disarray. The school system was so dismal prior to the storm, however, that the new Charter school system is quite an improvement and is subject to higher academic standards. Some small pockets of habitation can be seen even in parts of the lower-ninth, where celebrities such as Harry Connick Jr. and Branford Marsalis have rebuilt some homes in conjunction with Habitat for Humanity in a neighborhood known as Musicians' Village. Nevertheless, I can't help but think that anyone rebuilding in these areas is taking a leap of faith as the levee system is still in the midst of long-term improvement. I wasn't quite prepared for how depressing the tour would be. I sought a salve...and some retail therapy! I went shopping and got a used copy of The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein in paperback at the Librairie Book Shop on Chartres. Next door at Trashy Diva, I got a retro silk dress that makes me feel like Peggy Lee, thereby blowing any semblance of a budget...so I consoled myself about that with some Cafe au lait and a beignet at Cafe Du Monde, bien sur!
Upon returning to the hotel in time for dinner, Jeremy and I walked to the Crescent City Brewhouse for dinner. Jeremy and I done loves our brewpubs! I dined on Softshell Crab Capri, which is described as "Louisiana soft shell crab deep fried and topped with crawfish, artichoke bottoms, and roasted peppers finished with a vermouth butter" and washed it down with a pint Black Forest red. Jeremy had crab meat stuffed shrimp.
WEDNESDAY
In the morning, I went on a guided walking cemetery tour of the St. Louis #1, which exemplifies the local style of above-ground burial. What else can you do when you're at or below sea level to intern your dead? Cemeteries such as this have been described as Cities of The Dead, and they're indeed as lovely as they are macabre. Marie Laveau, New Orleans' famous voodoo priestess is also buried here.
For Lunch, I had a tasty Muffuletta sandwich at the Central Grocery in the French Quarter (where they were invented). There was a signed photo featuring the cast of The Sopranos inside, and indeed, it was reminiscent of Satriale's Pork Store. The Muffuletta is truly a delectable sandwich:it's prepared with Italian bread and filled with Provolone cheese, Genoa salami and Cappicola ham, then topped with Olive Salad (their special recipe). New Orleans represents a real confluence of Spanish, French, and Italian culinary traditions, all steeped together in the steamy swamps of the Southern United States. Mmm Mmmmm good.
I do love my movies, so I headed to the cinema for a double feature of Cidade dos Homens (City of Men), a Portugese language film directed by Paulo Morelli from 2007 which is sort of a companion piece to Mierelles' Cidade de Deus (City of God). The second movie was In Bruges, the Colin Farrell/Brendan Gleeson vehicle set in Belgium (more like self-reflexively stuck inside a Bosch painting). It attempted to be darkly ironic and intelligently humorous, but fell short. Going to the movies in the midst of the day alone is one of my favorite treats, and it's accordingly decadent, the theme of my trip!
Dinner was at the Acme Oyster Bar on Bourbon with Jeremy. We had some lovely crawfish and I had yet another Po-boy. By this time I was flirting with seafood surfeit. However, I had not achieved maximum capacity just yet, so I lustily gobbled it all down with a pitcher.
THURSDAY
I kicked off Thursday with a guided tour of the Hermann-Grima historical home, which is an exemplar of American architecture in the quarter. It features a fully-functioning Creole Kitchen. It was built in deference to the extreme heat and humidity of a Louisiana summer sans air conditioning: high ceilings, beds placed in front of doorways for ventilation, and long hallways with windows at both ends to circulate the air.
I walked around the French Market, purchased some Pralines at a candy shop, and some cheesy Voodoo totems for our friends back in Champaign. Wade had achieved conference fatigue and we met-up on Canal to sight-see (in this context, I suppose sight-see is a euphemism for copious drinking). We went to Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop on Bourbon, which was once a front for privateering, now a drinking establishment. It is one of the oldest bars in North America still operating today. I had a hurricane and Wade, a margarita. Pleasantly buzzed, we strolled down Dumaine to a very home-grown Voodoo Museum and saw some skulls. We wrapped up the afternoon with another very large Hurricane apiece in the courtyard of Pat O'Briens.
For dinner, Wade and I crossed paths with Stephanie, another conference refugee, and dined on a balcony overlooking the hubbub of Bourbon to play a few rounds of "spot the physicists in town for the conference" amongst the nighttime revelers.
FRIDAY
Jeremy and I shouldered our baggage and hoofed it to the station. We rolled by the swamps back towards the Midwest. I had some mighty fine Red Velvet Cake at dinner!
What a sumptuous time.
We took the train south to Louisiana in a sleeper compartment, which was enjoyable. Jeremy and I have a serious aversion to prolonged car trips and find the train to be preferable to air travel (particularly the necessity of spending time in airports) too. The spacious seats and the ability to fold them into beds in the evening renders it a comfortable way to travel, though it admittedly takes longer than a plane flight. But sipping on a bottle of Samuel Smith's Oatmeal Stout whilst being lulled into a reverie as I watched the landscape go by in the arms of my sweetie was a delight.
SUNDAY
The first evening in New Orleans, we arrived at our hotel and joined Jeremy's parents, grandpop and grandop's fiancee for dinner at Galatoire's for some old-skool Cajun cuisine. Jackets were required, so Jeremy had to choose one from the rack. He sought the most god-awful, pilled blazer that was available. Oh, his sense of irony! Overall, the wine was great, but the meal average. I had Redfish Meuniere, which is a subtle, butter-sauce preparation including parsley, lemon and Worcestershire sauce. The fillet was puny, and everything is al-a-carte at Galatoire's, so I was expecting a decently-sized fillet for the price. Jeremy had a tasty-looking Stuffed Eggplant dish, though we had difficulty locating the eggplant. Yet Jeremy's Dad remarked that the shrimp tasted like they were straight from the sea, and he would know, residing on the Gulf Coast of Florida as he does.
MONDAY
The following morning, we had brunch at The Palace Cafe on Canal with the folks. I sought seafood selections whenever possible, because it's difficult to get even mediocre fish and shellfish in Champaign. I had a lovely oyster Po-boy. Jeremy left to work on his presentation and I walked with his folks down to the Mississippi River and we then went on a pleasant walk through the French Quarter. Alcoholic beverages are allowed on the street as long as they're not in glass containers (you can ask the bartender for a "Go Cup" to decant your beverage into for your stroll to the next bar), so, despite the fact that it was still early-afternoon, I had a lovely frozen Hurricane daiquiri to sip on as I strolled around taking pictures.
Dinner was at Tony Moran's on Bourbon for some Italian food. There's little as comforting yet refined as pasta and Chianti. Bourbon street is a street of striking juxtapositions; next door to our tablecloth restaurant, Spring Breakers were drinking Hand Grenades (a local neon green concoction) from plastic cups.
TUESDAY began as a day of decay; I went on a guided Hurricane Katrina bus tour. Much of St. Bernard's Parish and The Ninth Ward is still devastated, leading me to conjecture that New Orleans may evolve into less a city in which people live and more a playground for tourists and those who can afford to live in the French Quarter (because of increasing costs due to the housing shortage). In Gentilly, where there were formerly five large supermarkets prior to Katrina, only one has re-opened. Many hospitals are still not in operation, and the infrastructure in these parts is in disarray. The school system was so dismal prior to the storm, however, that the new Charter school system is quite an improvement and is subject to higher academic standards. Some small pockets of habitation can be seen even in parts of the lower-ninth, where celebrities such as Harry Connick Jr. and Branford Marsalis have rebuilt some homes in conjunction with Habitat for Humanity in a neighborhood known as Musicians' Village. Nevertheless, I can't help but think that anyone rebuilding in these areas is taking a leap of faith as the levee system is still in the midst of long-term improvement. I wasn't quite prepared for how depressing the tour would be. I sought a salve...and some retail therapy! I went shopping and got a used copy of The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein in paperback at the Librairie Book Shop on Chartres. Next door at Trashy Diva, I got a retro silk dress that makes me feel like Peggy Lee, thereby blowing any semblance of a budget...so I consoled myself about that with some Cafe au lait and a beignet at Cafe Du Monde, bien sur!
Upon returning to the hotel in time for dinner, Jeremy and I walked to the Crescent City Brewhouse for dinner. Jeremy and I done loves our brewpubs! I dined on Softshell Crab Capri, which is described as "Louisiana soft shell crab deep fried and topped with crawfish, artichoke bottoms, and roasted peppers finished with a vermouth butter" and washed it down with a pint Black Forest red. Jeremy had crab meat stuffed shrimp.
WEDNESDAY
In the morning, I went on a guided walking cemetery tour of the St. Louis #1, which exemplifies the local style of above-ground burial. What else can you do when you're at or below sea level to intern your dead? Cemeteries such as this have been described as Cities of The Dead, and they're indeed as lovely as they are macabre. Marie Laveau, New Orleans' famous voodoo priestess is also buried here.
For Lunch, I had a tasty Muffuletta sandwich at the Central Grocery in the French Quarter (where they were invented). There was a signed photo featuring the cast of The Sopranos inside, and indeed, it was reminiscent of Satriale's Pork Store. The Muffuletta is truly a delectable sandwich:it's prepared with Italian bread and filled with Provolone cheese, Genoa salami and Cappicola ham, then topped with Olive Salad (their special recipe). New Orleans represents a real confluence of Spanish, French, and Italian culinary traditions, all steeped together in the steamy swamps of the Southern United States. Mmm Mmmmm good.
I do love my movies, so I headed to the cinema for a double feature of Cidade dos Homens (City of Men), a Portugese language film directed by Paulo Morelli from 2007 which is sort of a companion piece to Mierelles' Cidade de Deus (City of God). The second movie was In Bruges, the Colin Farrell/Brendan Gleeson vehicle set in Belgium (more like self-reflexively stuck inside a Bosch painting). It attempted to be darkly ironic and intelligently humorous, but fell short. Going to the movies in the midst of the day alone is one of my favorite treats, and it's accordingly decadent, the theme of my trip!
Dinner was at the Acme Oyster Bar on Bourbon with Jeremy. We had some lovely crawfish and I had yet another Po-boy. By this time I was flirting with seafood surfeit. However, I had not achieved maximum capacity just yet, so I lustily gobbled it all down with a pitcher.
THURSDAY
I kicked off Thursday with a guided tour of the Hermann-Grima historical home, which is an exemplar of American architecture in the quarter. It features a fully-functioning Creole Kitchen. It was built in deference to the extreme heat and humidity of a Louisiana summer sans air conditioning: high ceilings, beds placed in front of doorways for ventilation, and long hallways with windows at both ends to circulate the air.
I walked around the French Market, purchased some Pralines at a candy shop, and some cheesy Voodoo totems for our friends back in Champaign. Wade had achieved conference fatigue and we met-up on Canal to sight-see (in this context, I suppose sight-see is a euphemism for copious drinking). We went to Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop on Bourbon, which was once a front for privateering, now a drinking establishment. It is one of the oldest bars in North America still operating today. I had a hurricane and Wade, a margarita. Pleasantly buzzed, we strolled down Dumaine to a very home-grown Voodoo Museum and saw some skulls. We wrapped up the afternoon with another very large Hurricane apiece in the courtyard of Pat O'Briens.
For dinner, Wade and I crossed paths with Stephanie, another conference refugee, and dined on a balcony overlooking the hubbub of Bourbon to play a few rounds of "spot the physicists in town for the conference" amongst the nighttime revelers.
FRIDAY
Jeremy and I shouldered our baggage and hoofed it to the station. We rolled by the swamps back towards the Midwest. I had some mighty fine Red Velvet Cake at dinner!
What a sumptuous time.