There is no music in the world that sounds like as much fun as a New Orleans brass band. The fun just picks you up and shakes you til you party!
We passed by the Praline Connection on the way down the street, and made the taxi driver stop so we could jump out. Serendipity. The main dining room was closed, but the attached shop had 3 tables and we grabbed the last one.
The coconut pralines (pronounced PRAWleens, not PRAYleens) were a little too sweet. The nuts cut the sugar a little better. I think we ate three of them overnight.
We shared a combination plate since we had already had crawfish a little earlier. The ribs, catfish and jambalaya were perfection. I ate all of the skin off of the chicken breast we were supposed to share and left just the flesh – it was that good. Good enough to screw over loved ones.
He was busy hogging the deep, earthy seafood gumbo to notice.
It was seriously some of the best food we ate in New Orleans, which is saying something. But I was also seriously drunk. I remember taking some pictures that aren’t on my camera card of the owner, Mr Curtis, and I remember chatting with him for awhile and finding out the secret to their heavenly bread pudding – crushed-up pralines and amaretto. Hell yeah!
I remember this band playing outside.
We went to a party at The Skull Club, Lord David’s after-hours place in a loft, complete with a speakeasy-style peephole. We had had a pretty long day by that time, so we only stayed for a few beers.
This guy had gloves with built-in metal claws. They felt really good when he scratched me with them, but then I felt kind of creepy and had to ask him to stop.
“Viewing: takes place between Monday 18th to Friday 22nd May 2009 from 10.00am to 4.00pm”
…after which the family will pay their respects privately
Pro Auction are delighted to offer for sale the largest collection of grading sizing, boxing and bagging systems in Europe. The sale will take place online with final bidding on Friday 29th May 2009. This state of the art equipment has been used to grade top quality potatoes by a brand leading processor in the UK. The equipment lends itself to grading of a wide range of root vegetables and other agri products.
This state of the art equipment has been used to grade top quality potatoes by a brand leading processor in the UK. The equipment lends itself to grading of a wide range of root vegetables and other agri products… Viewing: takes place between Monday 18th to Friday 22nd May 2009 from 10.00am to 4.00pm
Then we changed and headed straight out to meet the local Pyrates at where else?
We kind of missed the parade part, but met a lot of cool people
Including some hot chicks
This was the keg for some club. I forget what the name was other than it involved alliteration. They run and drink. It’s like a jogging/running group that pulls their beer along with them. They say the only casualty ever was a dog who wore out and had to be taken home.
This car was badass.
I was supposed to meet a friend of mine, but we could never manage to be in the same place at the same time. I don’t remember that much of this night. I made friends with one of her fellow derby queens, who I believe was named Scarlette Fever, and their announcer, Skip Foreplay.
They had a free crawfish boil, just remember to tip the cook. They had all kinds of fun things in their boil, even mushrooms. It was spicy without getting mushy.
We knew that Friday we would be attending a big Pyrate Parade. What we didn’t realize was that it was part of a larger Pyrate Festival. From the first moment the elevator doors opened in or hotel it was stuffed with pirates until it was time to check out.
We went down to the Riverwalk to eat at Mike Anderson’s. Their catfish fingers and red beans and rice are memorable enough to brave the wall. It was a holiday, so a little slushy rum drink was a good breakfast option.
The red beans and rice were as good as I remember, but the catfish fingers aren’t quite as good as the old Bourbon Street location.
we were still a little hungry, so we checked out Messina’s. The temptation was great, but I did not steal the display food.
I love stuffed crab, which is almost like crab meatloaf. It differs from crab cakes by the addition of massive amounts of melted butter and milk. You often see it served in the crab’s shell or a tin version of the shell. But I like it in a po’boy. It didn’t hold up to Felix’s version, but it was still damn good.
We wandered in and out of the shops, and in one store I found my perfect lipstick. The women reading this blog will understand what a magical moment that is. But they were all out. Well they searched under the counters, and in the stockroom and under every rock. This counter girl was dedicated. Finally tired of searching, I bought another color. I asked her, “What would happen if the tester fell behind the counter?”
She said, “Well, we have ghosts you know. All kinds of strange things happen in this store.” So I switched caps on the lipsticks and became the lipstick phantom of New Orleans. I wore it this morning and it still looks fantastic on me.
At the fudge counter, I was heartened to see that the market cries of old are not extinct, although they may have gotten a little update:
We picked up some chocolate with walnuts and Praline fudge for later.
OK, What does this have to do with food? Not much, other than the fact that one of the weapons is a spork. As tempted as I was to give my superhero persona a bag of groceries, she just looked right with a cross bow. Fighting bad meals and rude waiters across the universe!!!!
OK when we decided to go econo for the first part of this trip, I chose our room based on its proximity to Mother’s. When I woke up at the crack of noon, that was our first stop for po’boys.
Kristina, I’m sorry, but I went for the pure debris instead of the ferdi (ham and debris). You know when you cook a roast for a long time, then cut it, then leave it in the oven to heat up, you start to accumulate little bits of meat at the bottom of the pan? That, my friends, is debris. One of the finest foods known to man. It comes soaked in the pan juices too, and is guaranteed to soak through the bottom of the bread
So I have developed the habit of flipping the bread over and eating the debris or Ferdi po’boy upside down.
We also got grits and a po’boy bursting with deep-fried jewels of shrimp.
We headed down to the Mississipi to check out the aquarium, but we were running late and instead went to an underwater 3-D movie at the IMAX. Because underwater IMAX is badass.
That evening we walked across the street to another Nawlins classic, the Bon Ton Cafe. There was a slight wait, so we chatted with the super-cool bartender. Later he came by our table and allowed me to snap a photograph of him. Only later in the meal did I realize that we had been hanging out with the owner, Wayne Pierce. Amazingly, Shalai, the same waitress as Kristina and I had befriended on the Ash Wednesday during my trip there four years ago served us again. Even more amazingly, she remembered us and pointed out the table where we had been sitting!
2005
2009
We absolutely had to order the crab gratin. It’s one of those dishes that you dream about as your plane lands. Like as soon as you think, “I’m going to New Orleans” your second thought will be, “I’m getting the crab gratin!” The thumb-sized crab hunks in a rich creamy sauce were begging to be eaten on crusty bread.
For dinner we split the T-Bone in a cabernet sauce. OK, most people go to the Bon Ton and to New Orleans for seafood. But I am telling you, that was one of the best steaks I have ever had in my entire life. Hang on everybody, I’ve got to click over to Expedia again right now!
For dessert we shared the classic bread pudding. It tastes like they just pour pure uncooked whiskey over the top. It is definitely not something one person can handle. In fact, this entire meal was a team effort!
Soak bread in milk; crush with hands till well mixed.
Then add eggs, sugar, vanilla and raisins and stir
well. Pour margarine in bottom of thick pan and bake
until very firm. Let cool; tnen cube pudding and put
in individual dessert dish; when ready to serve, add
sauce and heat under broiler. Serve with Whiskey
Sauce.
Whiskey Sauce
1 stick of margarine
1 cup sugar
1 egg
Whiskey
Melt margarine. Cream the sugar and egg until well mixed. Add melted
margarine and continue to dissolve. Add whiskey to
taste which should make sauce creamy smooth
According to Associated Press, a 54-year-old man stabbed his 63-year-old brother during an argument over a can of pork and beans. The 54 year-old stabbed his brother in the left arm and shoulder blade after his brother threw a punch at him. The two brothers had been drinking – shocker.
The Sheriff’s spokeswoman Cindy Chadwick said the suspect was booked Tuesday on one count of aggravated battery.
Next to the tourist favorite, Pat O’Briens, the inconspicuous storefront of Yo Mama’s on St Peters is easily overlooked. The worn bar and comfortable wooden booths of this French Quarter institution make you feel like a local. The friendly servers, especially Leyla, reminded me of one of the reasons I love New Orleans. Even if you are not a local, you treated as if you were at least a regular.
The menu is mainly burgers, with a few hot sandwiches and salads. All of their burgers are 1/2 pounders and run about ten bucks. There is a quarter pound burger for 5.75 and a mega one pound burger for 13.75. I like foods with the word mega in the name. We were immediately excited by burger #8
Peanut Butter Burger with baked potato or side salad. Top your burger with peanut butter and bacon
Before you freak out, think about it. It has already been established that bacon and peanut butter are an odd but successful pairing. And you’ve had beef satay with peanut butter sauce, haven’t you? You know I ordered it. And it was fantastic!!! I ordered my burger medium, so the peanut butter didn’t melt and caramelize around the burger the way Leyla said it does on her well-done burger. Covered with a mountain of chopped smoky bacon, it is one of the best burgers in the world.
The huge fully loaded baked potato will also be popping up in my carb-laden fantasies as I go back to a sensible diet.
Other burgers on the menu that piqued our curiosity are the “Bullfighter”
Topped with avocado, jalapenos and salsa
and the “Burger Romanoff”
Sour cream and caviar make this very rich
Umm I have a note on the menu that this is Tim and Leyla, then there are a bunch of chicken scratches…so sorry third guy, I don’t have your name. It appears I wrote “Smarp up Pither A ! 3” and that just can’t be right.
Wednesday our flight out of Burbank was delayed, which meant that we would be missing our connection in Dallas. After much furious typing on behalf of the counterperson, we were put on a different airline, and scored by getting bulkhead seats. In Dallas, it looked like the usual fast food stuff. We asked for BBQ and were directed to Dickey’s. It was like 20 gates away, but when it’s Texas BBQ vs. Wendy’s no distance is too far.
The other meats on the sampler platter were alright, but the brisket was oustanding. For sure get the brisket. I also loved the potato salad, which was kind of a surprise – I don’t usually like potato salad made with mustard and vinegar.
We got into New Orleans at 11pm, and it was midnight by the time we got into town. We checked into the Parc St Charles, which I booked for its low price of 69. a night and its proximity to Mothers. I could swear the desk clerk was on speed, or at least about 6 red Bulls. The room was decent, with a few touches of weird. At least it was quiet.
Our usual late-night place is Jumani, where we go for ass-pork sandwiches. If I may digress for a moment, I will tell you the story of the ass-pork sandwich. Delicate ears need read no further. The first time I ate at Jumani, it was on the recommendation of a cab driver. It was very late at night, or very early in the morning, depending on your perspective. On that first visit, we ordered pulled pork sandwiches. While we waited, I asked a patron if I could sit on the empty barstool next to him. He looked at me as if I had just suddenly appeared out of thin air, and he could do nothing but blink uncomfortably at me.
I looked around and I noticed that I was the only woman in the bar. I looked up at the TV and I saw a screenful of BARE NAKED ASSES. It was some kind of home video shot outdoors in a large crowd, comprised of nothing but naked ass after naked ass. In retrospect, it was probably a “Girls Gone Wild Mardi Gras Ass Fest,” but I was still innocent of such things at the time. I’m not a prude, but those asses weren’t just playfully wiggling. Those asses were up to no good.
I asked for our sandwiches “to go”. The aggravated bartender groused, “Why didn’t you tell me they were ‘to go’ before I started making them?!” I replied, “ Because I just now decided that I prefer my pork without so much ass on the side.” Well, as it turned out, those were the best damn pulled pork sandwiches we have ever had outside of Tennessee. We have returned to Jumani time and time again, willing to brave homemade porn just to get to those sandwiches.
I asked the taxi driver to wait while I scoped it out since it is also inbetween two of the skeeviest strip joints off Bourbon street. Ass pork was no longer on the menu, and the place was full of strung-out strippers so followed the advice we got from the doorperson at the Hilton and hit “Yo Mama” for burgers.
Cartoonist B. Kliban once advised, “Never eat anything bigger than your head.” But what did he know? He also thought cats should play banjos.
The Hat has been serving up deliciously greasy pastrami sandwiches since 1951. They are so old-school, they only recently started accepting credit cards. Although pastrami dips are the main attraction, locals know to go there for the chili fries. The massive mound of junk food is a sight to behold, a challenge to the heartiest of appetites. Even the big, burly blue collar workers that inhabit the formica booths are unable to finish an entire plate.
The chili fries are a deal at 4.79. For 53 cents you can add cheese, which we highly recommend. If you want to add tomato and pickle for 20 cents more, hey, it’s all you. You can even get pastrami on top. Do not be tempted to try the wet fries covered only in gravy. They are too bland and midwestern – you will be wishing for chili.
Their nine locations in places skirting Los Angeles, like Pasadena, Simi Valley and Alhambra aren’t officially LA to purists, but we are more than willing to expand our borders a little to include The Hat. If only to give last summer’s block o’ fries a run for their money.
Thursday Anne and I had a little bit of time together before she had to take me to the airport. She wanted to visit the Home for Wayward girls, where her mother Lillian had stayed when she first came to Seattle as a young runaway.
On the way I spotted this place, which naturally warranted a stop. This is the kind of sign that makes me hang dangerous U-Turns on busy streets. Dick’s has been around since 1954.
The burger and fries were OK — the kind of thing you love if you grew up eating them. The chocolate shake kicked serious ass.
The Home for Wayward Girls was suitably religious and asylum-like to be creepy.
We drove around the university district looking for a Nepalese restaurant I had heard about.
The restaurant was long gone, so we ate at the Indian restaurant that had taken its place.
Difficult emotions can make even the best food taste like sand. I can’t remember the taste of anything. I guess it’s a lamb curry, channa masala and a coconut chicken curry. It looks beautiful. It must have been delicious.
Wednesday I had lunch alone at Dahlia Lounge, a Tom Douglas restaurant that has been around for 20 years. They are heavy on the fresh and organic with a light Asian influence. Their bread comes from their own bakery next-door, and is really the best thing in the restaurant.
I ordered ” lemon-scallion dungeness crab cake, stir fried long beans, Hong Kong soba noodles, fermented black bean sauce”. I don’t think they realized when they did the plating how much this looked like a giant tarantula. The crab cake was unremarkable. But the sauce was so delicious I wished I just had a giant bowl of noodles and long beans soaked in the black bean sauce.
The Dahlia Lounge is known for its coconut cream pie, and rightfully so. Why didn’t anyone ever think to use shavings of fresh toasted coconut before?
While I was there, I couldn’t help but notice the impressive pizza coming out of Serious Pizza, a Tom Douglas pizzaria next door. I made a mental note. I went shopping at the Elliot Bay Book Company, a fantastic place for obscure and inexpensive new books.
I found a little shop called FIREWORKS that I fell in love with.
Then I just wandered around Pioneer Square, a historic preservation district. Most of the buildings date back to 1889, when a fire destroyed most of the area. Over the next five years, the town was rebuilt. I admired the architecture and the century-old pergola. I love that word. Pegola. Purrrr-goh-laaaaaah.
I called in an order at Serious Pie, and had my taxi driver pull up so I could run in and pick up my pizza. I ordered a white pizza – no red sauce – with roasted chantarelles and cheese.
It rocked my mouth off. The crust – oh my God, the crust – yes they have a bakery that puts LaBrea to shame, but this pizza crust was pure heaven, with huge spongey holes and a crispy exterior. The cheese was salty and just the right texture. I love this pizza. I want to marry it. The pizza with cherry bomb peppers and sweet fennel sausage looked tempting as did the yukon gold potato and rosemary olive oil. I will definitely be back. Plane fares are cheap right now.
As long as I was on a roll, and it was open late, my nephew and I hit The palace Kitchen for a late dinner.
The bread was outstanding. No surprise since they are kind of Seattle’s LaBrea bakery.
The appetizer with goat cheese and bread was one of the best things we ate. It was amazing.
Justin and I decided to try an Ethiopian place called Assimba, partly because I’d spent all day studying Lucy, partly because an Ethiopian cabbie reccomended it, but also because we had both had good experiences with Ehiopian food in San Francisco.
The menu told the story of cooking in Ethiopia
Both men and women have their own special roles when preparing the food…Food served to guests where the meat is not the right type and and size, where the bones are fragmented, brings disgrace which will destroy one’s reputation. In some places, it is a major cause of mariage failure!
…Meseret points out that every food prepared is unique like the person is. Thus, the food that one has prepared has its own unique pesonality reflecting the personality of its cook. That is why lacking cooking skill is so dangerous to one’s reputations. The person man or woman who cooks bad may be labeled and end up with bad nick name for the rest of his/her life.
So that’s why people keep calling me Kiki “holes in pie dough” Maraschino!
I wish I could say it was a revelatory experience, opening us up to a whole new world of Culinary delights, but I guess I’ll have to save that one for Maori cuisine.
The injera, is a large flatbread made out of teff flour. It is extremely sour. Otherwise it had the texture of thin pancakes. Incredibly sour pancakes. The teff are used as a utensil to pick up the various stews and vegetables.
We ate a variety of foods, but they were all similarly spiced and extremely hot. We tried a sort of tartar called kitfo, which was raw ground beef marinated in mitmita. Sauteed meats are called tibs. We tried Gored Gored, cubes of beef sauteed in Nitir Qibe with onion, rosemary, green pepper and tomatoes. That one was pretty good. Our favorite dish was actually the lentils cooked with diced gnger and turmeric.
We did dig their decor.
This is not Jesus
But this is Stevie Wonder
We were a bit peckish after we left, so Catfish Corner was serendipity. The fried catfish was Southern fried without a trace of grease. The chicken wings were huge, like bat wings. I’m not usually a fan of potato salad made with vinegar and mustard, ut theirs was pretty impressive. A servicable red beans and rice rounded out the meal nicely.
The service was super friendly. The next day the special was going to be gumbo. Our server told me to call ahead if I was coming and she would save some for me. Now that’s the kind of place that makes you feel at home.
I had an agenda for Tuesday, and we not only accomplished it, we outdid ourselves! We started off with a trip to Top Pot donuts. Roadfood had swooned over their peanut donuts. I couldn’t wait. When the girl at the counter reminded me that peanuts had been recalled, it was like that shot in the movies when the main character throws their head back and screams to the heavens and the camera pans back up into the sky until you just see the earth and hear the screams of “Nooooooooo”.
But the blueberry donut was still dang good. They had such an elaborate menu, the counterperson confided in me that she has never even see a few things on the menu, like the lemon bullseye and she has been there for years. We tried to split a cream filled donut but after already eating one, it was just too much sugar. Even for me. Even for a 12-year-old with an endless supply of milk.
Next we hit the Seattle Art Museum (SAM), newly re-opened after a two-year overhaul.
I have always loved Borofsky’s Hammering Man.
I was impressed by Inopportune: Stage One by Cai Guo Qiang, a horizontal version of the vertical artwork I had seen last year in the Guggenheim.
Flying cars test our reaction to unexpected events. Are you seeing the fulfillment of an innocent dream about flying through space? Or is the future hanging by a thread with the ominous air of disaster?
There was a fantastic exhibit of “Edward Hopper’s Women“. I never really appreciated him that much before, but in person, the colors and brushstrokes were inpressive. At the time, many midwesterners were moving into the big city to work in the factories. His juxtoposition of country bumpkins with big-city loneliness and industrial images is much more striking given the context. His self-portrait, dark and brooding against the black oil painting is in stark contrast to the gentle pastels he is known for.
On the second floor, we moved between the rooms, Textiles, American Art, European Art, etcetera, and discovered a small room hidden away in the corner. The wall described it as “Black Art”. We looked at the bathrooms on one side and the plastic sheeting from construction on the other. I didn’t want to say anything, but Eartha announced loudly, “Well, that’s racist.” This kid doesn’t pull any punches.
We passed through a section filled with native Northwest art, which always makes a chill run through my DNA. Eartha said, “Look, they have dimples just like your dimples.” We passed figures wearing traditional native masks. Even though I have always liked them, especially The Crow, the stuffed human dummies always give me the creeps. So when we hit the top floor and discovered an empty floor inhabited only by masked “characters” I really got the willies.
“African Crowd Control” Mingle with an unusual crowd of masked characters from today’s Nigeria. Some are on parade, wearing clothes that indicate whether they are Muslim, British, or of high status.
There was an interactive area with a building made out of blocks. We were dying to knock it down. A security guard busted us – not for knocking down the blocks, but for using a camera in the museum. Killjoy.
For lunch we went to Salumi, a charcuterie and sandwich shop run by Mario Batali’s family.
I wanted to order the Porchetta – braised pork with fennel, carrots and celery, but I got the porky names mixed up and ordered the lomo. I also ordered a Salumi Muffo to take home for dinner – hot soprasetta, cotto and provolone with a fresh olive tapenade – the only one on which they mix meats.
Eartha ordered lasagne, which was one of the best lasagnes I have ever stolen a bite of.
After Salumi, we went over to The Science Center, where they had Lucy, the first human being found – an Austriolopithicus Afikanus. I studied her in physical anthropology, so it was very exciting. Anthropologists really are obsessed with the foramen magna. I also learned a lot about the history, culture and food of Ethiopia.
The Science Center had all kinds of crazy stuff for kids, kind of like the Exploratoreum in San Francisco. We hit IMAX 3D. Nothing beats IMAX underwater 3D
The Science Center has all kinds of scary mechanized bugs to freak me out.
Anne and Ed came to the hotel that evening. They packed up Eartha and took her back home. I was kind of looking forward to an evening to myself, but I missed her right away. Luckily I was on my way to meet my nephew Justin, who is going to school at U Dub.
I was staring out the window, and I asked Eartha if she might want to go up in the Space Needle. She pointed out that we were looking down at the Space Needle and therefore had a better view anyways. Smarty.
After splitting an eggs benedict and one more viewing of the can’t-get-enough-of-it Twilight, Anne picked up Eartha and I Tuesday and we went down to Pike Place. Eartha was a little rambunctious, running around the boardwalk. Anne asked, “Have you been giving her sugar?” “Of course not.”
I got a baffling fortune from one of those animatronic fortune tellers:
Standard setting directives you set must be followed but the important thing is self reformation. The words of appointment for accomplishment are pleasing but the important thing is self reflection. There is nothing you can do to gain complete satisfaction without self reflection. Nor can there be compliance without self reformation. Put loyalty and reliability first.If you have faults do not fear self-improvement.
We started out at a nice fish restaurant upstairs so we could relax, but I knew I wanted fish from The Salmon Cooker, so I just had a clam chowder. For once I forgot my camera, and didn’t take any pictures of that meal. Shocker. But then Ed showed up with a camera and I was able to get some photos of the arcade and The Cooker. Here is what I said about it on my last visit to Seattle:
The Salmon Cooker is owned and operated by local indians. They alder-smoke all of their fish. The cod was smoky and flaky, and the chips were done perfectly all the way to the center even though they were humongous. The chowder was intense with the usual Italian herbs – rosemary, thyme, possibly marjoram, but there was one distinct taste I couldn’t place. The helpful cook let me in on the secret – mustard seed! Anne loves their coleslaw and can eat 2 orders in one sitting.
This time I tried the halibut with their thick-cut fries. The cod is the better of the two.
The view from our room was lovely, especially the sunset that evening.
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
+(Small)+(Small).jpg)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
+(2).JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
.jpg)
.JPG)
.jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.jpg)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
.jpg)
+(Small).jpg)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
+(Small).jpg)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)