by Erique Martinique
First and foremost I'm alive...but barely. Six nights in that town is enough to kill an elephant - at least the way we spent them. It's what I expected with approx. 30 of my closest and oldest friends converging on said city for nothing more than a prolonged party.
Highlights from the trip/general commentary in no particular order:
1. The wedding was a blast (particularly fond of the idea not to hold a sit down dinner, but rather have food stations running throughout, as a sit down dinner can break up the flow).
2. The second line parade leading from the reception to Pat O'Briens for the after, after party was also a nice touch. Bunch of dancing fools waving handkerchiefs and juking parasols. There's video from that parade of one of my closest friends in his full Army dress blues that I can't show you out of deference to his fear of a demotion. That good.
3. The WW II Museum. Worth a visit.
4. Loved the oysters and craw puppies at Acme, the Ferdi Special(s) at Mother's and the Muffuletta at Central Grocery (not worth getting anywhere else IMHO). Also got a kick out of the turtle soup and various desserts at Commander's Palace. Would also highly, highly recommend anything off the menu at Cochon - one of my new favorite restaurants in the world - especially the ribs, ham hock, grilled oysters and fried alligator. Hell, even the bread was badass.
Funny story: got there a bit early, and struck up a conversation with Peter Buck from REM at the bar while waiting for the table. Didn't even realize it was him at first (I blame the hurricanes), until a friend interrupted and made the point. Very nice, down-to-earth and witty guy. The rest of the band filtered in later, but didn't get a chance to meet them.
5. The beignets at Cafe Du Monde should be illegal, as should the hurricanes on Bourbon but for slightly different reasons.
6. The amount of good street music is ridiculous.
7. Regretted that I never did make it to Johnny's for a poboy or Giacomos or any number of other enticing recommendations. But there's always a next time. If my liver will abide.
Beignets next time at Cafe Beignet, 334 Royal Street, and any of the John Besh restaurants.
Posted by: mdiehl | April 20, 2010 at 04:43 PM
You really don't get to blame hurricanes. They are a force of nature. A force for good, I think.
7-11 cherry slurpees with rum and a blender make a very reasonable facsimile of a hurricane. However, bourbon street has no reasonable alternative, so howevermuch you can retain the drink, the experience is probably lost.
Posted by: jrudkis | April 20, 2010 at 04:47 PM
Welcome back!
(hope that wasn't too loud)
Posted by: Slartibartfast | April 20, 2010 at 04:57 PM
Beignets next time at Cafe Beignet, 334 Royal Street
Did it. We stayed at The Monteleone, so that was a logical destination in the early hours.
Posted by: Eric Martin | April 20, 2010 at 05:23 PM
The beignets at Cafe Du Monde should be illegal
Export them to Guantanamo Bay, and maybe after the skies clear over the UK we can get the British government to offer them asylum here.
Posted by: Jesurgislac | April 20, 2010 at 05:44 PM
heh
Posted by: Eric Martin | April 20, 2010 at 05:58 PM
It is simply impossible to a) find a bad restauarant (they are required by law...I think...to range from Excellent to OMFG) in New Orleans, the only city where I could wander around for an hour just staring at menus and b) to not enjoy yourself to the point that wretched excess rears its head.
Posted by: itinerantpedant | April 20, 2010 at 06:22 PM
The WWII museum is great, but these new revelations about Steven Ambrose (one of the main movers for that) are disappointing, to say the least.
Can I be the first to say that it's too bad you didn't visit before Katrina?
Posted by: liberal japonicus | April 20, 2010 at 06:55 PM
I missed the museum when I was last there due to conference obligations. More's the pity since I've now spent the better part of a year writing about WWII and about Ambrose and Spielberg. Ambrose's scholarly star has been tarnished for a while, but he did know how to spin a yarn. No Ambrose, no Saving Private Ryan.
My favorite discovery while in New Orleans was The Coffee Pot. Best chicken and sausage gumbo I found anywhere, and I tried a bunch.
Posted by: nous | April 20, 2010 at 08:55 PM
Next time you're in Louisiana, make sure you get to Lafayette, preferably for the Festival International de Louisiane, or the Crawfish Festival in Breaux Bridge.
My favorite is still Michaul's.
Posted by: Randinho | April 20, 2010 at 09:36 PM
New Orleans is great because they serve beer. You should also check out the Amtrak station.
Posted by: Brick Oven Bill | April 20, 2010 at 11:24 PM
I made it down in 2002, but I was honestly a little green to do enough damage. I did manage to contribute to my untimely demise at du Monde as well. There's just something about breakfasting at 11:30 am on steaming weekday mornings in May (why did we go for a full week in May? I'll never know) with steaming fresh-fried sweetbread topped with powdered sugar and steaming chickory coffee with horses trotting by and live music. Just hot, sweet, and hot. Glad you had a good time. Now you can reminisce with Treme, too.
Posted by: Mike | April 21, 2010 at 03:54 AM
[Very mild spoiler]: (Coming, as I did, from Madison Wis., then, I guess I can't complain about another use of my state as the home of the typically jejune midwestern do-gooding naifs who manage to get themselves into trouble in Treme's second episode. It doesn't make it any less cliched, but somehow we've gotten ourselves deep into screenwriters' unconscious as the non-southern backwater of backwaters. Ah well, here are are worse fates, as long as one doesn't take oneself too seriously.)
Posted by: Mike | April 21, 2010 at 04:07 AM
Glad you got to enjoy it; The one time I visited New Orleans, (During a major SF convention.) I'd put my foot down a post hole several days before. All that fancy cooking, and the only place I could reach on crutches was the Popeye's next to the hotel...
When I got home I learned to make my own caramel flan just to make up for it.
Posted by: Brett Bellmore | April 21, 2010 at 06:14 AM
the week after a trip to NO, i want to listen to nothing but Clifton Chenier. the week after that, i don't want to hear any zydeco at all, ever again.
Posted by: cleek | April 21, 2010 at 08:11 AM
if it wasn't for NOLA American music would be Stephen Foster and John Phillip Sousa. Worse, it would be ersatz Eurovision pop.
Maybe bluegrass would still have happened. Other than that all roads lead to New Orleans.
NOLA is the mother lode.
Posted by: russell | April 21, 2010 at 08:57 AM
Second on Cochon. We got the boucherie plate and boudin for the table, and that was enough to vault it into the best restaurant I've been to this year.
Posted by: protyase | April 21, 2010 at 09:26 AM
Maybe bluegrass would still have happened
i've read claims that bluegrass came from a blend of old-time hillbilly music and things like ragtime and jazz - which were all popular in the 30s/40s when bluegrass was invented. i don't really hear the jazz link, though. maybe it's just that they are both highly-technical and improvisational - and that doesn't require common descent, just parallel evolution of a common feature is enough.
regardless, you're right: NOLA is the heart of much of what we know as "American" music.
Posted by: cleek | April 21, 2010 at 09:46 AM
I like American music. Do you like American music?
Posted by: Eric Martin | April 21, 2010 at 09:50 AM
Don't you like American music, baby?
Posted by: von | April 21, 2010 at 09:53 AM
i was born too soon
Posted by: cleek | April 21, 2010 at 11:18 AM
Let me third the greatness of Cochon. All the meats there are delicious. A standout in a city filled with excellent restaurants.
Posted by: ScottC | April 21, 2010 at 02:43 PM
I still prefer Cafe du Monde's beignets over Beignet Cafe, though the latter is somewhat easier to get in/out of.
Eric:
Too bad about Johnny's. It's not to be missed. Next time.
russell:
all roads lead to New Orleans.
With a strong assist from Memphis.
Posted by: tgirsch | April 22, 2010 at 04:56 PM
Yeah TG, my brother's wife's father was saying that his family still goes, and that it's the oldest poboy merchant in the city.
Posted by: Eric Martin | April 22, 2010 at 05:25 PM
Johnny's motto: "Even our mistakes are edible."
Posted by: tgirsch | April 23, 2010 at 12:59 AM