TWTW - the one in New Orleans

Some people are like Sweet Brown, ain't got no time for trip or weekend recaps so for you, I'll shotgun my New Orleans feelings here: I did not have one thing to eat that I didn't like - the food is crazy in this town. Music surrounded me everywhere and I loved that. The city felt shrouded in mystery and made me think a lot about vampires and voodoo, of things we glimpse on the edge of our vision, of what we can learn from looking in nooks and crannies. I loved the alleys, courtyards, gates, wrought iron, balconies, buildings, colors, weather... I loved the funky shops and the artists and psychics in Jackson Square. I loved staying on Chartres Street close to the action but not right in it. I loved wandering the French Market and talking to local artists on Sunday morning. I loved the grand old homes in the Garden District and the raised cemeteries rising like small cities of the dead. I loved the walkability of the city and the spirit of its people. I disliked the stench of Bourbon and Royal Streets (Jana was correct in describing it as every type of excretion imaginable mixed together) and drunk people who must have thought they were filming their own personal girls gone wild video bumping into me beginning at noon and continuing on through the day, so I largely avoided both of those streets except in the morning. I expect that at night but in the early afternoon? Let me live.

And now the details and eleventy billion photos.

Friday afternoon found us sprinting through the airport to make a 3:30 flight to New Orleans (MFD loves to push his airport limits), and a few hours later we were aghast at the amount of people in the line for taxis. As in, over 150 people. Not one to let my time pass me by, we made the executive decision to go for the pumped up Uber fare ($75, taxi flat rate is $36) and we were heading into the Crescent City within minutes.

Friday night dinner at the Gumbo Shop on the recommendation of Gwen was the perfect introduction to New Orleans: a little spicy and in no great hurry. My tried and true Northeasterner self struggles with the pace of the South every time. I had crawfish and pasta in tasso cream and MFD had a creole combo so I sampled his seafood okra gumbo, jambalaya, and macque choux corn. I had a huge ass piece of pecan pie that was fabulous to top off the meal.

The Gumbo Shop was perfectly situated for our plan to see one of the three nightly shows at Preservation Hall. This was number one on my To Do list in New Orleans. Unless you buy advanced tickets (sold out when I tried), it's standing room only for the 45 minute show. I ended up sitting out on one of the old ass seats in the hall in lieu of behind the mystery farter in the room.The sound was just as good. MFD stood in the doorway and watched the whole thing with better views than he would have otherwise. It was awesome and absolutely worth the $20 each to get in. There are no frills, no refreshments, no bathroom, nothing pretty about the place except for the music and the music is enough. I'm still singing oh Eliza, little Liza Jane on repeat.

I got a beer and MFD got a red bull and we lasted about two blocks on Bourbon Street before taking refuge in the quieter streets behind St. Louis Cathedral, which has a statue throwing off awesome shadows. The quiet sign made me laugh. It was quietER. That'll do.

Of course we hit Cafe du Monde, both Saturday and Sunday mornings. I like their coffee and MFD loves his sweets.

We spent early Saturday morning in Louis Armstrong Park in the Treme neighborhood dedicated to one of the city's most celebrated native sons. A bust of Sidney Bechet, another NOLA music king, as well as other art is dotted around the park.

Saturday Jazz Brunch at the Court of the Two Sisters on the recommendation of Colleen K - we sat in the courtyard even though it was a little chilly. The setting was really lovely with brick and vines and burbling fountains. The jazz was a nice background, service was friendly, and I have never in my life had better sweet potatoes. Ever. Like I could have sat there all day and eaten 12 pounds of those sweet potatoes and I've already sussed out the recipe on the internets.

MFD headed off to his conference and I took the Saint Charles Streetcar to the Garden District, where I rambled around its torn up sidewalks under huge old trees, peeking at the grand houses on the wide streets. It was peaceful and quiet, a world away from the bustle of the French Quarter, if only about 20 minutes by streetcar. A note about the streetcar transport: cheap as hell (day pass for $3, go anywhere, use the RTA app on your phone and you don't even need cash) but operating on whatever schedule they want and passing you by if they're full. I waited a half hour on the way there with two passing me and 50 minutes on the way back with three passing me. And that was with walking down and getting on the car earlier in the line in lieu of at the popular Washington Avenue stop. I also perused Magazine Street and had some sweet sustenance at Sucre, taking some macarons to go.

Of course no visit to the Garden District is complete without a peek behind the walls of Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, one of the oldest cemeteries in the city. The tombs are raised and wall vaults line the perimeter. Well shaded by Magnolia trees and gothic feeling, it takes up an entire city block. It was first active in 1833 and still has burials occurring.

Saturday evening dinner at Tujague's on Decatur, a recommendation from my coworker. This joint opened in 1856 under a different name but has been Tujague's for the past 70-some years and has adopted many of the original traditions, including serving hot coffee in rocks glasses. The service was impeccable and the food was amazing. MFD had oysters in brochette and I had fried green tomatoes with crabmeat ravigote to start, then a meh caesar that I didn't even need anyway, and filet Tujagues - a filet with creole seasonings accompanied by gulf fried oysters and a Crystal Hot Sauce bearnaise reduction (I got it on the side). The crust on this steak was unbelievable. MFD actually told the waiter he'd bathe in it. So the waiter got a little taste of Shit MFD Said and he liked it. 

I had walked one billion miles that day and had the blisters on my toes to prove it so I was done done done. MFD went and heard some jazz on Frenchmen Street in the Faubourg Marigny section and enjoyed it a lot. 

Sunday began with another morning walk in the French Quarter:

Jackson Square, which was truly magnificent with the cathedral in the back and ringed with artists and performers throughout most of the day:

After MFD was off to his conference, I strolled the French Market, talked to some merchants, enjoyed the sunny skies and warm breezes, sipped some coffee, and stepped into some galleries and shops. Perfect Sunday morning, right? I am a statue lover and this town did not disappoint. 

I walked along the mighty Mississippi for a bit, watching the Natchez steamboat take off with its wheel paddling furiously in the muddy river and listening to a joyful trombone player for a while. 

MFD and I had our au revoir lunch at Felix's, a recommendation from Angie, and hot damn it was good. We split chargrilled oysters that were incredible and I had a fried oyster po boy I swore I had no room for but finished. We even ate the delicious bread with the oysters even though I swear I have never had more bread in my life than I had this weekend. Allll the french bread. 

I know, I know, STFU with the food. Just two more for you: Spitfire Coffee (excellent iced coffee and very unique mole cortada that was great), they have tip jars and you place your vote for the day in them. MFD placed his dollar in science and I placed mine in magic. And Central Grocery for the muffuletta. Just do it. I could only eat half of a half but I'm glad I at least tasted the magic.

We stayed at the Hotel Provincial and I loved it. Really nice staff and a great location on Chartres tucked out of the way of the insanity. I also considered the Cornstalk. That was really cool looking from the outside and in a good location as well. If you do decide to stay at Hotel Provincial, ask for a room off a balcony. We didn't and wish we did. We stayed in building five, which is a restoration of the original 1875 structure that was at one time a Civil War military hospital. 

I'll just leave a few videos here of some music for those that like that sort of jazz...get it? I'm going to start with the one where the guy is playing a Kora African Bass Harp, an instrument that originates in West Africa. He built this one himself. I thought the sound was unique and I liked sitting and listening to him in Jackson Square on my way back to the hotel to leave for the airport.

Entertaining the people in line at Cafe du Monde on Sunday:

Royal Street

On the way to the airport, I rode by a Second Line party in Treme on the way out of town and that was a fine sendoff. My brother picked me up and I got home around 11:15 and to bed a little before 1 after many lovely greetings from the dogs. Thanks to our friends Catie & Joe for watching the grumble this weekend while we were gone!

I worked yesterday as there are no bank holidays off here. Thus you get TWTW on Tuesday. 

Linking up with Biana at B Loved Boston for Weekending