Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Catfish and Gumbo...

March 9, 2012

Oh, we love this town!  We do so much love this town.  There is nothing like New Orleans and her surrounds – this is food country, you can’t walk a block without seeing and smelling lovely food just waiting for you to savor.  You can’t walk down a block without being swept away by the French architecture.  You can’t enter a shop or a restaurant without being welcomed, truly welcomed to their establishment.

It’s also a busy convention and sports town, this weekend being basketball’s South Eastern Conference.  Kentucky and LSU played today, and there was nothing but blue, blue, blue for Kentucky EVERYWHERE we traveled in NOLA.  Old ladies, young men and women – all blue shirts, shoes, mardi gras beads, pom poms – all blue.  They won today and were quite jubilant wherever we went.  Bourbon Street, needless to say, was wall-to-wall blue, all holding plastic cups, smoking outside in large groups, walking en masse in the streets, shouting over the music whose genre varied bar to bar.  Zydeco reigned, but was filled in with bad Jimmy Buffett covers, Doobies, and various incarnations of southern rock.  

NOLA Band



Yesterday was a visit to the Hermann Grima house in the French Quarter, one of two houses I had picked to see, hoping for an inside look at those intriguing Vieux Carre houses.  99% of the Quarter houses are lived in and never available to visit, so my hopes were high.  Unfortunately, it is a fine example of Georgian architecture, not French.  But what a house it is.  No pics allowed so I’ll describe, although woefully inadequately. 

A Jewish immigrant from Germany, Mr. Hermann was a very wealthy commodities broker who married a prominent Creole widow; the arrangement was mutually agreeable. He built the house for her and they raised their two daughters in it.  He eventually lost all of his money and they retired with little.  The most amazing thing to me about this house is that it contains the only complete, unreconstructed stable in the city.  It was a four stall, brick floor stable busting with memories of horses and donkeys.  Very cool.


March 10, 2012

Yesterday’s schedule was the Gallier House.  Parking in the Quarter is always challenging, even though Ton-Ton’s parking god is usually kind and beneficious to him, and were again today.  We did dink around a bit though and arrived six minutes late for the tour.  And of course the tour guide is a rule follower, and said, “Well, I’ll just have to repeat the rules.”  Like we haven’t been on enough home tours to know not to “touch the furniture, walls, or any other items.”  She warmed up as we went along though, and we were able to glean more information about New Orleans homes, and city planning.  Yes, city planning turns us both on.


NOLA's Cafe du Monde

NOLA Azaleas in Bloom in March!

NOLA Building

NOLA Businesses

French Quarter Door

French Quarter Shotgun House





NOLA "Spread Joy" Shotgun House

NOLA boarded up shotgun house


On to Shula’s!!!  Yay – so looking forward to that steak.  Parking god intervened again and we walked the last few blocks to Shula’s.  Walking into the hotel lobby where the restaurant is housed all we saw, again, was Kentucky blue.  On the escalator, coming in and out the doors, at the bar, every table filled – with blue.  Fortunately for us, it was still lunch they only served at the bar, where we happily plopped ourselves.  I love the menu – no prices - it’s gonna’ be BAAADDDDD!

Yes, that's $40.00 for a Portherhouse...

Shula's Bar
 The bouncy bartender bopped up to take our drink order, asking us the predictable, “How are you?”  I replied, “Hungry.  I’ve been waiting five years for another Shula steak!”  He loved that.  I ordered the 8 oz fillet, and Tony the Portherhouse.  And……..lunch, unlike dinner, comes with potatoe and vegetable!  A linen napkin was placed before each of us along with our eating utensils, including a huge and sharp knife for cutting said meat.  I was anxious, I was nervous – the second time around is the final test, the one that tells you whether or not the first steak was just a fluke. 

Out come the plates, my knife and fork at the ready.  I ate it like an angel seeks justice, a rabbit makes babies, a man drives the freeway, Jackie reads a book.  The green beans were crunchy perfection, the garlic mashed buttery delight, and that fillet, oh lordy, that fillet melted in my mouth.  I wolfed it!  I did.  The bartender turned around and I was done.  He said that he’d told the kitchen that we had waited five years for this meal so do it right!  They did, I did, Tony did.  It took him about another 15 minutes to finish his meal – small mouth – genetics.  I struck up a conversation with the Kentucky blue couple next to TC while waiting.

After paying out the big cash, we strolled to a corner on Canal Street and watched the world of peeps go by.  So fun to see a sea of blue drinking and partying.  Home we went.


Had a brief discussion with the male version of our campground host after our showers today who has been participating in the Mardi Gras experience for 21 years.  His observations of Carnivale, which is the proper name for the season – Mardi Gras is a 24 hour period - is quite different from the perception of Bourbon Street’s debauchery.  They viewed it as a family event and brought both daughters; they participated by being part of the “shut-ins” parade group, visiting rest homes for the elderly, blind and infirm; don’t wear any shoes you don’t want ruined to walk around New Orleans during Mardi Gras due to garbage, excrement and vomit; if stopped by the police, do whatever they say, do not argue, or your thumbs will be wire tied and you’ll be placed in the back of a paddy wagon, which won’t leave the area until full; buy your necklaces and other accoutrements from one of the retail/wholesale warehouses in the area.  All good advice.

The plan for today was to hit the WWII museum and see the Tom Hanks produced film “Beyond All Boundaries” in 4D, then the Confederate Museum.  First stop, however, was Jackie=Gumbo at The Gumbo Shop.  Again, intervention and blessing from parking god in the Quarter found us with a quick walk to nirvana/gumbo.  Partway there I spied a shop with beads and voodoo dolls and made a beeline for it like a crow to a silver button.  Turns out the woman running the place and I had a great many life experiences in common, in a distorted sort of way.  We talked and laughed for a good ten minutes before moving on to get in line for the main attraction.  I got my gumbo and a fresh baguette, while Tony had the special – blackened catfish with shrimp and crumbled crabcakes in a sauce on top.  It also came with a vegetable, “macque choux”, which is corn with a mix of delicious somethings.

Gumbo Shop Bar

TC's Catfish, Shrimp, Crabcakes and Corn Maque Choux

JB's Gumbo!

Gumbo Shop Wall Painting

JB and Gumbo Shop

JB and Gumbo Shop
Tony and I both had very, very mixed feelings about the Hanks film.  I view myself as a pacifist, and, as a mediator, believe strongly in the power of listening and talking through difficult, perhaps confrontational, experiences.  I so struggle, however, with where that line is when talk is enough, and you just need to bop someone.  I don’t think the latter, in the long run, resolves deep seated differences.  But violence is so intrinsic to our being, almost the third rung to “fight or flight” and I feel it come over me even when arguing with Tony.

That being said, watching the horror of WWII – or any war for that matter – is, painful for me.  I KNOW what happened before, during and after WWII - holding a BS in History from Western (go Vikings!) – and certainly don’t need to see any more dead bodies and burned children.  This film seems more of a spoon-fed, simplistic account for school children.  Yes it is 4D, which is VERY cool!  The seats shake during the bombing raids, the smell of smoke is in the air, wind blows across your face, bombs go off – very Hollywood.  There was a family of about five small girls with their parents and grandparents in the row ahead of us, and I worried that viewing frozen bodies being loaded into ambulances was more than they should see – in fact, it’s more than I should see.

So, my conundrum is this: is force, brutal murdering force, ever necessary?  Hitler was an evil, sick man – could he have been stopped any other way?  Could Hirohito in Japan have been led down a path of discussions on the economic and social disaster that is war?  Should we be teaching our world populace the art of deep discussion, listening more than talking, directed reasoning – not who is wrong or right, but how to adapt to those around us?   I believe so.  I’ve never been in a war, but have been touched by it by those I’ve worked with (Vietnam era), my ex-husband, my brother, my dad, and Tony.   They all experienced war differently, but ALL carry that experience with them, good or bad.

Tony’s take on the film was quite different than I expected – he ALWAYS surprises me, he NEVER takes the road most traveled, he is a thinker and reasoner a true independent.  He felt it was too simplistic, that it didn’t give the audience the grit and gruesome of what war really is.  He was shocked at the frozen bodies, had never seen that before.  He said, “If people want to avoid war in the future, you need to show them what war really is.”  Kind of like thugs or gangsta kids not really understanding what getting shot is all about, but carry guns – then once they’re shot, whine and cry about how much it hurts.  Well, yes, it does.  I wondered too, if the little girls sitting ahead of us, were ever shocked at the dead bodies they saw, or if they are immune to those visions.

TC and Mike Boat

WWII Plane

TC and WWII 6X6


We then drove back through the Quarter, savoring, internalizing, soaking up, loving this city so much – wanting to take parts of it with us.  Hit some neighborhoods we had wanted to inspect, and found so many of them 80% rebuilt, new houses, lawns mowed, kids playing – that was so satisfying.  We think that bitch Katrina has been mooned by those affected by her.  Moon on, NOLA!

Beeline for Guillory’s to stock up on shrimp po’ boys for dinner and on the road tomorrow.  They had run out of French bread so made due with hamburger buns, and no muffalatta.  We ended up talking long and sweetly with the owner, the kid who makes the sandwiches – kind of a Kid Rock persona – the cashier and a customer.  It was a “fill my soul up” experience as we all exchanged stories and ideas.  Walked away thinking we’d eat half the sandwich and save the rest for tomorrow, which was a great idea but not fulfilled as we ate the whole thing.  Oh, so yummy!

March 11, 20012

Off we go amidst a swarm of mosquitos, a hearty goodbye from our hosts and good wishes from Chris the Ranger.  Our initial plan is to an RV park in Lafayette, LA, but the guy didn’t call me back.  As we traveled down wonderful highway 90, through cypress forests, over swamps, our hunger called and we stopped at a blog recommended place in Houma (Ho’ muh) called Copelands.  Sat in the bar and was served by an outstanding young man by the name of Randy.  Although this looks like a chain restaurant, it was definitely down home – everyone was waving and calling “Hey!” to other patrons. 

Of course my curiosity honed me in immediately in the drunk at the bar and his girlfriend/wife.  Within minutes of us sitting down she had stormed off, he was yelling at her back, “You KNOW that’s right!”  He sat weaving on the barstool a few more minutes then went after her.  Back they came, she pissed and not talking, he ordering another drink.  By the time their food came all was back to ….. normal for them.

Randy was very curious about our travels, as he likes to travel as well.  He had plans for the Grand Canyon with wife and in-laws, but his wife is pregnant and that’s cancelled.  He’s been to LA, as far north as North Carolina, the Bahamas.  He’d like to see WA and OR.  He also had some great insight and info on this Cajun realm we’re in, where to go, what to see, and most importantly, where to eat!  His advice on their menu was spot on too.  I ended up with pecan crusted catfish, pecan coleslaw and mac and cheese – all loaded with fat in the way of cheese and sauces.  Randy assured me I shouldn’t go back to eating well until out of Louisiana – I love that!  But, it’s my body and I must try and ease back into healthier food. 

We ended up heading to Tony’s pick, Palmetto State Park in Abbeville, LA.  How glad we are that he noticed it on the map!  It’s a completely rebuilt park that was under 10’ of water from storms.  Everything is new and shiny, and the park itself is beautifully set amidst palmettos and maples, an indescribably eerie and stunning cypress swamp, with wildlife everywhere.  First thing we see?  Three feral black pigs!  Racoon on a garbage can, piliated woodpeckers, red winged blackbirds, geckos and acres and acres of crawfish farms! 

We parked next to the bathrooms which are divinely new, and also house a FREE laundry!  Heaven for us.  Through our dirty clothes in immediately while Roku cried to get in and see what I was up to.  So, I showed him the screened in porch area, the women’s head and the laundry room.  Satisfied with what I was doing he followed me back to Blue. 

No TV reception but we had a big old Sunday paper called the Sunday Advertiser that is well written and chock full of local flavor.  They still have big old pictures and coverage of local weddings, with the bride posed in her big old dress, listing past lineage.  Epic.  Same for the obits.  Family and geneology is important here.

Oh!  And while in the store, TC thinks he saw one of the sons from the TV show “Swamp People!”  He could tell by the guys missing front tooth – go figure. 

The mosquitos are definitely a problem here too – where wouldn’t they be with wet, wet, hot all around?  Roku seems happy in the bush here, at least until it rains, which it did.  We could see it coming all day but didn’t expect what we eventually got.  I’ve been in a lot of lightening and thunder storms, but have never seen anything like this.  The lightening shone about every 20 seconds, virtually lighting everything around us as if a heavenly spotlight was on us.  This was followed by spine cracking thunder that actually shook Blue.  Neither of us are afraid of this stuff, in fact, enjoy it, but Roku was outside during all this and wouldn’t come when called.  When he finally did come in I could relax and enjoy it.  Didn’t seem to bother him at all, crazy boy kitty.  Along with the L and T storms, it poured rain, leaving huge puddles this morning.  Awesome AND epic!

And Ieave you with this business sign from NOLA:

NOLA Business
 

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