New Orleans Report #1

New Orleans was spectacular! I am not one to brag (I only boast), but I really do love it there. The townies are so proud of their city. I do wish Philly would stand a little taller. It is not as if we have anything to hang our heads about. New Orleans has similar problems; John's Dad calls Philly and New Orleans "Sister Cities". I have to agree. Yet, everywhere you look a sign of city pride is there; a fleur de lis, a string of beads, "WHO DAT!" painted on the side of a school, and a gallon of milk has a little Saints mascot on the the cap. It is inspiring.

The holiday went as planned. Our usual Christmas Eve with linguine alle vongole, scallops and sauteed spinach. My nephews were alter boys at St. Francis of Assisi. It was beautiful. They have a full choir complete with brass organ and a full brass section. I loved hearing the trumpets and trombones during mass. The priest ended the service by asking everyone to call on the Saints for Monday night. The saints being Peter, Paul, John, etc. How funny is that?

We had our usual visits to Cafe Du Monde, Casamento's and R and O's, but we walked over to Domalise's for lunch on Christmas Eve to find them closed. What a disappointment. This year we tried Parkway Bakery and Tavern. Spectacular! Big shrimp with a light fry. It was glorious. At Casamento's we met the 2009 World Shucking Campion. He was fantastic and funny. He told us of how he was robbed this year of the title. While he talked, he would drop extra oysters into our metal cup of sauce. We had a few dozen while chatting and waiting for a table. The oyster loaf was as good as ever and the fried crab claws have no equal. We were quite lucky this year. We were the very last people in line for a table. We arrived at 1:30, closing time is at 2. The line was moving slowly and snaked out the door and down the street. We are a party of 10. At exactly 2 o'clock, John, Tiger, Christine and I managed to get in the front door. The six kids were outside monkeying around. Directly on cue, the waitress looked up from the back of the restaurant and started moving forward. "Excuse me, please move, excuse me, exCUUUUUSE me please!" It was a big line. At least 15 - 20 people ahead of us. She pointed at Tiger, asked if we were together and announced that we were the last in line. She agreed to let our kids stay outside while we waited. Honestly, I was tempted to ditch them if she said that they could not join us. I kid! ...Not really. She informed us, as she was drawing the shades and placing a huge CLOSED sign on the door, that if we let someone else in and get in line, we lose our table and they get ours. About 18 minutes later (2:18 people!), a woman smashes through the door and pushes in between Tiger and John (no exaggeration). We all made eye contact with each other but she would not look up. She was busy manically pushing her sleeve up trying to look at her watch while avoiding our eyes. She clearly knew the deal. I looked through the blinds and saw a group of about 5 standing outside the door and our kids looking at them confused. We had told our kids to let anyone know who came that they stopped taking people in line. After gently trying to get her attention, which she ignored, Tiger, who is 6'4" and not easy to ignore, leaned down and told her that we were the last people in line and if we let her in we sacrificed our table. She looked at him blankly. Tiger smiled and told her that that was not going to happen. Without a word she turned and left. What people will do for an oyster loaf! Honestly, I don't blame them.

It was unusually cold for New Orleans. We actually saw some flurries one morning. I know, I know, I left behind that obnoxious blizzard. I have no room for complaints. We bundled up and visited some of the old cemeteries in the city and searched for the cript of Marie Laveau. Our search was fruitless. Of course we left for the airport planning a trip during Mardi Gras or perhaps Jazzfest. I would love some sausage bread and fried green tomatoes! Who knows what will bring. It will surely bring another dinner at Patois and hopefully some more music. More? you ask? Yes, more. Although John prefers Tipatina's (he still has this ratty old Tipatina's tshirt that makes an appearance periodically), the House of Blues is an incredible venue. Trombone Shorty, y'all!!