It’s hard to talk about the Crescent City and everything that makes it my favorite place on the planet in one post. So, rather than giving you a play-by-play of my Spring Break week in New Orleans, I decided to break it down into categories. Part one- The FOOD!
New Orleans is basically a gastric orgasm. Food that sends you into throes of passion. You fall in love with your plate and everything on it. You wash the food down with drinks that will make your head spin. Love at first bite.
Breakfast can come in any form you want, provided you want tons of flavor and calories don’t count. My personal favorite breakfast food? Crawfish. Yep. Crawfish for breakfast. I ate it four out of the seven days I was there. From the Bayou Bowl at The Creole House washed down with a mimosa or bacon bloody mary,
to the Bayou Benedict at Cafe Maspero (get the grits)
with the best coffee this side of Cafe du Monde. It doesn’t hurt that the waitstaff at both places are absolutely precious! (You’ll meet one of them in another post.) And that Cafe du Monde staff can handle a crowd! Woo-wee. And, yes, you want to wait in the infernal line for your friend dough deliciousness.
Head down to the French Market and get some crawfish balls and jambalaya (no idea why they gave me so many forks – apparently they were thinking I should share. Um, no),
or gator on a stick. (That’s my spunky little girl, who admittedly has a style all her own, munching that gator.)
Too spicy for ya? Okay, make sure you cool those taste buds with a snowball. Not to be confused with a snow cone. Very different beasts. (And my beautiful older girl with her wedding cake snowball)
Feel like having some spine-tingling high-end cuisine? Go eat at Muriel’s haunted restaurant. If you can get a seat at Jourdan’s table, he might even join you.
As a local returning home, I did have to grab a daiquiri and stroll the Quarter, but I steered clear of Pat O’s (even though it’s a fun place to go) and Bourbon Street. Trust me, I’ve spent enough time in those places. However, I did poke my head into Jean Lafitte’s Blacksmith Bar for a minute on my way to the Old Ursuline Convent. Think about that sentence for a second.
Not in the mood for creole food (crazy person)? Then, take the St. Charles streetcar into the Garden District for some great south of the border fare at Superior Grille, a place I spent a lot of high school and college evenings at devouring chips and salsa with my strawberry margarita. (Drinking age in Louisiana at that time was 18. Relax.)
There are a bazillion other places to eat in New Orleans and I plan to be back soon to sample those as well, but I will definitely end up back at these favorites, too!
Stay tuned for my next post – the folks of New Orleans. A few of the fabulous people that make the French Quarter a place I can’t wait to go back to.
~ Much love!