All that Jazz

 You will never guess where we are right now! I will give you a hint-Happy Birthday 90th  (10/5)  to Chris Owens-may she and her false eyelashes Rest In Peace-wonder who owns the block of St. Louis and Bourbon now?  We snuck out of town on Monday and drove (really fought) down I10 a mere five hours to New Orleans. Why NOLA?  It is George’s 40th birthday-he was born here and had not been back-one part bucket list one part foodie request.    Why did we sneak?  We had it on really good authority that George (Ed or I) would get a permanent scar-not like a tattoo or piercing of a wild body part but as in a bullet hole or deep knife wound as a souvenir…at the very least we could expect to be rolled and robbed.  Something about the way we look, I guess, low hanging fruit and all.    So after days of hand wringing and discussions with friends that still live in NOLA and George’s NOLA branch of his law firm, we hit the book ‘em button on Google and started packing.  Of course, as with any Pickle field trip, the big decisions revolves around when and where do we eat.  Eddie made his list, George made his, of course, I made the various reservations.  Covid has not change the management hierarchy at House Pickle.  Need me a good Ring of Power (Amazon Prime TV) or Dragon egg (HBO Max)-yeah, looks like we need a road trip.  

Covid, conventions, Katrina, bad press/increased security (doubtful) has made the cost of a modest hotel room(s) (at 40 we figured George could have his own room and not sleep on a fold out) with the extra fees crazy expensive.  I hear rooms on some of the cruises ships out of Galveston are currently going for 4 days for less than a $100 bill-inside cabin, tips and drinks not included.  Let’s just say we could have had a pair of nice suites on a 4 dayer for what we are paying for a shoe box…conveniently located, with history across from the Louisiana Supreme Court building-Royal Orleans, and steps away from the NOPD-location, location, location.  I think my laundry room and 1/2 bath are bigger.  It does have a nice garden terrace patio out of each.  The weather is pleasant enough to allow me space-mentally and physically-to have my coffee, read, write-you get use to the noise-probably the air handling system.  

We chose to come first part of week as the criminal element is less active after a big weekend of tourists and cruisers (ship turn around is on Sunday)…and the hotels are 33% less expensive.  Always pinching a penny, that KP.  If you are not a foodie, and food is food, you will be fine.  But we all know Mr. Eddie…he is the ultimate foodie.  In planning I had to create a Venn diagram of days of week, who is open on which day from our list.  A couple of things not open any more first part of week is the zoo and aquarium…two things on G’s list…he is a closet zoo and aquarium junkie.  Open is the National WWII museum and sazerac house.  The restaurants were a mine field.  3 weeks out, we had reservations for the #1 (GW Fins), George’s office friend pick (Muriel’s-it was more about location) and Eddie’s lifetime #1 Galatories.  There is Felix or Acme, a Brennen family restaurant (there are now tons due to a family squabble and Katrina) Beignets and a couple of Bars that George had on his must see.  

We moved from the Big Easy in 1985.  The flagstone sidewalks were almost new then…but have not be fixed in the past years or disasters.  So when the Doctor ask if we have had any recent falls, I can just say French Quarter and get a pass.      Eddie, George and Lauren were born here, Eddie had fond childhood memories, law clerking and practicing law memories.  The kids were too young to remember much, but I do have my own set of memories of NOLA.  We have been back several times in the last 37 years, but fewer than the fingers on one hand since Katrina.  Each time a little more has changed, a little less of the jazzy  cool vibe, that was deeply woven into the fabric.  The French Quarter that was getting its groove back post Katrina has suffered another body blow…Covid.  Long time bars, shops and restaurants are closed and shuttered…lack of tourists, lack of workers…lack of lack of.  What is left is the restaurants that have stood the test of time…the Nuevo culinary kids have come and gone, as have the Food Network stars places.  What is left is a whole lot of places serving very similar menus of Creole and Cajun classic with a side order of fried foods…all for a reasonable price.  You can still get a 3 course meal for around $50 a head.  There are a few places that have a little Asian or Mexican (Spanish is creole-Mexican is Mexican) flare going on, but they are serving what the tourists expect at a price the tourists don’t bitch about on Yelp.  In 37 years, it is no longer exclusive to NOLA…it is no longer worth the travel to get the food.  Our resident foodies are slightly disappointed.  But have not pushed away from the table for sure.  The bar scene….I swear these floors have not been mopped since Katrina and the Health Department made them do it.  The bar tops are still sticky with a years worth of sloshed drinks…but the price is still right.  They have figured out in NOLA if you charge $20 a drink, most folks are 1 and done.  At $7-9 (half that if you look for the happy hour specials) you can get your happy on for not to much money.  

New Orleans still has some of the best people watching hands down in the world.  I am almost sure that at 20 years old when Fast Eddie brought me to New Orleans on a train in a private compartment to Adlers on Canal Street to buy my engagement ring, I was so naive that he had to remind me not to point or stare.  I am almost sure I saw my first bunches of gay couples, trans and gender confused folks here in NOLA.  I don’t even lift an eyebrow anymore.  See, just like the food and culture-New Orleans was ahead of its time.  Currently there is a riotous amount of unshaved womens underarms seeing a lot of play on the crowds here in New Orleans…ya’ll can just keep that one.   Best people watching happened at Muriel’s balcony on the corner near Jackson Square.  We were watching the people go by to include a pair of locals with long rasty nasty dreads, a bike with a kiddie sleigh, and momma with a wagon with a toddler in tow.  Never mind that momma had a black chicken on her shoulder and dad had a brown and black chicken on his.  The three of us watched as they walked down the street and around the tons of,people along Jax square…looking down at their cell phones.  Not a soul-but us on the balcony—-saw the show of the day.  Must have all been locals. 

I will close with an a Eddie story…cause what is a Karen travel journey without an Eddie story.  Night #1 we have reservations for GW Fins (yeh, seafood, catchy name, I know) for 6:30.  We left our happy hour bar stools at the Kingfisher (Happy hour pricing and all) and wobbled down the broken flagstone (it is black, so I call it slate, but Eddie insists it is flagstone) sidewalk.  It actually was the sidewalk, not the happy hour libations.  We arrive 15 minutes early to be told to cool our jets either on the sidewalk with the folks hanging out waiting for no shows or have a seat at the bar.  Eddie picks seat a the bar.  George and I ordered our drink of the day- a Sazerac which was served in a rocks glass.  For you that do not know your way around a bar, it is a short stubby glass, pretty hard to knock over or drop due to design.  Eddie got a Martini with a twist, gin, not vodka.  His is served in a chilled traditional martini glass-which was served in a stemmed glass, the better ones are thin crystal (maybe, maybe not) with a round base and stiletto glass stem-easier knocked over or broken in the paws of a muscular man.  His drink arrived, filled to the absolute brim.  Before we could collectively take a sip, our table was ready.  George and I grab our stubby little glasses and follow the hostess.  Apparently, she took one look at Eddie and the martini and called for back up.  “They” insisted that they would carry Eddie’s drink to the table.  Eddie is a professional, he uses the glasses at home…he has been know to carry them great distances without spilling a drop.   He was miffed, why did he need drink assistance?  Yes, the tables were close together, yes, there was lots of movement, yes, the drink was really full, and there is everything that Eddie bring to the table.  When we got into our shoe box hotel bed-did I mention we slept in a queen sized bed-first time in many, many years, (and pounds) ago.  He went to sleep asking why they felt they needed take his drink to the table.  Oh, Eddie.