Tourists–and the Party–Return to New Orleans

A look at the bright side of New Orleans since my last visit slightly over a year ago...
Check out this line at Café du Monde. The town is crawling with tourists. Between the Christmas holiday, the Sugar Bowl, the BCS game, and a convention of economists, I have not seen the French Quarter this busy since pre-K times, and business wasn’t too shabby over on Magazine Street, either.

And joy of joys, my favorite oyster house has finally reopened! albeit in a smaller space. I can’t tell you the number of times I've stood outside Felix's on Iberville with my nose pressed up against the glass wondering when they’d reopen and I could sit down to a mess of fried crawfish tails. It could be rose-colored-glasses syndrome, but my Felix experience this visit surpassed even my most golden memories. The tails seemed plumper and hotter, the remoulade fresher, and the service was definitely faster and friendlier.

And how ‘bout Hoi Polloi over on Chartres Street? The irony that swanky, girly store owner Lisa Shedlock would find success easier to achieve in post-K New Orleans than on Main Street was not lost on those of us who follow the downtown A2 retail scene. Lisa wasn’t in the store, but her mom Elise (above left) said they’ve had good luck with new lines like PJ Salvage and Maven Cosmetics, and they have high hopes for strong sales as the BCS looms.

Speaking of the BCS game, check out the swag for sale in the recently refurbished French Market (the work on the flea market side is complete, and they don’t seem far from done on the fresh produce side). Like the rest of the French Quarter, business in the Market was hopping.

What about Bourbon Street? Wednesday night after drinking this go-cup (strawberry, kiwi, and 151 rum) from one of the five dozen daiquiri places, the quality of my photography understandably deteriorated. But America’s unique corridor of bawd seems back to its licentious self, and as always there was considerable police presence to make the tourists feel safe. Katie (below right) is a local college junior, and I asked if her parents worried about her job. “I’ve worked on Bourbon since I was 18, and never had any real trouble.” If The Button fed me that line I wouldn’t believe her for a second, but as my local companion said, “it’s different for kids who grow up in New Orleans.” Imagine just how much different for the Katrina generation...

Oh, and as if the run-of-the-mill liquor flowing on Bourbon weren’t enough, did you know absinthe is legal in the U.S. again? Scott, a bartender at Tony Moran’s (the restaurant connected to the Old Absinthe House), poured us a free tasting. Sugar cube, lighting on fire, the whole nine yards. Ick. That anise flavor that I don’t care for. But the charcuterie plate (left) we ordered was mighty fine.

At the far end of Bourbon, a sad note for fans of Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, the piano bar in the oldest (supposedly) building in the French Quarter. Johnny Gordon, their ancient piano player, has Alzheimer's and retired to South Carolina. For as long as I can remember, Johnny has been banging away “Piano Man,” the entire Elton John catalog, and on a couple occasions made a good natured attempt to pound out “Tubthumping” after I sang it (off key) for him. I took this photo in November of 2005, when it was essentially a few Quarter locals and relief workers like my buddy and me singing along. Johnny, you’ll be missed.

"Tubthumping" has always been an anthem of sorts for my friend Kelly and me when we're in New Orleans. But, come to think of it, what an appropriate song for New Orleans as the city continues to try to rebuild.

I get knocked down
But I get up again
You're never going to
Keep me down

More to come in my next post about the more serious side of recovery.

Where Y'at?

Warning: This post has absolutely nothing to do with Ann Arbor, except that I’m writing it.

Holiday greetings from Louisiana! The Brouhaha is being brought to you this morning from The Cottage, our home away from home at the Olivier House Hotel in New Orleans. Over the years I’ve become friends with the Danner family, owners of Olivier, and they are always kind enough to let me decamp to one of their nicest (and most quirky) accommodations. Long ago, The Cottage was actually the home of an elderly lady – it has a kitchen, working gas fireplace in the parlor, and the little private courtyard off the hotel pool that you see in the photo at right. When the lady passed away, the Danner’s bought the house and made it a part of their hotel. Tres jolie!

I’ve been in Louisiana since before Christmas, enjoying a somewhat sub-tropical take on the holidays. I spent five relaxing days in Baton Rouge, where my hostess Beth threw a party at her lovely new home on Sunday night (photo left). The weather was 55 degrees, clear and beautiful, but everyone was complaining about the cold. Meanwhile, I was running around barefoot! And I totally overdosed on bourbon punch, sweet potato casserole, butter beans, cornbread dressing, and turkey (not to mention enough chicken salad sandwiches to feed a small army). They really know how to eat and drink down here, but I’m afraid to check my cholesterol level or step on a scale. And Beth's father gave me electronic files of all his late wife's recipes. I told Beth that since I don't have a legacy of down home cooking in my own family, I'm going to co-opt hers!

Speaking of fantastic food and fearing the scale, I have to tell you that I enjoyed a meal last evening that probably has to go into my top ten pantheon of dining experiences. I’ve been wanting to go to Stella! in New Orleans for years, but usually haven’t been able to convince my traveling companions because the food isn’t Louisiana vernacular. Since I was on my own last night, I dashed down to the little place on Chartres Street in the French Quarter and found a slice of culinary heaven.

The meal started with an amuse bouche of Tasmanian wild salmon served sashimi style with a kimchi and mango sauce. Loved it. Then I ordered the foie gras appetizer, which was grilled and served over a toasted brioche with CHEESE GELATO (don’t ask me why, but this worked) and a drizzle of wild blueberry sauce. The rich, buttery foie gras combined with crunchy bread and the cool, creamy cheese of the gelato brought together several layers of “mouth feel” that were as surprising as they were delicious. For my entrée, I ordered one of the restaurant’s signature dishes, Duck Five Ways. The two more traditional preparations, the seared duck breast and the "laquered" leg and thigh, were perfect. But the duck miso soup and the moo shoo crepe interpretations were only so-so, and the wontons were not appealing at all. The niblet of foie gras in the middle slid out of the wonton like a little glob of fat. So, while not a home-run, the entrée was definitely a stand-up double.

After all that, how could I have had room for dessert? Yet, when I heard my waiter Adam describe the grilled cheese and chocolate to my neighboring table as his favorite thing on the menu, how could I resist? Yes, you read that correctly – grilled cheese and chocolate. It was a little sandwich of brie and dark chocolate, buttered, grilled, and drizzled with more of that lovely wild blueberry sauce. To. Die. For. Speaking of Adam, the service was certainly top notch. Discreet and knowledgeable, plus a team of non-uniformed hosts who would swoop in to assist. And I was impressed that Owner/Chef Scott Boswell was actually in the restaurant, out mingling among the guests. I was also impressed by the rose petals in the loo. Since I was too self-conscious to take flash photos of the food in the small, dark dining room (even I have limits), I thought you’d find this pic entertaining.

Besides eating like a glutton, social calling has been on my agenda and one day I drove over to Lafayette to visit Arthur and Terry McViccar. They are Ann Arbor expatriates recently relocated to be closer to family in Louisiana, and you may have known Arthur as the facilities manager at the Michigan Theater. They are living the bayou life, literally – they’ve got crawfish, fig and pecan trees, and a menagerie of pets. "I haven't quite gotten into the whole Cajun lifestyle yet," Arthur told me. "For instance, I didn't offer you a beer when you walked in the door this morning, and I didn't offer you a beer for the drive home."

In addition to visiting with Art and Terry, I was invited to attend a Christmas Eve Bonfire, a holiday tradition along the River. Trent and Kay James live in 150-year-old Creole-style plantation house named Bagatelle that they inherited from his family. Located on the River in Iberville Parish, the house was originally downriver in St. James Parish, but–get this– Trent and Kay put it on a barge and moved it upriver 30 years ago! They felt the area in St. James was getting too industrialized. On Christmas Eve, they invite all their friends and family to an open house and bonfire. Trent spent weeks building up the pile of wood, and after a generous dose of diesel they lit it around 7pm and I have to tell you, the flames must have been shooting 30 or 40 feet into the air. Biggest damn fire I've ever seen. And as if that weren't enough pyro, they set off fireworks, too! "Do you have to get a permit to do this?" I asked Kay and her daughter Kate (right). They turned and looked at me like I was some kind of crazy woman.

Two years after Katrina, many residents of Louisiana like the James family appear to be going about their lives much as they did pre-storm. In my next post, I’ll tell you a little bit about what I’ve observed of the people and places who continue to be impacted by recovery from the worst natural disaster in our history.

The Buzz in Bethlehem

The youth group at the First United Methodist Church on State Street performs “What’s the Buzz in Bethlehem?” every year during the holiday season as a fundraiser (view video clip). Highschoolers have the prime speaking parts, and this year The Button’s friend Katie played Rebecca, one of the innkeeper’s daughters.

“There’s always much mayhem with bees,” was how Katie’s mom described the somewhat revisionist interpretation of the Nativity story.

We are the bees
We are the bees
We swarm, we sing, watch out we sting!
We’re here at the King David Inn

We are the bees
We are the bees
We come to this inn to visit our kin
We’re here at the King David Inn

In addition to the usual complications of too many guests (including a drama troupe from Jerusalem), the inn suffers from an infestation of bumble bees and one particularly precocious wasp named Tyler. I’ve seen “What’s the Buzz” over three or four years, and even an unreconstructed heathen like me gets a warm, fuzzy feeling every time.

Merry Christmas Ann Arbor!