Earlier in the week, the Times-Picayune announced that on Thursday, October 29 (I'm a little late posting this), the marquee lights of the Saenger would be relit for the first time since Katrina. Although for years now I had been been mourning the Saenger every time I went by it, thinking that nothing had been done since the Storm, it turns out, according to the article, that a consortium of developers (with experience restoring historic old theaters) have been toiling behind the scenes. The T-P reported that on Thursday, the public would be invited to see the long hallway into the theater, with displays of photos of the Saenger in the past and plans for its glorious future. I was SO excited!
My sister L was in Texas last week, but my sister D was in town. Like all of us, and our parents before us, she is a big theater buff and had been to plays at the Saenger many times. When I told her about the story, she got excited too, and we made plans to go. In the intervening days, there were more stories in the T-P, about a VIP-only reception actually *inside* the Saenger, but it seemed like even us peons would be able to see *something* and there would be the ceremonial lighting of the marquee. All well worth it.
I picked up D in the CBD after work on Thursday and we drove to the old parking garage on Rampart, that used to be called "Blaise's" and was a favorite parking spot for our dad on family outings, especially at Mardi Gras. We paid the fee and parked, talking all the while about our father and all the times we remembered parking there in the past, sitting in the old Waiting Room (now apparently an office) for our car to be brought down by the parking attendants. (There are no parking attendants nowadays -- you have to park your own car and go and get it afterwards.)
As we walked over to the Saenger, we could see police barricades, blocking off the area around the Saenger, and acting as security. We talked about our memories of the Saenger, and pointed out things on the outside -- the old poster boxes that used to advertise coming attractions, the faded, elaborate terra cotta decorations around the windows and boarded-up doorways. We rounded the corner at Rampart and Canal, and could see that the barricades were moved out in front to part of Canal Street. We moved closer, hoping to catch a glimpse of the inside of the theater.
D and I got the front, and a policeman gestured toward us, pointing to where the barricades had an opening. We looked at each other and grinned. (D even pointed to herself, as if asking, "Me? You mean me?") We passed through the opening, thanked the policeman, and entered the long arcade hallway of the front entrance of the Saenger for the first time in more than 4 years. We nearly pinched each other in excitement. Lights had been set up, and there were many displays of the Saenger as it was being built, back in 1927, its grand opening, and high points in its life as a theater hub in New Orleans. (We were especially moved by a photo of a benefit for victims of Hurricane Betsy back in 1965.) We could see at the very end of the hallway, just in front of the old escalator by the double bars, tables had been set up to check IDs of the people invited to the special private reception. (Indeed, while we were watching, New Orleans socialite Mickey Easterling went past us, entering the VIP area.)
But there was so much to see and we were so very happy to be there that it didn't bother us that much to be left out. We wandered around, checking out all the pictures showing the plans for restoring the Saenger to its former glory, and we were very happy. Just then, an old friend of mine (27-odd years ago, we had been pregnant at the same time with our sons) who works for the Mayor's Office came past and I reintroduced her to my sister. D recalled an early toddler birthday party for our sons, during which a friend of mine had asked who was the older sister (I am, by 5 years), and how outdone D had been that it wasn't *obvious* that she was the younger of us two. My old friend laughed and allowed as how she could very well have been the one who committed the age faux pas back then. As J walked away from us to head into the reception, we made a little joke about being "peons" who were just enjoying being in the hall.
D and I went back to examining the photos and captions, when suddenly J came back to us, pulling us by the hands. As we got to the table by the entrance to the VIP reception, J said, "They're with me" and just like that, we were in! A smiling waiter came by with wines and champagne, and we both took glasses, and toasted this amazing good fortune. Sipping at our glasses, we entered the main theater area of the Saenger, where most of the crowd had gathered.
The seats had been removed, and we were contained in a particular area, not that far our from under the upper loges above us. Special lights had been set up and aimed at the small parts of the gorgeous theater that had been cleaned, stripped, and repainted in the manner of its 1927 opening. D and I were almost overcome; our eyes filled with tears. D pointed to the approximate spot where she and Daddy had attended their last play together. We stared at the damaged but still magnificent Mighty Morton Wonder Organ, and recalled the times we had seen it rise majestically out of the floor, its full and dramatic tones filling the auditorium. Around us were the damaged statues and fountains and facades of the "Spanish village" of the Saenger auditorium, following an early 20th-century style of creating the illusion of the audience being in the open air of a village in another country.
We looked up and in the dark blue ceiling we could see the empty place where light bulbs had portrayed constellations of stars. We heard someone talking about how the stars would be reinstalled, this time in LED lights. We wondered aloud about the old cloud machine, but could not hear anyone talking about fixing that. We admired the small sections that had been repainted, and agreed that the new-old colors would be much, much more elegant and beautiful.
Waitresses from a catering company passed among the chattering crowd, with hors d'oevres like stuffed eggplant, boiled shrimp, fried shrimp, fancy cold cuts on a stick, cheese and crackers, and cut pieces of muffalettas sandwiches. Everything was delicious. We definitely felt like VIPs and we VERY glad both of us had dressed up a little for work that day, so that we did not stand out from the invited crowd as underdressed.
Big Man finally joined us and got a chance to finally see the inside of the Saenger, albeit in its unfinished, damaged state. But he could easily see its beauty and was mightily impressed. A few minutes after Big Man got there, a small jazz band struck up some second-line music and the crowd moved slowly down the arcade hallway to outside under the marquee, where quite crowd had grown on the outside of the barricades. After interminable and mostly boring speeches from the developers and various politicians, including several members of the City Council and the Mayor, the switch was pulled and the white bulbs lit up, chasing each other round and round the letters of S-A-E-N-G-E-R and the underneath. The crowd cheered, some sniffled, and many waved handkerchiefs.
It was a wonderful night, and we all look forward to reopening of the Saenger some time in 2011.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
How Many Festivals Can You Do in One Weekend?
Your mileage may vary, as the saying goes, but here's what Big Man and I were able to squeeze into last weekend:
Bouligny Blues Festival at the corner of Napoleon and Magazine (my old neighborhood, back when my son was little) -- great music (Joe Krown was on while we were there); some choice crafts, fun children's play area, and terrific food. (Special props to Nirvana, which brought the saag paneer, one of our all-time fave Indian dishes and to Boucherie, whose 12-hour roast beef with horseradish creme and pickled red onions po' boy with *perfect* French fries. Are you hungry yet?)
Attended one of 4, count'em 4, wedding receptions in City Park. Ours was at the Casino, on the second floor, where we witnessed a pink explosion of a sunset, like a Hollywood production. Envied the folks taking a last-minute paddle-boat ride through the park's lagoons (and my family of origin better be scheduling that promised paddle-boat race SOON!) while enjoying giant boiled shrimp, tiny tasty muffalettas, chunks of grilled fresh tuna, perfectly fried shrimp, and crawfish sardou (VERY nice take on a New Orleans breakfast favorite from Breakfast at Brennan's).
Two parades to celebrate Halloween, one of which, Krewe of Boo, is sponsored by Blaine Kern (the self-styled "Mr. Mardi Gras") and winds its way through downtown eventually to the new Kern Mardi Gras World a few blocks from my house. Gigantic floats with skulls and witches and ghouls and goblins and vampires, all in the signature big-figure Kern style, familiar from his carnival floats. Great stuff, could practically see it without leaving my block.
Coliseum Square Festival, in the afore-mentioned park, a small affair on Sunday with only a few food booths and the traveling gelato wagon, and a bunch of crafts, including Baba Blankets. Lots of dog owners and dogs -- our Keely had a grand time running and sniffing and being sniffed. (Keely is such a big hit with the ladies that I told Big Man he could have used our dog back when he was single. He allowed as how he hadn't actually needed a cute dog to meet women back in the day, so there.)
The Boo Carré in the French Market, also on Sunday. Really, really enjoyed Amanda Shaw and what seemed to be an abbreviated version of the Cute Guys. For Halloween, she was sporting little black feline ears and a long furry tail with her well-fitting jeans and black high heels. (I looked at Big Man, looking at her, and he said, "Just don't say it.") A very appreciative crowd was stationed in front and the sides of the stage. (The noise got to Keely a little, so we had to move away a bit. Have to get her more used to loud music.) The Boo Carré was a terrific, family-friendly event, with kids going form booth to booth, trick or treating, and there was face painting and pumpkin carving too. New French Market restaurant, Galvez (in honor of our Spanish governor) was selling a delicious refreshing sangria, which I enjoyed very much. (Funny thing: a new vendor in the Market advertised herself as a healthy, low-fat, alternative for New Orleans-traditional cooking, but the triple-chocolate brownies on her counter, she admitted, were NOT in that category. Too bad.)
)!( )!( )!(
Fall festival season is upon us, and every weekend from now on til cold weather will be an exercise in decision-making. Have fun, y'all!
Bouligny Blues Festival at the corner of Napoleon and Magazine (my old neighborhood, back when my son was little) -- great music (Joe Krown was on while we were there); some choice crafts, fun children's play area, and terrific food. (Special props to Nirvana, which brought the saag paneer, one of our all-time fave Indian dishes and to Boucherie, whose 12-hour roast beef with horseradish creme and pickled red onions po' boy with *perfect* French fries. Are you hungry yet?)
Attended one of 4, count'em 4, wedding receptions in City Park. Ours was at the Casino, on the second floor, where we witnessed a pink explosion of a sunset, like a Hollywood production. Envied the folks taking a last-minute paddle-boat ride through the park's lagoons (and my family of origin better be scheduling that promised paddle-boat race SOON!) while enjoying giant boiled shrimp, tiny tasty muffalettas, chunks of grilled fresh tuna, perfectly fried shrimp, and crawfish sardou (VERY nice take on a New Orleans breakfast favorite from Breakfast at Brennan's).
Two parades to celebrate Halloween, one of which, Krewe of Boo, is sponsored by Blaine Kern (the self-styled "Mr. Mardi Gras") and winds its way through downtown eventually to the new Kern Mardi Gras World a few blocks from my house. Gigantic floats with skulls and witches and ghouls and goblins and vampires, all in the signature big-figure Kern style, familiar from his carnival floats. Great stuff, could practically see it without leaving my block.
Coliseum Square Festival, in the afore-mentioned park, a small affair on Sunday with only a few food booths and the traveling gelato wagon, and a bunch of crafts, including Baba Blankets. Lots of dog owners and dogs -- our Keely had a grand time running and sniffing and being sniffed. (Keely is such a big hit with the ladies that I told Big Man he could have used our dog back when he was single. He allowed as how he hadn't actually needed a cute dog to meet women back in the day, so there.)
The Boo Carré in the French Market, also on Sunday. Really, really enjoyed Amanda Shaw and what seemed to be an abbreviated version of the Cute Guys. For Halloween, she was sporting little black feline ears and a long furry tail with her well-fitting jeans and black high heels. (I looked at Big Man, looking at her, and he said, "Just don't say it.") A very appreciative crowd was stationed in front and the sides of the stage. (The noise got to Keely a little, so we had to move away a bit. Have to get her more used to loud music.) The Boo Carré was a terrific, family-friendly event, with kids going form booth to booth, trick or treating, and there was face painting and pumpkin carving too. New French Market restaurant, Galvez (in honor of our Spanish governor) was selling a delicious refreshing sangria, which I enjoyed very much. (Funny thing: a new vendor in the Market advertised herself as a healthy, low-fat, alternative for New Orleans-traditional cooking, but the triple-chocolate brownies on her counter, she admitted, were NOT in that category. Too bad.)
)!( )!( )!(
Fall festival season is upon us, and every weekend from now on til cold weather will be an exercise in decision-making. Have fun, y'all!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Finally, Fall
Ever since I was a little girl growing up in the New Orleans suburb of Chalmette, I associated the turn of the weather to relatively cooler temperatures in the fall as my "birthday weather" (my birthday coming close to the end of September). This year, however, there was no birthday weather -- it was just as hot and humid through the month of September as it had been in August.
This unhappy trend continued into October. The air conditioners ran like crazy (oh, the Entergy bills!!) at our house straight up to Thursday, October 15th. Everyone in the city complained and moaned and kvetched about the heat, and why oh why couldn't fall come (or at least what passes for fall in the Crescent City).
Then the rains came on Thursday evening -- great booming thunderstorms, shimmering lightening, pouring sheets of rainwater, clogging drains and flooding some streets. And Friday morning came, and with it, bright blue skies and temperatures in the 60s. Oh my gosh! New Orleanians dug into the back of closets and the bottoms of drawers and in underbed storage boxes, and pulled out sweaters and jackets (in many case, far in excess of what the weather actually called for!), and went around that day reeking of mothballs.
It's finally fall! Folks around here were overjoyed. Late on Friday afternoon, wanting to give some out of town guests a good view of the river, I drove to The Fly and was surprised to see (although I really *shouldn't* have been surprised) the parking spaces packed, and the grassy areas crowded with young people from the uptown university campuses and young families with little kids. The Mississippi River was choppy with the brisk cool breeze ruffling the surface, and sparkling in the fall sunshine. The sky was perfectly dark blue, arching over us like a dome. It was gorgeous.
This weather made attendance at the Blues & Barbecue Festival at Lafayette Square on Saturday and Sunday swell even more, and once again, New Orleans folks were sporting their fall finery (leather jackets and wool sweaters and corduroy pants) even though it must've been uncomfortably hot for some of them. (By the way, the B&B Fest was our dog Keely's first experience of a New Orleans festival and she was very, very good. We rewarded her with just a smidgen of beef and the opportunity to lick the bowl from my creme brulee gelato. I think she was pretty happy with the overall experience, although the cold from the gelato gave her pause.)
The wonderful weather lasted until October 21, when it warmed up some, but not like it had been before. Fall has finally arrived in the Crescent City, and we love it.
This unhappy trend continued into October. The air conditioners ran like crazy (oh, the Entergy bills!!) at our house straight up to Thursday, October 15th. Everyone in the city complained and moaned and kvetched about the heat, and why oh why couldn't fall come (or at least what passes for fall in the Crescent City).
Then the rains came on Thursday evening -- great booming thunderstorms, shimmering lightening, pouring sheets of rainwater, clogging drains and flooding some streets. And Friday morning came, and with it, bright blue skies and temperatures in the 60s. Oh my gosh! New Orleanians dug into the back of closets and the bottoms of drawers and in underbed storage boxes, and pulled out sweaters and jackets (in many case, far in excess of what the weather actually called for!), and went around that day reeking of mothballs.
It's finally fall! Folks around here were overjoyed. Late on Friday afternoon, wanting to give some out of town guests a good view of the river, I drove to The Fly and was surprised to see (although I really *shouldn't* have been surprised) the parking spaces packed, and the grassy areas crowded with young people from the uptown university campuses and young families with little kids. The Mississippi River was choppy with the brisk cool breeze ruffling the surface, and sparkling in the fall sunshine. The sky was perfectly dark blue, arching over us like a dome. It was gorgeous.
This weather made attendance at the Blues & Barbecue Festival at Lafayette Square on Saturday and Sunday swell even more, and once again, New Orleans folks were sporting their fall finery (leather jackets and wool sweaters and corduroy pants) even though it must've been uncomfortably hot for some of them. (By the way, the B&B Fest was our dog Keely's first experience of a New Orleans festival and she was very, very good. We rewarded her with just a smidgen of beef and the opportunity to lick the bowl from my creme brulee gelato. I think she was pretty happy with the overall experience, although the cold from the gelato gave her pause.)
The wonderful weather lasted until October 21, when it warmed up some, but not like it had been before. Fall has finally arrived in the Crescent City, and we love it.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
J'Anita's on the Avenue
It had been some time since we ate at J'Anita's "new" location on St. Charles Avenue. ("New" is a relative term in New Orleans. It can take years for folks here to accept a new location. I myself am still calling Howlin' Wolf "the old Praline Connection." J'Anita's moved from their previous spot on Magazine Street to share space and customers with The Avenue Pub, 1732 St. Charles Avenue about 6-8 months ago.) Driving by the other day, I saw a sign out front that said, "New! Crunchy duck balls!" -- well, they had me at "duck." I knew we had to get over there and SOON.
So on Monday, Big Man and I drove over to have lunch and visit with Craig and Kimmie. We were surprised to see a completely new menu with some terrific new additions. (Note to self: don't let so much time go by between visits!) We were blown away by some of the additions: besides the aforementioned duck balls, there was an appetizer called "Buddha's Temptation" (check this: apricots stuffed with blue cheese, wrapped in bacon, and deep fried. OMG), and among several new sandwiches, one called "St. Chuck Duck." Of course, the Best Damn Fish Sammich was still there, and Big Man fell right into his favorite rut and ordered it and Kimmie's great guacamole -- along with Crunchy Duck Balls, of course. I got the St. Chuck Duck, which is slow roasted pulled duck with apples, blue cheese, pecans, and a berry chutney sauce on bread.
When Kimmie brought our food over, she confided that Craig had wanted to name his new appetizer "Panko-Crusted Duck Tenders" but that she wouldn't let him (good call!). Crunchy Duck Balls IS a better name, especially in a bar. But you could call 'em anything, even some disgusting name, and they would still be one of the best things to eat on the whole damn planet. Crunchy, tender, juicy, and very very ducky -- and that berry chutney! Wow!
When Kimmie came back with our respective sandwiches, we just raved about the duck balls. But then, we were soon caught up with 2 of the best non-po' boy sandwiches in the world. Big Man's fish sammich was everything it had always been -- overstuffed, juicy, tangy, fishy in a really good way. And the duck sandwich was *unbelievable* -- I was licking my fingers to get at every last drop.
Believe you me, that was the best $25 lunch we've ever eaten!! Kudos to Craig and Kimmie for cooking food for the public on a level WAY above expectations. See their Facebook page at:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/New-Orleans-LA/Janitas-The-Avenue/73525898209
So on Monday, Big Man and I drove over to have lunch and visit with Craig and Kimmie. We were surprised to see a completely new menu with some terrific new additions. (Note to self: don't let so much time go by between visits!) We were blown away by some of the additions: besides the aforementioned duck balls, there was an appetizer called "Buddha's Temptation" (check this: apricots stuffed with blue cheese, wrapped in bacon, and deep fried. OMG), and among several new sandwiches, one called "St. Chuck Duck." Of course, the Best Damn Fish Sammich was still there, and Big Man fell right into his favorite rut and ordered it and Kimmie's great guacamole -- along with Crunchy Duck Balls, of course. I got the St. Chuck Duck, which is slow roasted pulled duck with apples, blue cheese, pecans, and a berry chutney sauce on bread.
When Kimmie brought our food over, she confided that Craig had wanted to name his new appetizer "Panko-Crusted Duck Tenders" but that she wouldn't let him (good call!). Crunchy Duck Balls IS a better name, especially in a bar. But you could call 'em anything, even some disgusting name, and they would still be one of the best things to eat on the whole damn planet. Crunchy, tender, juicy, and very very ducky -- and that berry chutney! Wow!
When Kimmie came back with our respective sandwiches, we just raved about the duck balls. But then, we were soon caught up with 2 of the best non-po' boy sandwiches in the world. Big Man's fish sammich was everything it had always been -- overstuffed, juicy, tangy, fishy in a really good way. And the duck sandwich was *unbelievable* -- I was licking my fingers to get at every last drop.
Believe you me, that was the best $25 lunch we've ever eaten!! Kudos to Craig and Kimmie for cooking food for the public on a level WAY above expectations. See their Facebook page at:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/New-Orleans-LA/Janitas-The-Avenue/73525898209
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
We Got a Dog
Yes, you read that right. As some of my readers know, Big Man has been lobbying me pretty hard for some time now about getting a dog, and I've been promising to at least keep an open mind. On Friday of last week, we went to the Louisiana SPCA and checked out the dogs. I have to say I was pretty depressed, since it was clear that we were miles apart. Big Man was attracted to all the big dogs and the pit bulls -- imagine! And when I protested I didn't want a big dog, Big Man told me that a 55-pounder was NOT a big dog!! OMG
So we left on Friday without a dog, and without even agreeing on which dogs were cute or doable or anything.
The next day, Saturday, we decided we'd go over to the Art Museum in City Park to spend some time looking at the collections. And, wouldn't you know, when we got there, the SPCA were there doing an Adopt-a-Pet Day. We saw several of the smaller dogs we had seen the day before (yeah, because the SPCA was too smart to bring BIG dogs to the museum!) And then, while Eric was signing us in the museum's residents register, SPCA volunteers went by with a stocky black dog with brown eyebrows, who was looking around all interested and curious and everything, and had a perky walk with a bobbed tail, and for whatever reason, the thought just came to me, "That's Big Man's dog!"
When Big Man finished signing in, I said to him, "Did you see that cute little black guy go by?" and because he hadn't seen the dog, he actually thought I meant an African-American person! But I dragged him outside, and showed him the dog. The SPCA folks said she -- it's a she -- is a one-year-old Corgi-Rottweiler mix, that she's so shy and sweet that the SPCA staff had been keeping her in the office with them -- which of course is why we never saw her on Friday. They were calling her "Shirley" but they also said she didn't respond to the name at all, and that we should feel free to change it.
Within 5 minutes, Big Man and this dog were all over each other. At one point, Big Man looked at me and said seriously, "I *love* this dog." So we filled out all the papers, and the next thing we know, we're carrying her file (she's got a microchip implant!), the certificate for the free vet visit (she's already got all her shots and has been spayed), the free bag of food, her plush toy, and the dog on her leash out to the car and covering the backseat with a blanket. (We never did see anything else at the museum.) We tried out various names in the car (she was, by the way, a great passenger), and ended up with Keely Smith, Keely for short.
(Parenthetically: It's amazing to us, and more than a little sad, the number of people we have to explain who Keely Smith IS. This would be bad enough anywhere else, but since Louis Prima and Keely and their family lived in the New Orleans area for so long, and since both their music and their act have been SO influential in American pop culture, it really seems like a lack of knowledge. Maybe we're just over-devoted fans or something, but still, *everyone* ought to know who Keely Smith is. (And if you're reading this, and you live in New York City, you really should take advantage and go see her in person the next time she's appearing at a nightclub there, which she regularly does.) )
Keely Smith the dog and Smokey Robinson the cat are now sharing the same house but not yet really acquainted or anything. Possibly we made a mistake in not dragging them together right away, but we figure we'll have an iffy week getting them to co-exist. For the first few day, Smokey sulked upstairs, probably thinking what *I* thought when Mama and Daddy brought my baby sister L home from the hospital, "What do they need HER for -- they've got ME???"
We look forward to introducing everyone to sweet Keely.
So we left on Friday without a dog, and without even agreeing on which dogs were cute or doable or anything.
The next day, Saturday, we decided we'd go over to the Art Museum in City Park to spend some time looking at the collections. And, wouldn't you know, when we got there, the SPCA were there doing an Adopt-a-Pet Day. We saw several of the smaller dogs we had seen the day before (yeah, because the SPCA was too smart to bring BIG dogs to the museum!) And then, while Eric was signing us in the museum's residents register, SPCA volunteers went by with a stocky black dog with brown eyebrows, who was looking around all interested and curious and everything, and had a perky walk with a bobbed tail, and for whatever reason, the thought just came to me, "That's Big Man's dog!"
When Big Man finished signing in, I said to him, "Did you see that cute little black guy go by?" and because he hadn't seen the dog, he actually thought I meant an African-American person! But I dragged him outside, and showed him the dog. The SPCA folks said she -- it's a she -- is a one-year-old Corgi-Rottweiler mix, that she's so shy and sweet that the SPCA staff had been keeping her in the office with them -- which of course is why we never saw her on Friday. They were calling her "Shirley" but they also said she didn't respond to the name at all, and that we should feel free to change it.
Within 5 minutes, Big Man and this dog were all over each other. At one point, Big Man looked at me and said seriously, "I *love* this dog." So we filled out all the papers, and the next thing we know, we're carrying her file (she's got a microchip implant!), the certificate for the free vet visit (she's already got all her shots and has been spayed), the free bag of food, her plush toy, and the dog on her leash out to the car and covering the backseat with a blanket. (We never did see anything else at the museum.) We tried out various names in the car (she was, by the way, a great passenger), and ended up with Keely Smith, Keely for short.
(Parenthetically: It's amazing to us, and more than a little sad, the number of people we have to explain who Keely Smith IS. This would be bad enough anywhere else, but since Louis Prima and Keely and their family lived in the New Orleans area for so long, and since both their music and their act have been SO influential in American pop culture, it really seems like a lack of knowledge. Maybe we're just over-devoted fans or something, but still, *everyone* ought to know who Keely Smith is. (And if you're reading this, and you live in New York City, you really should take advantage and go see her in person the next time she's appearing at a nightclub there, which she regularly does.) )
Keely Smith the dog and Smokey Robinson the cat are now sharing the same house but not yet really acquainted or anything. Possibly we made a mistake in not dragging them together right away, but we figure we'll have an iffy week getting them to co-exist. For the first few day, Smokey sulked upstairs, probably thinking what *I* thought when Mama and Daddy brought my baby sister L home from the hospital, "What do they need HER for -- they've got ME???"
We look forward to introducing everyone to sweet Keely.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Lil Dizzy's in the Whitney
In one of the strangest adaptations and building-sharing arrangements in New Orleans, a hotel has been developed in the old classic Whitney Bank building on Poydras Street. The bank remains on the first floor, with an entrance on the corner; the entrance to the hotel is on the other side, near the Federal Building.
And since almost every hotel in the city has to have a restaurant, the Whitney has a branch of Lil Dizzy's, the Tremé Creole stalwart. The strange thing is how the space for the Whitney's Lil Dizzy's was carved out. The Whitney's original lobby, with its 2-story Corinthian faux-marbre columns topped with gold eagles, its tiled floors, and its art-deco brass fittings outlining the tellers' cages, was a hexagonal room that took up half the building's square footage on the first level. (I'm sure it was reassuring to people in those days that the bank's public face was so imposing and official-looking. Nowadays, banks look like swanky dentists' offices.)
About half of the bank's original lobby has been marked off with a half-wall about 5 1/2 or 6 feet tall (it's taller than Big Man, but feels short, given the height of the ornate coffered and dentilled ceiling). The dividing wall is painted with a full-color comic mural of the Whitney lobby circa 1930, featuring lots of silver screen stars of that era. Then the other half, complete with soaring columns and coffered ceiling and brass fittings, is now Lil Dizzy's restaurant and bar. The kitchen is situated over in the corner by one of the bank vaults (still visible); the other bank vault, a little down the hall, is now a private dining room. Since the wall only just barely separates the bank from the restaurant, delicious smells must permeate the bank when the kitchen is cooking. Must be VERY hard to work there and concentrate on what you're doing while your mouth is watering.
The bill of fare is about what it is at the other Lil Dizzy location -- traditional Creole entrées (red beans, jambalaya, fried chicken, etc.), po boys, and sides with bread pudding and sweet potato pie offered for dessert, all at reasonable prices. We were perusing the menu and getting ready to make our selections when the waiter came over and told us there was a special that evening -- Trout Bacquet. Oh well, there went the menus!
Trout Bacquet is one of the best dishes served at Jazz Fest, a practically perfect combination of fresh sautéed trout topped with lump crabmeat in a lemon butter sauce, with toasted rounds of good French bread to soak it up. No Jazz Fest is complete without eating Trout Bacquet at least once, and we usually have it 3 times or more -- it's that good. But we've NEVER had a full-sized portion before, so this was a no-brainer.
I have to say it was absolutely PERFECT. The fresh, sweet trout was golden brown and just a little crisp, a texture it never achieves at Jazz Fest, due to the challenges of cooking outdoors. The slathering of lump crabmeat was generous and was quite lumpy and not broken up. And the sauce was clear, lemony and buttery, nothing extra or superfluous. It was superb. Our plates were so clean afterwards that we looked like 2 kids angling to get dessert from a strict mom.
You have to go check out the Lil Dizzy's at the Whitney, to enjoy the atmosphere, the ambiance, the architecture, and the FABULOUS food.
And since almost every hotel in the city has to have a restaurant, the Whitney has a branch of Lil Dizzy's, the Tremé Creole stalwart. The strange thing is how the space for the Whitney's Lil Dizzy's was carved out. The Whitney's original lobby, with its 2-story Corinthian faux-marbre columns topped with gold eagles, its tiled floors, and its art-deco brass fittings outlining the tellers' cages, was a hexagonal room that took up half the building's square footage on the first level. (I'm sure it was reassuring to people in those days that the bank's public face was so imposing and official-looking. Nowadays, banks look like swanky dentists' offices.)
About half of the bank's original lobby has been marked off with a half-wall about 5 1/2 or 6 feet tall (it's taller than Big Man, but feels short, given the height of the ornate coffered and dentilled ceiling). The dividing wall is painted with a full-color comic mural of the Whitney lobby circa 1930, featuring lots of silver screen stars of that era. Then the other half, complete with soaring columns and coffered ceiling and brass fittings, is now Lil Dizzy's restaurant and bar. The kitchen is situated over in the corner by one of the bank vaults (still visible); the other bank vault, a little down the hall, is now a private dining room. Since the wall only just barely separates the bank from the restaurant, delicious smells must permeate the bank when the kitchen is cooking. Must be VERY hard to work there and concentrate on what you're doing while your mouth is watering.
The bill of fare is about what it is at the other Lil Dizzy location -- traditional Creole entrées (red beans, jambalaya, fried chicken, etc.), po boys, and sides with bread pudding and sweet potato pie offered for dessert, all at reasonable prices. We were perusing the menu and getting ready to make our selections when the waiter came over and told us there was a special that evening -- Trout Bacquet. Oh well, there went the menus!
Trout Bacquet is one of the best dishes served at Jazz Fest, a practically perfect combination of fresh sautéed trout topped with lump crabmeat in a lemon butter sauce, with toasted rounds of good French bread to soak it up. No Jazz Fest is complete without eating Trout Bacquet at least once, and we usually have it 3 times or more -- it's that good. But we've NEVER had a full-sized portion before, so this was a no-brainer.
I have to say it was absolutely PERFECT. The fresh, sweet trout was golden brown and just a little crisp, a texture it never achieves at Jazz Fest, due to the challenges of cooking outdoors. The slathering of lump crabmeat was generous and was quite lumpy and not broken up. And the sauce was clear, lemony and buttery, nothing extra or superfluous. It was superb. Our plates were so clean afterwards that we looked like 2 kids angling to get dessert from a strict mom.
You have to go check out the Lil Dizzy's at the Whitney, to enjoy the atmosphere, the ambiance, the architecture, and the FABULOUS food.
Surfeit of Festivals
September 25-27, 2009
It was an embarrassment of riches this past weekend. A well-rested and well-organized person might have been able to do a little of everything, but everyone else had to make hard choices. The New Orleans Seafood festival on Fulton Street? The opening weekend of the Oktoberfest at the (possibly doomed?) Deutsches Haus? The wonderful Alligator Festival under I-310 in Luling/Boutté (see my post from last year at this time)? If you were in the mood for a long drive, there was the "Calca-Chew" Food Festival in lake Charles (located in Calcasieu Parish -- get it?), or even the annual Seafood festival in Pensacola, Florida (a mere 3 hours away).
Next weekend, the Oktoberfest continues (every Friday and Saturday until the end of October), and the Gretna Heritage Fest rocks -- that's the one I can hear clearly through the dormer window on the second floor that faces the river, so I'm looking forward to being serenaded by Chicago!
Now that the fall festival season has started in earnest, it's time to get serious about planning ahead, and organizing your time!
It was an embarrassment of riches this past weekend. A well-rested and well-organized person might have been able to do a little of everything, but everyone else had to make hard choices. The New Orleans Seafood festival on Fulton Street? The opening weekend of the Oktoberfest at the (possibly doomed?) Deutsches Haus? The wonderful Alligator Festival under I-310 in Luling/Boutté (see my post from last year at this time)? If you were in the mood for a long drive, there was the "Calca-Chew" Food Festival in lake Charles (located in Calcasieu Parish -- get it?), or even the annual Seafood festival in Pensacola, Florida (a mere 3 hours away).
Next weekend, the Oktoberfest continues (every Friday and Saturday until the end of October), and the Gretna Heritage Fest rocks -- that's the one I can hear clearly through the dormer window on the second floor that faces the river, so I'm looking forward to being serenaded by Chicago!
Now that the fall festival season has started in earnest, it's time to get serious about planning ahead, and organizing your time!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
