This past weekend (June 13-15), there were *3* incredible festivals in the French Quarter -- the Cajun and Zydeco Festival, the Seafood Festival, and the Creole Tomato Festival-- and Big Man and I were there for 2 of the 3 festival days. (Apparently there was also a Latino Festival going on at the same time, as an add-on or sub-festival. Oh well -- the more, the merrier, we always say.)
It was all fabulous, as you might imagine -- incredible music, interesting crafts, terrific people-watching, great sense of community, topped off with wonderful, well-priced food. We enjoyed ourselves tremendously, feeling even that the rain on Friday and Saturday was a welcome addition, as it cooled things off and, as Big Man said, thinned out the crowds a bit. The food we sampled, from the things we paid for -- the crab and crawfish cakes, the boiled shrimp and crawfish (complete with corn, potatoes and sausage, naturally), the fantastic chargrilled oysters (yikes!), the shrimp on a stick, the homemade lemonade -- to the chef's tasting freebies -- the local ceviche, the shrimp and bean salad, the incredible seared tuna with black sesame seed crust (holy toledo!) -- were uniformly off-the-charts marvelous.
One thing, however, stands out above all over foods at the fests. In a week with saturated media coverage of an e. coli scare from tomatoes imported from Mexico, our Louisiana Creole tomatoes were not only certifiably safe to eat, they were fabulous. On Friday, we bought several fat red Creoles as big as a newborn baby's head (at $1 a piece!), and couldn't wait to eat them that night at home. Sweet, tart, acidic, meaty, juicy -- they fulfilled everything you wanted in a tomato, and put me in mind of the Creoles my mom used to include in our brown-bag lunches at elementary school (Our Lady of Prompt Succor in Chalmette, if you must know) back in the day, with a little packet of salt for us to add as we bit into them. So great a taste, that you would gladly make a meal just of tomatoes (with a little Blue Plate, of course).
But then, the next day, we came across the booth selling *heirloom Creole tomatoes.* What's the difference?, you ask -- well, it's like night and day. If regular Creole tomatoes can make you hate and despise store-bought tomatoes (or maybe I should say "tomatoes"), then these heirloom Creoles are on a different plane altogether, like food the gods get to eat.
First of all, they were GORGEOUS -- bright golden yellow, orange with yellow streaks, and this strangely beautiful brownish-reddish-greenish color. We bought 4 of the biggest ones, which were packaged upscaled in a nice white paper rectangular takeout box. When we got home, I washed them, sliced them thick as steaks, and arranged them on plate with some fresh boiled shrimp. I sprinkled some sea salt, added a little mound of Blue Plate mixed with Creole mustard, and we went to it. The whole time Big Man and I were eating this simple cold dinner, we kept *moaning* "Ohmygod" and long-drawn-out "Woooowwws." It was heaven on a plate.
So now we're kicking ourselves: WHY didn't we ask that tomato farmer where we could find his heavenly heirloom Creole tomatoes when the festival was over?? (If anybody knows, please let us know. We're willing to drive.)
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Stuff They Say on 'OZ
File this under "Only in New Orleans" (after all the other stuff already there!) --
Like other die-hard New Orleanians, I listen to WWOZ religiously. Whenever I'm in my car, in the kitchen, in my office at the church, 'OZ is on, filling my hours with wonderful music that can be heard nowhere else. 'OZ is one of the blessings of living in NOLA.
Sure, sure, of course -- I know you can listen to 'OZ online, no matter where you live, and I do recommend doing just that. But there's a drawback to doing that, as I discovered while living in Jersey -- long-distance listeners have to tolerate hearing about all the terrific and cheap live local music playing in New Orleans while you're unfortunately too far away to get there. Can't tell you how many times I'd be listening to 'OZ online, and I'd have to go running into Big Man's studio to moan and cry about all the great music we were missing. On a Monday, or a Wednesday, or some other crazy weeknight, when you couldn't hear ANY decent music in the darn city you were living in. That's all I'm saying.
But it's not just the music. It's the patter, the conversations, the outrageous opinions, so freely expressed by 'OZ's dedicated staff of volunteer DJs. Sometimes, the listener wants to shout, "Yeah, you right!" (and maybe some listeners do) to express complete agreement; sometimes the listeners just have to shake their heads and smile wryly, hardly able to believe that anyone could or would get away with such shenanigans; and sometimes you just gotta laugh and say, "Only in New Orleans!"
The following vignettes are just tiny samples that I treasure:
Back during the kick-off to the French Quarter Festival, when long-time NOLA musician and "establishment" figure Ronnie Cole was awarded a place in the Bourbon Street Legends Park, 'OZ DJ and jazz musician Bob French went off on the air, repeatedly referring to Cole as a "no-talent outsider" who was really from "Illa-noise" and complaining bitterly about the absence so far from Legends Park of such acknowledged greats (and New Orleans natives) as the Neville Brothers, Dr. John, Eddie Bo, Deacon John, et al. Poor Bob was so bent out of shape by the unwarranted honor that he went on and on before and after at least 3 different records. Where else in the world of commercial radio could such a thing have happened? (When you consider that the Jazz & Heritage Foundation, which runs WWOZ, is also a sponsor of the French Quarter Fest, it's even more remarkable.)
Every Friday, WWOZ welcomes Julie Posner, of LouisianaFestivals.com, to come over and preview the weekend's offerings of what I call "fest with no rest". I do not know Julie, nor do I know what she looks like, but her voice is always full of affection and enthusiasm for all the festivals and events she talks about. She makes it sound like each and every one of these minor and major events is worth going to (and you know? they probably are). You know how it is with radio -- she sounds like a great person, and I look forward to her reports, even when the upcoming weekend is already spoken for and I know I can't go to anything she recommends. On a recent Friday, the DJ announced sadly that Julie would not be able, for some reason, to come to the studio to do her festival promotion spot. Then he said, "I know y'all are disappointed, and I am too. While this next song plays, let's all just sit and think about what Julie is wearing. Here's some music to think of Julie by." I laughed out loud.
The other day, a DJ played a terrific number by "Pops" -- Louis Armstrong to the rest of you -- from an album of songs written by Dave Brubeck, done by various artists, called "Brubeck Encounters." When the song was done, the DJ came on, read the credits, and then said, "This is a definitive album. You need to have this record in your collection. In fact, if you dare to call yourself a lover of music, you HAVE to have it. I'm coming right now to y'all's houses and make sure it's in your collection!" The DJ laughed himself, realizing it was a kind of crazy thing to say, but then he added, "Seriously, you gotta have it." Now, that's an endorsement!
Rock on, 'OZ!
Like other die-hard New Orleanians, I listen to WWOZ religiously. Whenever I'm in my car, in the kitchen, in my office at the church, 'OZ is on, filling my hours with wonderful music that can be heard nowhere else. 'OZ is one of the blessings of living in NOLA.
Sure, sure, of course -- I know you can listen to 'OZ online, no matter where you live, and I do recommend doing just that. But there's a drawback to doing that, as I discovered while living in Jersey -- long-distance listeners have to tolerate hearing about all the terrific and cheap live local music playing in New Orleans while you're unfortunately too far away to get there. Can't tell you how many times I'd be listening to 'OZ online, and I'd have to go running into Big Man's studio to moan and cry about all the great music we were missing. On a Monday, or a Wednesday, or some other crazy weeknight, when you couldn't hear ANY decent music in the darn city you were living in. That's all I'm saying.
But it's not just the music. It's the patter, the conversations, the outrageous opinions, so freely expressed by 'OZ's dedicated staff of volunteer DJs. Sometimes, the listener wants to shout, "Yeah, you right!" (and maybe some listeners do) to express complete agreement; sometimes the listeners just have to shake their heads and smile wryly, hardly able to believe that anyone could or would get away with such shenanigans; and sometimes you just gotta laugh and say, "Only in New Orleans!"
The following vignettes are just tiny samples that I treasure:
Back during the kick-off to the French Quarter Festival, when long-time NOLA musician and "establishment" figure Ronnie Cole was awarded a place in the Bourbon Street Legends Park, 'OZ DJ and jazz musician Bob French went off on the air, repeatedly referring to Cole as a "no-talent outsider" who was really from "Illa-noise" and complaining bitterly about the absence so far from Legends Park of such acknowledged greats (and New Orleans natives) as the Neville Brothers, Dr. John, Eddie Bo, Deacon John, et al. Poor Bob was so bent out of shape by the unwarranted honor that he went on and on before and after at least 3 different records. Where else in the world of commercial radio could such a thing have happened? (When you consider that the Jazz & Heritage Foundation, which runs WWOZ, is also a sponsor of the French Quarter Fest, it's even more remarkable.)
Every Friday, WWOZ welcomes Julie Posner, of LouisianaFestivals.com, to come over and preview the weekend's offerings of what I call "fest with no rest". I do not know Julie, nor do I know what she looks like, but her voice is always full of affection and enthusiasm for all the festivals and events she talks about. She makes it sound like each and every one of these minor and major events is worth going to (and you know? they probably are). You know how it is with radio -- she sounds like a great person, and I look forward to her reports, even when the upcoming weekend is already spoken for and I know I can't go to anything she recommends. On a recent Friday, the DJ announced sadly that Julie would not be able, for some reason, to come to the studio to do her festival promotion spot. Then he said, "I know y'all are disappointed, and I am too. While this next song plays, let's all just sit and think about what Julie is wearing. Here's some music to think of Julie by." I laughed out loud.
The other day, a DJ played a terrific number by "Pops" -- Louis Armstrong to the rest of you -- from an album of songs written by Dave Brubeck, done by various artists, called "Brubeck Encounters." When the song was done, the DJ came on, read the credits, and then said, "This is a definitive album. You need to have this record in your collection. In fact, if you dare to call yourself a lover of music, you HAVE to have it. I'm coming right now to y'all's houses and make sure it's in your collection!" The DJ laughed himself, realizing it was a kind of crazy thing to say, but then he added, "Seriously, you gotta have it." Now, that's an endorsement!
Rock on, 'OZ!
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