Halloween in the Crescent City

It's October 31st and it's another gorgeous fall day in New Orleans, perfect blue skies, soft breezes, rather warmer than usual, about 75 degrees, and you know what that means: more nudity in the French Quarter tonight for Halloween once the sun goes down. (I said that to Big Man, and his reply, "Oh, that -- it started last night actually.")

Halloween in the Crescent City starts early in the day, to make it last longer. And it's not just little kids who jump the gun and put their costumes on in the daylight -- all over the city, otherwise respectable grownups gleefully don wigs and silly outfits and cutesy Halloween vests and earrings the morning of the 31st. Or even earlier -- several women in the "One Book, One New Orleans" discussion group last night sported fluorescent green, pink, purple, and blue hair swatches as we talked and cried over Tom Piazza's "City of Refuge."

The women behind the counter at Rocky & Carlo's in Chalmette were dressed as witches as soon as they opened this morning. (God bless them for the reopening after Katrina, and for having the most wonderful New Orleans-style comfort food on the planet.) A young man in the his 20s leaned nonchalantly and unself-consciously against the railing at a local bank, waiting to use the ATM machine while wearing Peter Pan green tights, brown elf-boots, and a ragged green tunic (he was either Peter Pan or Robin Hood, hard to tell). A middle-aged black woman emerged form a store on St. Charles Avenue, snazzily dressed in outrageous day-glo tie-dye skirt and top, accented by a belly-dancer style scarf replete with dangly coins around her ample hips. She laughed and waved and wiggled as a car going by beeped its horn at her. As I've written before, normal for here.

The Rouse's had an all-day trick or treat for little kids in costume in the store and so the parking lot was full of cars unloading tiny princesses, turtles, tigers, bears, kitty cats, and lots of superheroes. A young mother walked past me, holding a little daughter by each hand, one a princess and the other, as she proudly called out to me in response to my Happy Halloween greeting, a Little Mermaid. Inside the store, a woman was on her cell phone seriously discussing the price of various cuts of meat with someone on the other end, while wearing a low-cut red dress, a black cape, and a headband with devil horns.

It's perfectly normal here to go way overboard in decorating your house, and you don't have to justify it by having children. (We don't, and you should see the front of our house!) One of our next-door neighbors has decorated her house, and she's not even going to be home tonight for any trick or treaters. Of course, some people do the whole decorating thing, and are on everyone's must-see and must-visit list for Halloween. The Bergers on St. Charles Avenue have gone all-out with about 2 dozen skeletons posing all over their expansive front yard, ghosts dangling from the sprawling old oak trees, and various tombstones, ghouls, and other appropriate decorations all over the front of their lovely home. Plus, they are known for their high-quality hand-outs -- no cheap hard candy for them!

This year, New Orleans has its first annual (remember what I said before about doing it once and then it's annual?) Halloween Parade by the self-proclaimed Mr. Mardi Gras, Blaine Kern (with the bad rug on his head). Big Man and I got a preview of some of the floats a few months ago when we visited Mardi Gras World with our nephew -- they are large and scary and decorated with the new kind of LED lights that change color. Kern was interviewed in the media, and he was great. (No one's a bigger NOLA booster than Blaine Kern!) He said, "We got voodoo, mojo, gris-gris, zombies -- we should be the Halloween capital of the country!" Which was really funny, since he made it sound like all that was on every other street corner of New Orleans every day -- which, I guess, is not far wrong.

Gotta love this place.

Perfect

There are days, whole weeks even, in the month of October where everything seems perfect. It is as though all the elements -- the weather, the breezes, the smell of the flowers, the clear true blue sky, the gloriously mild temperatures, the sweet sunshine -- have conspired to make New Orleans the most beautiful place on earth. Your body receives the coolness like a gift, and somehow your mind almost forgets the heat and humidity of just a few weeks before. Natives think longingly, "If only it could always be like this!"

I always think to myself that folks who visit New Orleans for the first time in October (or its counterpart in spring, April) must wonder what all the hue and cry about the weather in the Crescent City is all about. "Why, it's absolutely perfect here!" they must exclaim in wonder.

Big Man and I have been making the most of these perfect days -- long walks and long drives, sitting on the seawall at the Lakefront, picnicking under a shelter and watching the sailboats scud along, their colorful spinnakers bellied out. Even yard work is no real chore, and Big Man cleared the oleander that was threatening to take over our little brink courtyard in the back. Up North in the fall, folks have to clear fallen dead leaves -- we have to chop back bushes and plants that continue to grow and thrive well into November and even December.

Flowering plants that had wilted in the appalling wet heat so recently past are now jauntily holding their bright heads up. The city is still full of flowers, who seem very happy not to have to cope with high temperatures and humidity.

Magazine Street is once again thronged with strolling shoppers and in the French Quarter, the "season" (tourist and affluent conventioneer season, that is) has started in earnest. Locals mildly complain about how "cold" it is once the sun goes down, but everyone from "away" knows this is not cold at all, it's just like having air conditioning outside.

Sunny, breezy days and cool, clear nights -- it's perfect.

In Praise of Doberge Cake

My sister L and I are one year and nine days apart. (Some would call that "Irish twins.") When we were little, our mother used to pick a day in between the two birthdates and would throw us a joint birthday party. Then we grew up and wanted our own birthdays, and did not celebrate together. And now, years have passed, and Katrina has happened, and all of us siblings are back together, and celebrating our united birthdays is just fine.

For this joint birthday, the family cook-off was scheduled. (See previous post on my winning the cook-off for the first time. Since, I won a second time.) While it may seem strange that the two birthday girls would buy their own cake, we knew what we wanted, and L and I went insies on a half and half doberge cake inscribed "Happy Birthday" in icing with our childhood nicknames.

Half and half doberge is very popular in New Orleans -- where, of course, more is more -- but most other people pick chocolate and lemon. That combination is so popular, in fact, that Gambino's keeps those ready-made in their cooler. But ours was special, put together just for us: half chocolate and half caramel. Ohmygod, caramel doberge -- is there a better sweet flavor in the universe??

For those of you "not from here" who do not know what doberge is, first of all, I'm so sorry for you. Really, my heart goes out to you. Anyway, here's what it is: 6 thin layers of butter cake (baked individually, not cut) alternating with a rich flavored custard, covered first in butter cream and then finished with fondant icing. Doberge cakes come in chocolate, lemon, or caramel, and half-and-half combos. Commonly thought to be descended from an old Alsatian dessert ("dobos") by a German immigrant to New Orleans, and then renamed to fit Creole sensibilities, doberge cakes are made only by old New Orleans bakeries Gambino's () and Haydel's, which makes theirs with 5 layers and only in chocolate ().

The night of the cook-off, even though we had all eaten royally, if not piggishly -- the theme was seafood, and dinner consisted of seafood gumbo, shrimp and eggplant beignets with remoulade sauce, scallops carbonara, shrimp and crabmeat casserole, and mixed lettuce and tomato salad -- there was still a mighty clamor when the birthday candles were blown out. How full could they have felt, if they, each of 'em, every one, asked for a slice from each side, so as to get both heavenly flavors?

I give thanks to Mrs. Beulah Ledner, often given credit for bringing the doberge cake to New Orleans, to Gambino's, for so excellently carrying on the tradition, and to my family, for providing the excuse and the context for this doberge-eating orgy. I cannot think of a better way to celebrate our birthdays!