- Bart Simpson once said, “When the Big Easy calls, you gotta accept the charges.” And that has pretty much been my motto for years. So in October, while having dinner with a handsome fellow, I discovered that he had never been to New Orleans—and that sounded like a call to me! That meal was our first time to get together but we had a great rapport and a lot of fun. So within a week we were set for hitting the hyped & hidden highlights, haunts, & hangouts of New Orleans.
My BFF gal-pal, former Lake Charles glamazon, Terry now lives in New Orleans.
Not that I ever need a reason to hit the Crescent City. But my BFF gal-pal, former Lake Charles glamazon, Terry, aka TD, now lives in New Orleans. So with the holidays in sight, I looked forward to seeing her too.
And though I primarily spend time with people relative to my age group, I do enjoy the perspective of someone younger—new ideas, new places, new philosophies. But an age difference can be challenging at times. During that first meal he asked, “How old are you?”
I replied, “Old enough to buy you anything on the menu.”
So this chap Constantino, or simply Tino, is a professional bartender and taco aficionado. He is bright-eyed, clever, and hip. He is sincere, and he often speaks in superlatives. I went with him to get his Christmas tree last week and he said, “It will be the most beautiful Christmas tree I’ve ever seen.”
This was going to be a nice trip!
Fine Dining
Shrimp & Tasso Henican, wild Louisiana white shrimp stuffed with Cajun ham with pickled okra in a five pepper jelly, was like fireworks to start the meal.
New Orleans is known for fine dining. And there is hardly a finer or more famous restaurant than Commander’s Palace. Established in 1893, it quickly became an important gathering point for the grandest families of the Garden District. So after meeting Terry, our first stop, before we even checked into our hotel room, was Commander’s. Why not start with the best? So we made TD’s reservation after a short stroll through the neighborhood.
And Sunday’s jazz brunch at Commander’s Palace did not disappoint, except for the absence of the customary ice block used to mix Bloody Marys table-side. My Shrimp & Tasso Henican, wild Louisiana white shrimp stuffed with Cajun ham with pickled okra in a five pepper jelly, was like fireworks to start the meal. And I think I felt the earth’s axis shift when tasting the signature Creole Bread Pudding Soufflé with warm whisky sauce. I must pause for a moment now to reflect on the warm deliciousness of that dessert…
Of course there was no shortage of food photography to commemorate each dish.
The wine list at Commander’s Palace has been called the best in the United States. And the Commander’s Palace Cabernet is worthy of recommendation—not too expensive and rather heavenly.
Of course there was no shortage of food photography to commemorate each dish. And I am not ashamed to do it; Tino enjoyed it too. Why not have your cake and eat it too?
And apparently the upstairs men’s room made an impression on Tino as well. He returned to the table and said, “That’s the most beautiful bathroom I’ve ever seen.” Link to Commander’s Palace
Antoine’s is also known as one of the best restaurants in the Crescent City. Antoine’s holds the distinction of the oldest family owned restaurant in the United States. Opened in 1840 by Antoine Alciatore, the haute eatery with a 25,000-bottle capacity wine cellar and 15 dining rooms, has served planters, presidents, and popes. By the time Frances Parkinson Keyes penned best-selling Dinner at Antoine’s in 1947, a murder mystery which began with a dinner party in the 1840 Room, the restaurant was already over 100-years old.
Charred Louisiana Oysters with seasoned garlic, herb, butter, olive oil, and Romano cheese.
Eating lunch or brunch in New Orleans for me is paramount as eating early benefits the appreciation of my meal. Simply said, I’m usually too drunk by dinnertime to taste or even remember what I ate! And the lunch special at Antoine’s is the best deal in the French Quarter. $20.19 buys three courses from a prix fixe menu: appetizer, entrée, and desert.
Terry met Tino & me for our reservation; we were seated in the back room where gothic paneled walls are covered with celebrity photographs—it is a cathedral for fine dining.
There was a beautiful Christmas tree and we paused for photos.
I’ve been dining at Antoine’s for decades—four times already this year. Sadly, and despite the fabulous Charred Louisiana Oysters with seasoned garlic, herb, butter, olive oil, and Romano cheese which were delicious, this might be my last time. Antoine’s has cache’ in its history and ambiance but the service has steadily gone downhill. Our wine, which was ordered before the appetizers, had not even been opened by the time we were halfway through our entrees. The brash and boisterous local bravado of the wait staff, which can be charming on Bourbon Street, does not merge well with fine dining. More good food and less of a waiter/waitress show is needed. When my friend Graham and I ate at Antoine’s last, the waiter literally asked us to tip him with cash–it was shocking.
Terry got up and left like her biscuits were burning—said she had to buy a new dress.
But there was a beautiful Christmas tree and we lingered for photos. Link to Antoine’s
Christmas Spirits
The most impressive Christmas display in New Orleans is, of course, the Roosevelt Hotel.
The biggest Christmas spectacle in New Orleans is the Roosevelt Hotel. A tradition for me, white lights spray heavenly, illuminating the golden marble and gilded paneling of the vast and lavish lobby.
In the historic Sazerac, Tino & I got in line. The walls of the historic bar are lined with African walnut and murals by Paul Ninas. Estimated at a value near $5 million, the paintings depict Louisiana in the 1930s, including African-Americans working in a cotton field and drinking from a brown jug. A few years ago malcontents petitioned to have the murals removed because they are offensive–the petition got less than 100 signatures; and a hotel employee, a massage therapist, filed a federal lawsuit claiming that the mural created a hostile work environment and brought her feelings of ridicule and shame. In a city so hell-bent on the destruction of monuments, I am surprised that these spectacular paintings survive. When we finally ordered, Tino was put off by the attitude of the bartenders—and I agreed with him. My Sazerac was $20 and his Champagne Lady, a name that gave us a chuckle, was $18. These are specialty drinks and once again, like Antoine’s, I get the idea that the employees are entitled tourism dollars and there is no excellence in service.
In the glittering lobby the Champagne Lady & I find a hidden corner to enjoy our potables.
In the glittering lobby the Champagne Lady & I took photos, videos, and found a hidden corner to enjoy our potables. My Sazerac, the oldest American cocktail, is exquisite, herbaceous and potent. Tino’s cocktail is Tito’s Vodka, St. Germain, lemon, blackberries, and champagne.
I needed a little Christmas. With corporate America’s insatiable appetite to fuck the money out of us all for Christmas, we have been subjected to Christmas music since Halloween. I call it prostituting baby Jesus. Like Lucy van Pelt decries in A Charlie Brown Christmas, “Look, Charlie, let’s face it. We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket.” And it has angered me and desensitized me to the idea of peace on earth and good will. So when all was said and done, the Roosevelt brightened my outlook and was an endearing stop. Link to Sazerac Bar at the Roosevelt Hotel
More Spirits
Tino wanted a picture in from of Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, the American Horror Story Coven House.
Our first tourist stop, before Commander’s Palace, was at Tino’s special request. He wanted a picture in from of Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, the American Horror Story Coven House. The massive Buckner Mansion, surrounded by 48 fluted Ionic and Corinthian columns, was built in 1853 by cotton king Henry Buckner. In fact, the house was so big it didn’t fit within the frame of my camera. But Tino got his picture.
Out on the mean streets of the Quarter, and passing a group of tourists, Tino asked, “Are they doing a ghost tour?”
“Probably.”
“Should we go on one?”
“We can,” I replied. “But I have a few good ghost sights for you.”
The Lafayette Cemetery, with 1,100 family crypts and 7,000 people, has been the backdrop for movies such as Interview with the Vampire and Dracula 2000.
We had already seen the Lafayette Cemetery, located just across the street from Commander’s Palace. Founded in 1833, it is confined within a single city block and is still in use today. The cemetery, with 1,100 family crypts and 7,000 people, has been the backdrop for movies such as Interview with the Vampire and Dracula 2000, to name a few. Unfortunately, the infamous necropolis was locked for repair so we hung on the iron gates peering through like pie-eyed children.
And technically, the Buckner Mansion is not really known to be haunted or inhabited by witches. So for a crowning jewel atop the day’s personal ghost tour we headed for Muriel’s.
Weird orbs actually appeared in some of my Seance Room photographs.
Despite my knowledge of Louisiana, and it is vast, I had never heard of Muriel’s until this past year. Jean Baptiste Destrehan, Royal Treasurer of French Louisiana and a man of vast wealth and power, acquired the property between 1743 and 1762 and built one of the most fabulous mansions in New Orleans. The grand residence was purchased in 1776 by Pierre Phillipe de Marigny but the Good Friday Fire of 1788 damaged the property. Marigny sold the property to Pierre Jourdan who repaired the mansion, lavishing the residence with fine silks, crystal chandeliers, and fabulous furniture.
A table at the foot of Muriel’s grand staircase has always been set with fresh linens, bread, and wine for Mr. Jourdan.
Many restaurants, hotels, and homes in New Orleans claim to have a ghost. But at Muriel’s, when glasses in the courtyard bar fly from the tables, it is blamed on a disgruntled slave girl. But it is the ghost of Jourdan who is the dominant spirit in residence. The only thing Jourdan loved more than his precious mansion was poker. And, oops, in 1814 he wagered the estate on a brutally bad beat. Unwilling to vacate the premises, he blew his fucking head off in the room upstairs where the Séance Lounge is located. With a rouge palette, eerie plinky-plunky music, and an inebriating atmosphere, I sipped my martini and delighted in watching my companion as he tried to fit himself into one of the gilded Egyptian sarcophagi.
In August, weird orbs actually appeared in some of my photographs.
The house was subsequently owned by Julien Poydras, President of the Louisiana State Senate, a man named Theodore Leveau, and citrus tycoon Peter Lipari. But a table at the foot of the grand staircase has always been set with fresh linens, bread, and wine for Mr. Jourdan. And Tino momentarily joined him, something you won’t do on an organized ghost tour. Link to Muriel’s
Tacos and Fried Chicken
Cunada also specializes in vegan food–but we didn’t have any.
Tino might be a taco aficionado but I have never considered New Orleans to be a taco city. So when he wanted to try the tacos I told him to ferret out the spots. And he did. We tried two places, Juan’s Flying Burrito in the CBD and, late late late night, Cunada in the Quarter. I especially liked Juan’s and we were both so famished that no food photography was taken. Both places made us happy but we might have done better moving further away from home base, like into the hip Marigny. Interestingly, Cunada also specializes in vegan food–but we didn’t have any. Link to Cunada
Late one night, our bellies already swollen, we passed a small fried chicken café next to Antoine’s, a separate space but part of Vieux Carre Pizza. From that moment on, Tino craved chicken. But when we arrived the next day, appetites ready, it was like a mirage—the building was under construction.
This strange turn of events lead to a frantic Google search for fried chicken with multiple Top Ten lists of the Best Fried Chicken in New Orleans. We settled upon Daisy Mae’s but when the Uber picked us up at the corner of St. Louis and Bourbon, she suggested Lil’ Dizzies. We eagerly agreed and she whisked away to Esplanade.
Alas, we were met at the door by the owner of Lil’ Dizzies who informed us that they were closed due to the filming of a movie.
Tino noted that Daisy Mae’s chicken was cold.
So Daisy Mae’s it was. And we were able to kill two birds with one stone by splitting a fried chicken entrée and a shrimp po-boy. The restaurant was surprisingly quiet and the po-boy was surprisingly covered with diced tomatoes—and as a tomato hater, other non-tomato hating people do not understand how often tomatoes appear on food even though ordered without. And Tino noted that the chicken was cold. But once again, like other service issues of the trip, perhaps Daisy Mae’s felt obligated to our money. The most memorable part lunch was that a vacationing Santa Clause, or his identical twin, sat next to us and ordered exactly what we did.
Actually, I wish I had spoken more to Santa because I’ve been very good my whole life and there are things I want!
Late one night, like a man on a mission, Tino finally got his Vieux Carre Wings. He literally bribed the fry cook to make one more order of chicken which we took back to the hotel room. And watching the reverence and intensity with which he devoured his chicken on the foot of the bed was the best show in the Quarter.
When finished he sighed and said, “That was the best chicken I’ve ever had.” Link to Vieux Carre Pizza
Classic Cocktails
Built around 1722, Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop is reputed to be the oldest building used as a bar in the United States.
I love the tradition of classic cocktails and time honored bars in the Big Easy.
Built in 1883 for a tobacco broker, The Columns Hotel is a lumbering 19th Century mansion known especially for its massive Doric columns; it is also known for the interior scenes for the movie Pretty Baby. It has always been one of my favorite hotels. Inside the central hall is decked with boughs of holly as we fa la la to one of the hippest bars in the Garden District.
With our bellies bloated from overeating, we ease into a quiet table and try to stuff more alcohol down our gullets. TD channeled her best whirling dervish with each Saints touchdown. Link to The Columns
The Bombay Club is in the bowels of the Prince Conti Hotel and is one of the clubs in the Vieux Carre where one can get a proper cocktail. They boast the largest and best selection of martinis in the Quarter.
I remember the Bombay Club from the days when Mark Turke ran the place. I looked around the room and ghosts of my past were resurrected. One of the wild over-the-top nights under Mark Turke’s ownership, I was partying with friends Barry, Ken Doll, and the artist David Baum. Manhattans flowed like the Mississippi and Mark opened a display case allowing David to parade around in one of Napoleon’s two pointed hats. As we ordered another round, David marched up and down the aisles of the club like he charging into Waterloo. It was the last time I ever saw David.
My last visit to New Orleans, I fell in love with the Bombay Club all over again. I was swaddled in Pink Floyd and a $6 happy hour Tom Collins within a beautiful wood-paneled Edwardian tavern. I like the bar so much that I moved in, literally—Tino & I booked our room here. With Blue Oyster Cult, the Mamas & the Papas, and the Doors pumping through the speakers, was there any other choice?
The bar bite menu includes Cajun Poutine topped with house-made pimento cheese, boudin croquettes served in a cast iron skillet, and pork belly tacos with black bean puree and jalapeno slaw. Unfortunately, Tino dislikes sweet slaw on tacos so I ate his share. The club was also quiet during our visit, so not the most impressive showing for one of my must-visits.
Incidentally, there is no link between the Prince Conti Hotel and the Bombay Club other than location. So take the wallet, as they will not charge to the room. Link to the Bombay Club
Tino took a few pictures in satin coffin, one with a flash and one without. The strange red lighting was marvelous.
We walked into Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop one sunny morning.
“I bet you make an amazing Bloody Mary,” I said to the barmaid.
“We’re out of Bloody Marys.”
I chuckled, “Good one!”
Then after an awkward moment, I asked, “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Fuck. What kind of bar on Bourbon Street doesn’t have a Bloody Mary?
Built around 1722, Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop is reputed to be the oldest building used as a bar in the United States as well as the building from which Jean & Pierre Lafitte ran their buccaneering empire. I ordered some other kind of drink and took a few photos; in one of the pics, Tino is seen sipping his vodka on a chair outside the door. Link to Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop
The Dungeon is a classic and is always a blast. Opened in 1969, is was and still is today a rock & roll scene. Only known by word of mouth, though there is a sign, the dark and intriguing bar is found down a narrow ally.
As with all the clubs, the crowds were sparse as the week wore on but we still found plenty to see. Tino took a few pictures in satin coffin, one with a flash and one without. The strange red lighting was marvelous.
The club has been visited by Queen, Kiss, ZZ Top, and plenty of others. Add Tino to that list. Link to The Dungeon
A trip well done
(“The Collapse Nap”) I even had time to do some sketching.
It is hard to believe how much we packed into one trip. We also did the French Market, we went in and out of art galleries, we went into all of the gay bars, we did sightseeing, and I even had time to do some sketching. And as with any trip to Sin City, there were activities and shenanigans that are better not mentioned in polite company–or committed to black & white.
And I am impressed with company I kept. So many of Tino’s selections were better than my tried-and-true places—and often half the price. How can I afford not to take him on another vacation?
I heard him tell one of the bartenders, somewhere, that we had already done over 12 restaurants of which I am challenged to completely name at this point.
Admittedly, some of his requests went unchecked. But in my defense, in such a big city, with so many piles of shit in which to step, not everything can be accomplished in a trip. First, the Swamp Tour was never a possibility for me—my whole life has been a swamp tour. We hoped to do dinner one night at Coop’s Place, which I think he would have loved, but the list was so long. We missed Pat O’Brien’s. And he missed out on the original Café du Monde, though he does not drink coffee which is pretty much the only thing on the menu. He did, however, buy beignets to-go for his buddies in Houston. He also wanted a commemorative tattoo and a tarot card reading—we just ran out of time.
On Monday morning up the middle of Royal Street came a full blown impromptu parade with hundreds of costumed revelers, a band, filing into the Royal Orleans ballroom. It was incredible! So some amazing things cannot be planned.
One of his requests that was fulfilled was Harrah’s Casino.
One of his requests that was fulfilled was Harrah’s Casino. With so much to do and see in New Orleans, the casino would be last on my list. I am also able to waste a pile of money without throwing it away on roulette or one-armed bandits, especially with so many entitled bartenders and restaurants who are obligated to my money for just walking through the door. I would rather tip strippers than gamble, or buy another round of drinks—drinks all around! So after flushing hard earned money down the roulette toilet I announced that I had had enough, to which abject disappointment registered on my Latino’s face.
Alas, leaving a few unturned stones will begin a list for the next time. The Big Easy will call again whether with or with Tino. Terry called him well-mannered and polite, though I think she was a little jealous that we didn’t spend more time together—she loves the Dungeon. But I think that Tino brought a unique viewpoint and verve to the week which I was energetic and intoxicating, and much appreciated. In superlative, he was the most exciting traveling companion I ever had.
One of the priorities of my trip a couple months ago was to hand deliver my portrait of Django.
New Orleans has not looked this good since Katrina. The city was clean, exciting, and continually festive. Of course, being a tourism city, there is often an air of entitlement in New Orleans with waiters or bartenders—just hand us your cash and get out. So the degree of service in Antoine’s, Daisy Mae’s, Sazerac, or even Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop might have been disappointing, but we experienced them nonetheless. And so many other venues were surprisingly outstanding—Mambo on Bourbon Street, for example, is a place to add to the list for next trip. And so many of the people with whom Tino & I interacted were delightful and enjoyable, from Uber drivers to bartenders to partiers. If laughter is the best medicine, I’ve been cured of what ails me!
And seeing such a valuable friend like Terry was the whisky sauce on the pudding soufflé. Ditto for seeing her dogs Django and Lucy. One of the priorities of my trip a couple months ago was to hand deliver my portrait of Django. Django is 18-years old and still holding his own. I worried when Terry made such a huge life change, cashing in her chips and moving to New Orleans, but it has worked well for her.
Famed novelist and New Orleans’ resident William Faulkner wrote, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” I hope this to be true because, of all my trips to New Orleans, I think this one has been the best! So I do not want it to be in the past—I want to still be in it. Because for this moment in time, my life has been as big and fun as I expect it to be.