Usually I can check the “leisure” box for my trips, but the start
of this one was all business due to a three-day marketing conference for continuing and online education. Landing at Louis Armstrong airport after a
painless two hour flight from Denver, I grabbed a cab for $33 to the Central
Business District. The Lafayette Hotel—just off Lafayette Square, which acted
as a helpful landmark—has an old world charm with French Regency style. My
suite was ridiculously spacious with a separate sitting room and wet bar, which
made toasting that night’s presidential election results an absolute pleasure.
Dinner at Mother’s (recommendation #1) was quick,
affordable, and above all else: hot damn delightful! The Famous Ferdi, as it’s
called, is stuffed with baked ham and roast beef with an au jus so supremely
salty and mouthwatering, it more than made up for the fact it fell apart in my
hands as I chowed down on the savory sandwich. Make this place your first stop
and the rest of your NOLA trip can be a total bust and it won’t even matter.
The next day I wandered through the French Quarter for my
first taste of the Crescent City in broad daylight. A small and quaint café
that would go unnoticed save for the explicit directions from Google, Café Fleur de Lis (recommendation #2) served up all the traditional breakfast
fixings and a stack of blueberry pancakes with a fluff and a sweetness not
often found outside the south.
Right around the corner I was pleased to find The Michalopoulos Gallery (recommendation #3), a special place recommended by my
friend Shelby who was inspired to get back into painting because of this art—work
that struck me the moment I saw it through the window. James Michalopoulos is like van Gogh meets Cézanne
meets New Orleans with fun yet somewhat haunting images of local architecture, all
looking a bit skewed and squished and staggering.
With food eaten and culture points
earned, it was time to learn and network at the UPCEA conference. Luckily
marketers know how to enjoy themselves, so the first night a group of us headed
straight to Bourbon Street. Once someone in the crowd noted we could drink on
the street, we stopped in at Bourbon Live for $12 hurricanes that packed a
punch, which is appropriate considering a hurricane tastes like punch punched
up with booze.
After taking in the chaotic scene of the biggest frat party
the world has ever seen, we ducked into Oceana Grill and settled in for a
lively dinner (with outside drinks still in hand—what the?!). I expected a
joint right off Bourbon Street to be overpriced and under value, but my shrimp
po’ boy was simple yet tasty, and the rest of the crew lauded the food. The
next night we ended up at Café Giovanni for “Italian with a Louisiana flair”
that did not come with flair of any variety. While the food was lackluster, the
atmosphere made up for it with an opera singer far enough away to be enjoyable
and not awkward.
The last day of the conference didn’t mark my last day in
New Orleans, since my friend Kelly decided to fly in and meet me for the
weekend. We chose to class it up and stay at Loew’s thanks to a special rate we
snagged through some university connections (and they say higher ed doesn’t
pay!). We braved Bourbon Street on a Friday night and bee-lined straight to
Fritzel’s Jazz Club (recommendation #4), as recommended to me by multiple buddies.
The place was hoppin’ and boppin’ to some swinging jazz, but whatever you do: don't dance. Signs were strewn across the club thanking us for not dancing, a fairly bemusing demand from a place with such a buzzing bravado for foot-tappin' tunes. We closed out the night at
Daisy Duke’s (recommendation #5), a truly spectacular greasy spoon with a super
sloshed clientele—one waiter even resorted to yelling “fire” to wake up a
patron who had fallen asleep in his grits.
Saturday morning started the way every Saturday morning
should: with a huge cup of coffee and piping hot beignets from Café du Monde
(recommendation #6). However we didn’t go to the main café, but instead a
coffee stand with a smaller line and hotter donut. We hopped on the pedestrian
ferry and headed over to Algier’s Point (recommendation #7), where we wandered
totally enamored by the architecture and quiet avenues. Even though we missed
breakfast by five minutes, our meal at Tout de Suite Café (recommendation #8)
proved to be one of the more delicious plates of food in a city that presents a
myriad of delicious plates of food.
Back on the other side of the Mississippi River, we
attempted to take a bus to the trolley (the trolley on Canal Street is under
construction). I say attempt, because after heading in the wrong direction and
then getting a mixed message from our bus driver, we gave up and jumped in a
cab. This ended up being one of the best decisions possibly ever made in the
history of my travel adventures, as our cab driver was the type of character I
couldn’t even fictionalize with all my creative juices flowing.
His name is Buddy Love and that’s exactly how he wants you
to see New Orleans—with Love. Without
a doubt, Buddy knows every person within a 15 mile radius of New Orleans,
Louisiana. If given the opportunity, he’ll take you to the most authentic
restaurants the city has to offer and show you the best time you may ever have
in your life. This is all speculation of course, and based off of less than 30
minutes of interaction with the fella, but I assure you—Buddy’s the best. If
you find yourself in New Orleans, there’s only one number you need to know:
281-841-7668.
He dropped us off at Tracey’s in the Garden District
(recommendation #9), after promising to pick us up the next day at 6:30 a.m.
for our flight. We downed a few Abita’s while surrounded by a sea of red-shirt
wearing Oklahoma football fans glued to the game, then moseyed toward a cemetery before it grew
dark. Another cab ride took us over to Louis Armstrong Park, where the Treme Creole Gumbo Festival presented by the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage
Foundation was rocking. We got there just in time to groove to The Dirty Dozen,
a crazy good brass band that just celebrated its 35th anniversary.
Their trumpet player appropriately describes the band as follows:
“It ends up being like a pot of gumbo – you drop in a little okra, drop in a little shrimp, you drop in some crabs. Before you know it, you’ve mixed in all these different ingredients and you’ve got a beautiful soup. That was our approach to music early on and it still is today.”
After the performance, we walked to the French Quarter and stood in long line at Coop’s (recommendation #10), but ended up being seated within a few minutes. We kicked off the meal with tangy crabmeat stuffed jalapeno peppers, which laid the foundation for the real meal: rabbit jambalaya (vegetarians need not read on). There’s no telling how long the dish was brewing, but by the time it came out, that traditional Creole flavors was simmered to perfection and the rabbit mixed well with smoked pork sausage. Far and away one of the better (and cheaper!) meals on my NOLA food-cation.
Before we officially nixed the night, we stopped into
Mother’s for a taste of bread pudding and pecan pie. No use pretending this
trip wasn’t all about the food and the drinks. There seems to be a known
protocol at Mother’s, where you enter on the side and order at the counter.
Keep your receipt and they’ll bring you your food, and then when you’re done be
sure to exit through the rear door. It’d be intimidating if the servers weren’t
all so gosh darn friendly.
A 5:30 wake-up call is not recommended after a week in New Orleans, but what made it bearable was the fact Buddy Love was waiting for us with a big grin and a wave as we checked out. He brightened our day that had only just begun. The ride to the airport was full of tall tales and past exploits, and the best moment came in the form of a drunk dude stumbling near our vehicle. “Can I get a ride?” he muttered, nearly swaying all the way over. “Fool, no! Not with these honey bunnies in the car! Get out of here,” was Buddy’s reply. And THAT’S why you need Buddy Love in your life. With Love on your side, I can’t imagine you’d have a bad time.
Everyone has an opinion on New Orleans, so here are mine: it’s a mixture of beauty and sadness, luxury and
decadence, hope and blight. It's impossible to have a bad meal there and the people tend to lean on the nicer side of humanity. There is so much more to see beyond Bourbon
Street, it’s a shame that it gets all the hype (I liked New Orleans—except for the
place everyone goes in New Orleans). But even with Bourbon Street eliminated from the list of places I ever need to visit again, there is still so much to experience in New Orleans. And that's exactly what NOLA is: an experience. I may just have to go back there. And when I do? I'll see it with Love.
