Something's Missing

Pork roll, egg, and cheese. On a round roll (usually buttered). With ketchup. If you're from NJ, you know what I'm talking about. One of the greeziest, high calorie, fat laden breakfast sammiches around. And simply divine. I'm not going to go into what, exactly, pork roll is. Because honestly, I don't know what's in it. And I don't care. I'll just say it's mainly a breakfast meat, it's good, and I can't get it in New Orleans.

I live in a city that is known worldwide for its food and, even though I'm not a seafood eater, you can tell just by looking at me that I don't often miss a meal. But sometimes you just want what you grew up with. There are very few things that I miss about my former home....my parents, occasionally (I'm kidding!), my BFF, the ocean, and certain food items. Pork roll being one, but I'd say that the biggest food void is pizza. For the most part, the pizza in New Orleans is an abomination. Some more edible than others, but not good. To give you an idea of how much I miss NJ pizza: On my last visit I took a picture of a pie with mushrooms that now serves as the desktop background on my laptop. I look at it with longing every day and want to put my face in the cheesy, sloppy, goodness of it. There is one place down here that comes close to the stuff I grew up with and that's Venezia on Carrollton Ave. But I hardly get up that way anymore. Truthfully, Italian food in general is lacking here. A lot of the Italian places are not owned by Italians. The red sauce is usually sweet, they make calzones without ricotta cheese, and I don't think I've ever found a decent chicken marsala besides the one that comes out of my own kitchen. The same goes for meatballs. I can't abide frozen meatballs. Thankfully, a new place opened in the CBD called Red Gravy (and it's not sweet!) where the owner feels the same way. Guess what? She's from NJ. I've become addicted to the meatball parm sammich over there and it saves me from having to make meatballs and sauce every time I crave them.

My list of missed NJ favorites is long - DeLorenzo's pizza, Chicken Valentino @ The Farnsworth House (their ricotta cheesecake too!), Rosario's calzone, a good cheesesteak from anywhere, Pete's Pizza @ Columbus Market, fine Italian dining in the Chambersburg section of Trenton. But I've developed some favorites here too - the stuffed chicken or chicken parm @ Adolfo's, the mushroom cheeseburger @ Port of Call, the panne'd chicken w/ fettuccine alfredo @ Coop's, the brisket w/ horseradish sauce from Tujague's served in the setting of French Quarter Festival. The one difference between the two lists is that there is a nostalgic component to the NJ list. I have some great memories that were created with friends and family while dining. I miss the dinners with a group of my girlfriends, the impromptu cocktails and dinners at The Farnsworth House, Thursday night "steak nights" and cocktails with my BFF Liz at Eddie's. I miss the female connections. I don't really have that in New Orleans. But what I do have is the luxury of taking my meals in an atmosphere that I wouldn't trade for the world. I am surrounded by beauty here, some of it unconventional and decaying, and while it may be lonely at times, I feel incredibly free and fortunate.

Now, if I could only get them to open a DeLorenzo's down here.........

Top O' The Mornin' To Ye

There was a time when my friends and I treated St. Patrick's Day as if it were a religious holiday and were very serious about its observance. It called for taking a half day from work and starting the festivities over lunch at one of the little bars that we frequented around the corner. The party then, inevitably, moved to the bar called Tir Na Nog on Hamilton Avenue in Trenton. If St. Patrick's fell on a Saturday, the day started much earlier and breakfast at a diner would be substituted for the lunch. The day always began well but ended, well.....drunk. After Tir Na Nog, if anyone was sober enough, one of the local cover bands was usually playing at one of our other watering holes or we would just stop by Eddie's (our neighborhood corner bar) for "one more". Normally, there wasn't much coherance after Tir Na Nog and we called it a night. I have some fond memories of those days, others, not so fond. But I wouldn't trade 'em. Today on St. Patrick's Day I will be going to work and probably just coming home right after. Different from the old days but equally exhausting. Though not having a hangover tomorrow will be a plus. Who knows, though? I could always end up going out, there's always something to do here and there will be plenty of St. Patrick celebrations. The parades in the French Quarter were this past weekend, but Pat O'Brien's (home of the hurricane) and Molly's at the Market will be celebrating along with the hundreds of other bars. And in the section of the city named "The Irish Channel" two rival bars will be holding their annual block party. If I decide to join the party this evening, it won't be anything strenuous. Probably just head over to Frenchmen St. to hear some music, depends on the crowds.

Last weekend, after getting through my first Mardi Gras living in the French Quarter, I was so looking forward to basking in the peace and quiet and just chillin' at the apartment with the doors open and a good book. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. First, I got a text from our roommate, Bryan, telling me that two of his friends surprised him and are on their way to New Orleans and will arrive in the evening. Crap. Then I look outside and see the neighbors from the third floor setting up a table in the courtyard and spreading newspaper on it. That means one thing in New Orleans.......crawfish boil. Crap, again. I am not a fan of seafood of any kind and the steamy scent from boiling crawfish will make me gag, (my BFF, Liz can confirm this) so my mind is quickly trying to devise a "plan B" for the day but is interrupted by the loud, lovely sounds of death metal. Blasting in the courtyard. Crawfish, a crowd of people, AND death metal. Definitely not what I had in mind for my day. Luckily, my buddy Mike was home and I went over to his place. Decided to go eat dinner around the corner at La Peniche....mediocre, at best. We used to go there all the time pre-Katrina and the food was great diner-type food served by sassy, gay waiters. This time it was cold, just o.k. food served by a plain ol' woman. Can't win 'em all, I guess. All in all, it was a good outing. I got to see Lois (our dog that we used to share when we were roommates), hang with Mike, and by the time I got home the party was over. Then Bryan arrived with his guests......*sigh*.

This is why I'm on the fence about going out tonight. I've been craving some peace and quiet and going out on St. Patrick's evening isn't going to provide that. Not by a long shot. But we'll see. I have a four day weekend ahead of me and can have my solitude then. Maybe.

Unconditional Love

Mardi Gras is over and I'm glad. There I said it. I tried to give it a chance but have figured out that I just don't like it. I will say that I do enjoy Mardi Gras Day (Fat Tuesday) which has a great local vibe and so many beautiful costumes (I envy the creativity of some people!) but the weekend leading up to the day is pretty awful. During that weekend the city is crowded with people who's main goal is to see how much they can drink and still stay alive. Not all who participate in Mardi Gras are of that mentality, I hear there is a large family atmosphere at the parades, but in the French Quarter drunkenness seems to be the goal. The idiocy is tiresome. And it wears on you. Now, I'm not saying that I never drink, but I can say that I drink MUCH less than I used to. And when I do get drunk I annoy myself at times, so I'm certainly not going to enjoy a city full of out of control drunks. With that being said, it only happens once a year and I can always choose to spend it in the house watching movies, as I have before, while staying open to the possibility of a one of a kind experience if it is offered. Mardi Gras is great for the city (financially) and it ain't goin' anywhere. An easy thing to accept in a city that offers you so much more.

Further thoughts on drinking.........I guess I've grown out of it to an extent or maybe I'm just getting old but I don't see the allure of  not being able to "get right" for two solid days after tying one on. Again, not saying that it doesn't happen, just fewer times and far between. And when it does happen, I try to annoy as few people as possible with my antics and just go to bed when I need to. It didnt used to be like this, drinking was the life of the party and I enjoyed doing it. It was no problem drinking on consecutive nights of the week, I actually wanted to! Now, if I overdo it I can't even THINK about alcohol the next day. I don't love it like I used to. But there are just some afternoons when walking through The Quarter, passing the open door of a barroom, that smell just hits you....that perfect combination of stale beer, booze, and cigarettes that makes you want to just drop everything and grab a stool. I usually can't do this, but the want is still there. I prefer afternoon drinking in grittier bars where your company is usually older "gentlemen" chain smoking and drinking shots with beer chasers, and something like "Bonanza" is on the tv. A small neighborhood bar offers a sort of escape from the daily grind. But then again, can also become part of the daily grind. And this is what always happens for me, that line is always there. I enjoy the atmosphere of certain bars....the darkness, the characters, the sound of the ice in the glass, the camaraderie, the swirls of smoke, the jukebox. But I sometimes don't enjoy the results....the hangover, the regrets, the unhealthiness of it all, the questions - "Did I make an ass out of myself?" was always popular, the losses - money, keys, credit card, license, phone. In most cases, for me, the bad outweighs the good and I don't "get loaded" nearly as often as I used to. But there are some days in The Quarter when the lure is too strong and I gotta give in. I just prepare myself for the regrets. And the shame. Because the shame is there, though not always warranted. I find that in New Orleans, shame is mostly in your mind. Because New Orleans will always accept and forgive you. She loves you unconditionally.

Let's Try This Again......

Just got my computer back this evening after the hard drive took a crap around 10 days ago. I'm less than enthused about Dell right now but am happy to get back into the swing of things. And things are definitely swingin' in New Orleans right now...."Oh yes, it's Carnival time, and everybody's havin' fun". The immortal words of Al Johnson. I believe I mentioned previously that I have never been a fan of Mardi Gras and I think a big part of that is that I just don't like parades. Especially ones where you're packed in like sardines with people who have been drinking since 7am and where you're constantly being stepped on or jostled by those same people while they scream at enormous floats, as they go by, for worthless plastic beads. Not my idea of a good time. In all of my years of living here, I have gone to only one of the large parades. It was when James Gandolfini, aka Tony Soprano, was the "king" of the Bacchus Parade. A friend of mine was going and suggested that I meet him Uptown. I wasn't doing anything and figured it would be a hoot to see Gandolfini dressed in one of those ridiculous costumes. Well, it was a big pain in the ass getting Uptown, we waited for hours in the crowd for the parade to come, saw Gandolfini for all of 10 seconds, and that was it. My friend wandered off with some girl and I was stuck with some other friends of his, a couple whom I just met, and knew it was time to end my night when the woman started hitting on me. I called my buddy Mike and begged him to come get me. Christ, maybe that experience has tainted my attitude toward the parades but I feel better sticking with my own kind, downtown, at the small parades. Two of those being Krewe du Vieux and Barkus. Krewe du Viuex is a satire of the larger parades and there is always raunch involved. Barkus is the dog parade. This year I went out to both of these parades but saw neither of them. It's like that sometimes around here. On the night of Krewe du Vieux, I headed in the direction of Frenchmen St. but stopped at the Balcony Music Club to see a friend who was sitting in with a band there. Ended up just staying there people watching and listening to the music. Barkus was this past Sunday afternoon and I decided to take Pancho out to experience the crowds to try to get him a little more socialized. We took a nice walk and  first stopped at Ragin' Daisy, a funky, sparkly little shop in the Quarter. It was through the girls at Ragin' Daisy that we came to know about Pancho so I wanted to take him over to meet them, and just across the street from the shop happened to be Harry's Corner Bar. Perfect. Since Pancho didn't seem to be very enthused about the parade, we decided to just skip it and stay at Harry's. It was a beautiful afternoon, there were chairs outside and we were still able to see costumed dogs and their people. Hell, it was better than going to the parade....I was able to sit with the dog in my lap and a drink in my hand and there wasn't any danger of having my drink knocked onto my shirt or stepping in poop. Not a bad way to kill a few hours. I haven't decided, yet, if I will give one of the larger parades another shot this year. Honestly, I just find parades to be incredibly boring. But you never know, it just might be a fantastic experience waiting to happen. It's like that sometimes around here.

Winter....Meh.

I've been reminded that I've been neglecting the ol' blog again and I'm actually a bit ashamed because it's not like I've been too busy to write. As a matter of fact, the most exciting thing I've done in the last month is watch the first two seasons of the tv show "Mad Men" on dvd. (The third is on it's way as we speak.) I guess that's not totally true....we did adopt a sweet little dog. He's a chihuahua, his name is Pancho, and considering all he's been through, I can't believe how quickly he has adapted to his new home. We've had dinner with my buddy Mike a couple of times, once at his new place and once at ours. (Mike makes a tomato cream sauce that is divine and I was craving it.) We also attended Offbeat Magazine's Best of the Beat Awards. For those of you who don't know, Offbeat is a (free) local magazine that spotlights New Orleans/Louisiana music and is an advocate for New Orleans musicians and the music industry here. It is really a shame to me that our city does not market our music more to promote tourism and show more support to our musicians, but that is another topic entirely....Anyhoo, I haven't attended the awards in years and it was a nice event over at Generations Hall. And it was also the only live music that I saw in the last month. Winter just gives me the blues and the cold makes me want to stay in the house. Hence, the "Mad Men" marathons. But everything is better in the springtime....and nothing beats spring in New Orleans, nothing! Spring means French Quarter Festival and Jazz Fest, lounging in the sun on a blanket by the river under incredible blue skies with an icy drink listening to awesome music, food everywhere, night blooming jasmine, music drifting out through people's open shutters on every street. There is just a certain, indefinable smell in the air. And I LOVE it!! The weather is warming up this week and I'm feverishly hoping it is here to stay. I want something new to signal the change in the air, maybe a new look, a haircut, something. Well, I'd like to lose about 50lbs, that would be a hell of an exciting change, but that might take a while and I would like my gratification to be pretty much instant. So, maybe a haircut it is. A sassy new look might just be the cure for what ails me. That and getting out of the house. Staying in the house makes me sluggish which makes me want to stay in the house. But with it being Carnival Season it will be easy to remedy that problem. I have lots of choices over the next few days, even have some plans on the books, and I'm delighted. Time to lose the winter FUNK!  How much better it would be if more of my out of town people would come down and experience the city! The invitation is open y'all and you would have an experienced tour guide! Come on, you know you wanna.

Mixed Bag

Since I haven't written, this post is a summary of the last two weeks of activity.....

Going back to my last post...had a great time meeting up with Dr. Sullivan and his students. Went to Sidney's Saloon (Kermit's place) and waited around for about 2 hours for the Rebirth to show up and then they only played for about 25 minutes. Not sure what happened there but it was all good, they at least had a DJ.

January 6th - Twelfth Night - the kick off of Carnival Season in New Orleans, King Cake and all that stuff. In past years I've kind of shunned Mardi Gras (I've only ever dressed up once) because, unfortunately, many people only come to Mardi Gras to see boobs, get drunk, and throw up or pee in the French Quarter. Just not a pleasant scene if you live here. But after watching the show Treme's representation of locals' Mardi Gras it made me want to give it another shot. I do have a costume in mind and I will be masking Mardi Gras this year. Anyone want to join me?

On Saturday 1/8 we had Jack and the students over to our place for red beans, drinks, and King Cake. Got to interact with them more than in the bar and they were a nice group of people who seemed to be enthusiastic about New Orleans. Had a great time! Unfortunately, the Saints lost in the first round of the playoffs that afternoon to the losing Seattle Seahawks. Oh well, life goes on.

The next day...the dogs of the land rejoiced when Mike Vick and the Eagles were knocked out by Green Bay.

Friday 1/14.....Found out this afternoon that someone I've known since childhood passed away. The slap in the face of mortality when someone around your age dies is very hard to shake. Through the "magic" of the internet we've all reconnected through facebook, and the sorrow felt by her family and friends is very real and penetrating. But the love is felt also. Makes you realize that everyone should treat each other well because life is very short.

This past weekend found me enjoying stress-free playoff football. And we even made it out for a bit on Saturday night. Hit the Hermes Bar at Antoine's for Paul Sanchez and Debbie Davis - loved them and the bar! Then moved on to the Bombay Club for the Leroy Jones Quartet. Always love Leroy and had the BEST chocolate martini, but the space is kind of dark and really pricey. A nice evening though and we went to two places that we'd never been before, which is always a good thing.

Overall I feel like I've made improvement about getting out and trying to make the most of  life. And so far I have some exciting things in the hopper for this year. I'm looking forward to it all!!

Oh, and I can't sign off before mentioning that a co-worker brought cupcakes from Sucre' in to work yesterday.......flippin' FABULOUS! Not only did they taste heavenly, they were gorgeous! Bravo!

Where It All Began

My first trip to New Orleans was back in 1996 with a college professor. And no, it wasn't as lurid as that sounds. As I was finishing up my accounting degree at Rider I saw an American Studies course that looked to be right up my alley (and would complete an elective requirement). The class was "The New South in Literature, Music, and Film" and the professor was Dr. Jack Sullivan. It was my first exposure to Tennessee Williams's "A Streetcar Named Desire". Though the class was an abbreviated summer class, Jack and I formed a bond and became friends. He even tried to persuade me to change my major to American Studies. As attractive as that was, my degree was only a short distance away and the thought of starting over (again) was overwhelming. I took another of his classes and at the end I received my degree. That was also when Jack told me about New Orleans. He said that he brings a class to NOLA every year because he considers it the most unique American city, perfect for American Studies credits. He told me he thought I would love it and encouraged me to accompany them. I did, and the rest is history. I couldn't have had a better guide. We saw The Nightcrawlers at Donna's, Kermit (with BBQ on his pick up) at Vaughn's, Leroy Jones at Preservation Hall. Some of whom I am fortunate enough to consider friends to this day. We ate memorable meals (most memorable was at Emeril's NOLA where I ate myself sick) and saw beautiful sights. By the end of that first trip I knew New Orleans would be my home some day. And now it is. I'm writing this because Jack and his class of 20 students are arriving this afternoon and I'm excited. Over the years I haven't always been able to meet up with them for various reasons but I always love the idea of people being exposed to my adopted city for the first time. I love seeing and hearing their reactions to it, and always wonder if one of them will feel the pull that I felt. And it was a pull, when I went home after that first trip I was constanly wondering what was going on down here. That wonder never went away. I also credit that first trip with motivating me to get out of an awful, stagnant, four year relationship. Life's  possibilities were endless to me after spending time in this city. I always hope that another student will feel this. I'll be meeting up with them this evening and heading over to Kermit's bar (Sidney's) to see the Rebirth (Brass Band). Maybe I can make them see just a bit of what I see.