3/19/2018

I saw some

Pretty Indians tonight. It made me very happy.

Verti Marte

Is famous for good, fast, cheap food in the quarter. And they deliver! I had heard that they make an unbelievably fat poboy and I am here to confirm that the rumours are true.

My sandwich was good. Mostly enormous but also good. Whereas Hank's was light on the pickle, Verti is heavy (with Frady's clearly coming in as the pickle that was just right).

I would definitely consider it for quarter eats and would try their hot table as well.

Do I need to go back? No. Would I? Absolutely.

Brother's Food Mart

Is very highly regarded when it comes to its lunch counter, and not just because it is open 24/7. The chicken (mixed) was terrific, especially the breast, which had just come out of the fryer. Perfect texture, perfect amount of breading, nice gentle bite.

The drumstick didn't hold up as well, so it might be a strike while the fire is hot kind of place. Also, though the staff is reputed to be surly, they were actually really nice. (Could be a 1 pm vs. 1 am thing.)

Extra points for Crystal hot sauce.

Do I need to go back? Probably. Would I? For sure.

If you want the good

St. Joseph's Day swag, go to St. Joseph's. (Aperol spritz not included.)

3/18/2018

Still life with trombone

When a second line saved the day

Tubaselfies

Hank's Super Market

Hank's is the largest of the convenience stores I've been to, though it's a bit of a stretch to call itself a grocery store. But the lunch counter is clean and organized and my catfish was fried to order. I also picked up a piece of chicken. For science.

The poboy was fine, but I just spent the whole time wishing I had gone to Frady's instead (nothing to do with the sullen employees). The chicken was quite good. Possibly in the top tier but I'd like to try a piece of white meat for comparison.

Do I need to go back? Not really. Would I? In a pinch, or for more chicken experimentation.

Oh noooooo!!!!!!!

Super Sunday has been rescheduled to next week!!!!

(Crying break.)

St. Joseph's Day night festivities may continue as planned. Fingers crossed.

3/17/2018

Frady's One Stop Food Store

Is run by an impossibly charming man who pointed me in the right direction when choosing my sandwich. While I was once among the ignorant who couldn't conceive of putting fried oysters on bread, I have long since seen the error of my ways, and so when he suggested oyster over shrimp, I acquiesced immediately.

He later offers to switch it up, half and half, but his oyster recommendation had already won me over. And they were perfect. Fat, but not overgrown. Juicy and perfectly breaded. I took mine with everything and recommend you do the same.

Do I need to go back? Yes, maybe this trip. Would I? You better believe it.

St Joseph's Day swag

From my first altar. It was down at the French market, so not particularly impressive, but I did walk away with a prayer card, a piece of bread (can be eaten or frozen for later to ward off hurricanes) and a lucky fava bean.

As long as you've got one, you'll never go broke. So they say.

Look closely

Handily beating my 2-tuba minimum at the corner of Frenchmen and Charters.

3 trumpets
3 trombones
3 drums
And yes
3 tubas

3/16/2018

The burgers

At Port of Call are actually good (I got mine medium and if anything it was medium rare and delicious. The bun was terrific.

But aside from that, it is exactly what you would expect from a restaurant that serves their drinks in to go cups.

Do I need to go back? Absolutely not. If you want to? I'd go with (but probably try to convince you to just get a poboy someplace).

Streetside crawfish boil

Was the Friday night freebie at the R bar.

Too bad I just ate.

The Pinettes

Packed the joint tonight. There was no room to dance. Good for them, not so good for me. (Apparently they got a mention in the NYT.)

First sazerac

Spent the afternoon with a linguist and a refugee lawyer from Detroit (the latter by way of here, from whom I got some good gas station tips).

Bar tonique
on Rampart

Key's fuel mart

For my first official foray into New Orleans gas station cuisine, I stuck close to home (convenience kind of being the name of the game).

I randomly went with the crawfish pie and one enormous piece of pale and flabby looking fried chicken, adding a packaged buttermilk pie at the counter.

The pie was fine. I ate the whole thing but don't need to eat one again.

The chicken was, while not terrific, way better than  expected. The batter was complex, really peppery. And while kind of flabby, flabby in a good way. Do I need to go back? No. Would I? Absolutely.

3/15/2018

2-tuba minimum clarification

Does not apply when the band handily fills up 1/3 of the main dance room.

Best damned yakamein I've had

#waitingfortheband

TFC brass band 
at the Green Zebra


Yakamein by EB Cooking Caterer 

Ebonethomas731@gmail.com

Streetlight trombone

It's not a gas station

Because I just needed a spot to chill, being wildly underslept, but damn! The file gumbo was good, but the fried chicken was amazing. And enormous.

Order à la carte, $1.50 for dark meat, $2.00 for white.

At Lil Dizzy's on Esplanade.

The 91?

Though at this time of day is a single bus, came in almost what you might imagine to be close to being on time.

For some reason,

It took me 20 hours to get me a cocktail.

Cane and Table
on Decatur

3/14/2018

And while I could have

And probably should have walked home from the club tonight (I could have walked in the time it took my drunk cab driver (tossed a half empty beer can out the window after taking a  glug in front of me) to get there, by which time the party had broken up), I did not and am safe at home, ready for bed. 

So...

Instead of roasted broccoli (with some sort of meat) from Bittles wit da Vittles, I wound up waiting under an overpass in a parking lot where a motorcycle club meets up and slurping oysters out of a Styrofoam container on my way back to the Autocrat club.
The woman who had sent me in that direction offered to roll over with me and the woman who helped me figure out how to order insisted on escorting me back.
She wouldn't even take an oyster.