The straight and narrow

So my breakfast tradition (if you can call three days a tradition), is to feast on delicious citrus I picked up at the Crescent City Farmer's Market my first morning in New Orleans.

"New Orleans," you say, "Whatever is she up to?"

She's up to eating her way across New Orleans, and has gotten a good jump.

Of course, I had to start at the Café du monde. In fact, I chose my hotel for its proximity to the fabled café. I did get turned around on my first morning, and found myself walking in the wrong direction, but I could tell I was finally homing in on my destination when I starting picking up a whiff of sweetness floating on the frigid air. You really can smell that sweet café from half a block away. There's no mistaking it.

So I totally bent the shafts by joining a table of two (table sharing would seem to be a good idea but is not at all in the tradition of the café). Then re-bent the shafts by inviting a table of three to join me, since I was just finishing up. I totally left a wake of destruction behind me.

But the beignets were divine, and, no joke, they really are served under an inch-high sprinkling, no sprinkling is the wrong word, coating? of icing sugar. Two thumbs up.

That said, there's no way I can start every day with that kind of indulgence, so I headed over and picked up said citrus. Satsumas, which have a loose skin but are kind of bland (to my thinking), Tangelos, which are delicious, but I think not Minneola Tangelos (and much harder to peel than the Satsumas) a couple of grapefruits and a bag of sweet Kumquats. So now I'm on the straight and narrow 'till noon.