Category: New Orleans

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A very happy cutie pie waiting for oysters at the counter at Casamento’s, one of New Orlean’s legendary eateries.  Everybody goes there for the fresh raw oysters.  David and his best friend Josh are known to practically move into the restaurant for the afternoon, downing dozens and dozens of New Orleans oysters between them with nothing much more than a drop of Tabasco on each one, oh, of course, and a lot of beer. 

As for me, I dream of Casamento’s when I’m not in New Orleans, but not about the raw oysters.  I dream of their Oyster Loaf.   I dream of this…

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There are simply not enough words in the English language–même le Français–to describe how much I love beignets at Café du Monde in New Orleans.  The crispy, pillowy goodness of fried dough, arriving in triplicates buried in a mound of tooth-achingly sweet powdered sugar, were just far too much for my senses to process.  They caused a temporary bend in my space and time continuum, and before I knew it there were mere crumbs left on the plate where three, six, nine of those babies once were.  Aided and abetted by the bottomless cup of sweetened, milky, nutty, chicory-infused New Orleans coffee, I couldn’t resist but to ask–no, beg–for more.

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Josh and David decided that my one formal meal in New Orleans would be at Galatoire’s. So on the second night of our quick three-day trip, Jill and I, and even the boys, got all dolled up and went down to the Quarter.

Galatoire’s is where people in New Orleans go to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, their daughters’ Sweet Sixteen Parties, and whatever special occasions life throw at them. This is the kind of place that is at once grandiose and uncouth, not unlike the city of New Orleans herself.

We sat in the raucous downstairs dining room, not the newer and posher one upstairs. That’s the way to do it, the two New Orleans boys Josh and David insisted. We had made a reservation, of course, in the wonderfully quirky reservation system that they have. At Galatoire’s one doesn’t call the restaurant for a reservation. One calls one’s favorite waiter, who would make certain there is a table waiting on arrival.

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