New Orleans: Oysters, Po' Boys and Frenchmen Street (Revisited)

Half Shell Oysters

Ayk is a huge fan of oysters on the half shell.  I like them mostly as an excuse to use hot sauce.  We wanted to check out Acme Oyster House, featured on Man Vs. Food, but the line had 20-30 people outside of the door.  Pass.  We went to Bourbon House - right next door with no line. 

Oysters from San Antonio Bay with another Abita beer.

French Quarter at Night

Walking back from Bourbon House to our car, we saw a few interesting sites on Duval Street.

St. Louis Cathedral at night.  Almost looks like the Disney castle.

Almost walked right past this until Ayk pointed it out.  Given my predilection to all things shiny, I'm surprised he noticed it before I did.  A few dollars worth of pennies glued to a crumbling curb on Duval Street.

Po' Boys

We wanted to get some po'boys at Dick and Jenny’s, but they did not serve them for dinner, and there was also a two-hour wait.  They recommended we try Franky and Johnny’s not too far away.

Ayk enjoying some gator nuggets, which tasted just like chicken nuggets.  Trust me, we're not just saying that; they really do taste just like chicken.

Shrimp and oyster po’boys.  Pretty damn delicious.

Recipe for homemade cocktail sauce: ketchup, horseradish sauce, lemon, Tabasco, salt and pepper.

Frenchmen Street (Revisited)

With a long drive to southern Florida the next day, we couldn’t stay out late that night.  We decided to take it easy and headed back to Maison on Frenchmen Street to avoid drunken masses we saw on Bourbon Street earlier.

A lively caravan of partiers dancing on the street.  Yes, there are drunk people on Frenchmen Street; they're just less annoying.

The lead from Booty Trove on Friday night was also the lead of another band playing Saturday night.  We even bought their CD.  Clearly, we're pretty big fans.

New Orleans: Brunch, Market and Bourbon Street

A festive house in the Garden District

Croquette

The friend who told us to go to Jacques Imo’s also recommended brunch at the Commander’s Palace in the Garden District.  We should’ve known better than to go without making a reservation on a Saturday, but thankfully the maitre d’ suggested another restaurant close by for brunch:  Croquette.  We got the three-course brunch option that was a little pricey, but still absolutely delicious.

Bloody Mary with pickled okra and a Hannah Montana –- lemonade with blueberry juice.  Salvia not included.

Scrumptious salad with pig ears, which is just a crunchier bacon.  Ayk wasn't a fan of the pig's ear hair still on there.  Meh.  Adds to the crunchiness.

Creole classic shrimp and grits.  This was our favorite dish at brunch.

Veal meatballs with black truffle grits.  The grits were phenomenal, but the veal was too heavy and greasy.

Blood orange panne cotta.  I LOVE blood orange, and this did not disappoint.

Beignets with chocolate mousse and caramel sauces.  Fancier doesn't necessarily mean better, and that was true when compared to Café Du Monde's beignets.

French Market

After brunch we went to the French Market, jam-packed vendors selling oodles of jewelry and Mardi Gras trinkets.  We even saw a few gator heads.  I regret not getting one for my dad to match the crocodile skin in his house.

A friend recommended getting some cheap sunglasses there.  Not a bad idea, considering we were headed to the Sunshine State next.

Bourbon Street

We walked up to Bourbon Street after perusing the French Market.  Bourbon Street was not actually signed on the intersection we came upon, but we somehow knew we had arrived due to the sudden increase in public drinking.  Once we started walking down Rue Bourbon, there was no mistaking it thanks to the cacophony of loud music and revelers.

I guess Chinese New Year decorations can double as Mardi Gras decorations, too.

New Orleans is FABULOUS!

Less than a month before Mardi Gras, Bourbon Street was crawling with party-goers.

New Orleans: Frenchmen Street

Jazz is a genre of music that’s much better live than recorded.  As Ayk pointed out, when is any music not better live, other than heavily auto-tuned pop singers?  Touché.  Be that as it may, there’s nothing more captivating than listening to truly talented jazz performers on stage.  And there’s no place better to find the best jazz acts than our favorite place in New Orleans -- Frenchmen Street.

Maision, our favorite bar.

There’s a part of me that wants to sing praises about this low-key jazz haven only steps away from the French Quarter, but there’s another part of me that dreads outing the city’s best kept secret.  As one Nawlins native put it, “Bourbon Street is where we quarantine the tourists, so they don't [expletive] up the city."  (I’m assuming CNN censored “fuck,” in case you were wondering).

Booty Trove, a 12-man brass band, playing at Maison.

As much as it pains me to admit this as an out-of-towner, it’s true:  most tourists are obnoxious.  And the tourists who visit New Orleans generally want to get shitfaced.  Far be it for me to judge.  If I were in college, I’d giddily roam Bourbon Street with a drink in both hands.  So by all means, get sloshed; just stay on Bourbon Street and keep Frenchmen Street sane for those whose livers can no longer handle excessive drinking.  We come for the jazz, not the hangover.

A bartender wearing the colors of the Egyptian flag to celebrate Mubarak's resignation.

What makes Frenchmen Street so amazing is you can go into any bar and listen to the best performances without having to pay any cover (don’t be a stingy bastard; tip!).  Some bars do charge cover, but most don’t.  Hell, you can wander the street and find an amazing brass band playing on the corner with people dancing in the street.  Anything goes here.

A band playing in the street.

Even white people started dancing.  Though I wouldn't encourage it.

This guy's cheek puffed out like Dizzy Gillespie's.

The sidewalk is filled with artists other than musicians and singers trying to earn a buck.  There are painters and even poets.  We chatted with Tristan, a former music teacher turned street poet.  He didn’t much care for his boss’s teaching method, so he quit.  Now he’s his own boss, using a typewriter to crank out verses for poetry patrons, passersby, or just piss-ass drunk tourists who lost their way from Bourbon Street.  Poems range from 5 to 20 bucks.  Considering our state of employment, we went with the $5 poem.  Scribbling down a few notes, he asked us what we wanted our personalized poem to be about, and we picked – what else – our road trip.  Cherry on top of the best night of the trip: 

Tristan the Street Poet

The best $5 we spent on the trip.  Actually $10.  Ayk tipped him an extra $5 for booze money.

New Orleans: Fish in the Tank and Fish on a Plate

Audubon Aquarium

Ayk’s sister-in-law recommended that we visit the aquarium.  Though it’s not as expansive as the Baltimore Aquarium, I’m still glad we went.

Sad-Turned-To-Heartwarming Fact (the Fun Fact's killjoy cousin): When Katrina hit New Orleans, a few aquarium staff braved the storm to protect the animals.  They were told to leave once the looters took over the city.  With no one monitoring the aquarium, the back-up generators that pumped oxygen into the tanks failed.  Sadly, most of the animals died.  The heartwarming part is that aquariums across the country donated animals and help raise funds for the New Orleans aquarium.  Hooray togetherness!

Lionfish are an invasive species and have no natural predators along the Atlantic Coast.  They are apparently good eatin', just be careful of their poisonous spines.

Diamondback Terrapin.  Hi, Testudo!

Penguin!

Blue Hyacinth Macaw - the most terrifying animal there.  This monstrous bird gave me the stink eye and squawked each time I tried to take a picture, thus making them blurry.  One girl started crying when she saw it.  I hear ya, kiddo.

Haaai!

"Sorry about killing all those cute sea critters with our oil spill.  Here - take some plaques and some money for your aquarium."

Jacques-Imo’s
Seeing all the fish swim around in the aquarium made us rather peckish for some seafood.  We headed to the Garden District for dinner at Jacques-Imo’s.  If you’re going to New Orleans, put this quirky Creole restaurant on the top of your list.  It’s a little pricey ($20-30/entrée), but it’s worth it if you’ve got the money and the time.  I said time, because there will definitely be a wait.  We got there around 5 PM and we had a 30-minute wait.  By the time we left, it was nearly a two-hour wait.

Told you it was quirky.

Cornbread drizzled with melted butter and herbs

A friend suggested getting a picture with Jacques, the restaurant’s owner.  He quipped, “You sure?  I’ll break the camera.”  Though he didn’t, his animation certainly blurred the picture.

Fried green tomatoes with blackened shrimp

Gator cheesecake.  Sounds disgusting, but it is so savory and rich.  It's more like a quiche than a custard.  As for the gator?  Jacques could’ve put chicken in there and I probably couldn’t tell the difference.

Abita, a local brew.  We tried each of their beers everywhere we went.

What looks like rabbit food is actually a tasty spinach salad tossed with a light dressing with a fried oyster on the side.  And they actually do serve rabbit there.  Catfish, too.

Ayk got the Carpetbagger Steak (filet mignon with an oyster-creme sauce) and I got the Blackened Red Grouper.  So amazing.  The sides were somewhat average when compared to the outstanding appetizers and entrees; we had maque choux, collard greens, and cole slaw.  We had no room left for dessert.