 
 "Eating, drinking and carrying on..." -- Adelaide Brennan
"Plan Calls for $3.5M Katrina Memorial" Um ... no.
No. No Arc de Triomphe, no millions wasted on something like this. Not until every home is rebuilt, ever family is back home, every school is back, the cracked pipes are fixed, the city is safe from storm surges, and every musician's lost instrument is replaced. Any private donor who would give money to this and not to rebuilding efforts and local charities should just keep it. Jazzfest '07, Day 3. We had a bit of a food hangover from Becky's JazzFEAST, unsurprisingly. Eating was a bit light at Fest today, although what it lacked in quantity we certainly made up for in quality and fabulosity. Although I'm only featuring two dishes here in the photos, I must point out that I did start my Jazzfest day as always with another Creole's Stuffed Bread, washed down with a Strawberry Lemonade, one of the best things to drink at Fest. (I don't know why people waste their time with that crap beer they sell.) Between our own experience, recommendations from friends and also from local food writers, we were determined to not only try new stuff but to also hit the "Best of Fest" food items, two of which we covered today. 
Pheasant, Quail and Andouille Gumbo from Préjean's Restaurant in Lafayette is a don't-miss dish. Rich and smoky and full of dark, flavorful game bird meat, with a nice dark roux, Cajun-style (natch). So, so good, and a perennial favorite (except for last year ... our serving was way too salty last year, which was a bizarre anomaly we were glad to see had been fixed this time around). Then came ya piece o' da resistance .. 
The Soft Shell Crab Po-Boy had gone up to $9 this year, and it was still worth every cent. This is one of the ultimate examples of taking a fantastic ingredient, treating it simply and letting it speak for itself. A battered and deep-fried whole crab, unbelievably crabmeaty and loaded with crab fat to boot, very un-greasy, on perfectly crisp and airy French bread as only New Orleans bakers can do properly, with just a little hot sauce. Heaven ... I'm in heaven ... and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak ... and I seem to find the happiness I seek ... when we're out together eatin' soft shell crab! (Um, sorry Irving.) Oh, um, and I had another Chocolate Eclair too, and a smooth, icy Mango Freeze when it got really hot. The freeze is another must-get, and proceeds from freeze sales support WWOZ, the greatest radio station in the universe. Okay, music now! A sampling of photos is below; you can see the entire Day 3 set here. First off were The Bluerunners from Lafayette, a Cajun "garage rock" band that play some pretty raucous songs but also excel at doing traditional Cajun music, in their own offbeat style. One commenter on my Flickr stream expressed surprise that they were still around -- not only are they still around, but their two most recent albums, Honey Slides and Live at the Triple Door are two of the best.  
Next a brief sojourn in the Gospel Tent (which you should always try to do every day if you can, because not only is the music fantastic but those of us who are not as young as we used to be can get out of the sun and off our feets) for one of my long-time favorite gospel groups, Betty Winn and One-a-Chord. The tent was crowded but not nearly as crowded as it'd be next weekend ... more on that later. 
Then we were off to Congo Square for two great acts in a row -- local Latin superstar Fredy Omar. He's from Honduras, but he and his very talented banda play music from all over Latin America and the Caribbean. ("Fredy Omar con su Banda" is how they're usually billed, and fortunately this year there was no idiot stage emcee introducing them as "Ladies and gentlemen, Fredy Omar and Consubanda!" We're still makin' fun of that guy.) Next was a wonderful set of African music from a Guinean musician named Ba Cissoko. He plays the kora, a 21-stringed harplike instrument from west Africa made of a large gourd. I love this stuff, and have loved African music since my days doing my radio show right before "The African Beat" (Hi CC, Solomon and Ade!), back when KCRW used to be good. Two kora players, a bassist and a percussionist, and that was an incredible amount of music to come from just four guys. 
On to the Grandstand, where I finally got to see the legendary Bobby Lounge, whose absurd, sarcastic songs delighted Jazzfest audiences for the first time only last year (and of course, I missed it, including his Big Entrance in which he was wheeled to the stage in an iron lung). No iron lung this year, but plenty of great songs, laughs and silly antics, such as when the "Squirrelsquatch" (a mythical Mississippian beast) arrived incarnate, snatched a young lady's dress off and ran away with it. They ended up dancing on stage together ... all part of the show, of course. Bobby's a bit too much to explain here; follow the link and learn more about him. Get his two albums too, they're wonderful. 
Mango freeze in hand, we headed off to the Fais Do-Do Stage to catch Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. I love these guys, and was glad to see them booked at the Fest. They were certainly the quietest artists I'd seen the whole time, perhaps ever, but I'm a huge fan and hey, we need a little relaxation amidst all the funk. 
Moving right along ... and making up for the music that I didn't see yesterday with all these acts, next was the fabulous Miss Leigh "Little Queenie" Harris and band, a highlight of my Jazzfest for a long time now. She always puts together an all-star band, which featured several longtime collaborators, including Jimmy Robinson of Woodenhead and Twangorama, C.C. Adcock from Lafayette, Matt Perrine on sousaphone, The Pfister Sisters on vocals, Joshua Paxton on piano, plus her hubby Rick Ledbetter on bass and her son Alex McDonald on rubboard. This was a great first course for a long-awaited Little Queenie & the Percolators reunion that'll be happening later in the evening at Southport Music Hall out past the Riverbend.  
 
By the way, Leigh and fellow Percolator John Magnie (now of the subdudes) have compiled a CD of Percolators studio and live rarities entitled Home. Yeah you rite! Given that the only Percolators record ever to come out was a 45rpm single of "My Darlin' New Orleans" b/w "Wild Natives" (included on the CD), this is not to be missed for any Percolators fans. Buy it at the Louisiana Music Factory. We split up here for a bit -- I forgot who Wes went to see, but I wanted to catch a bit of C. J. Chenier and the Red Hot Louisiana Band at the Blues Tent. It'd good to see him carrying on the family tradition from his father The King. So few young zydeco bands nowadays, if any, even seem to acknowledge the existence of Clifton Chenier. 
Headed out after four or five songs to catch some of Big Chief Monk Boudreaux and the Golden Eagles at the Jazz and Heritage Stage. Monk's one of the great Indian chiefs, and a great singer too. His band, as always, smoked. 
Then to wind down with some vocal jazz ... Topsy Chapman and Solid Harmony, accompanied by Don Vappie on the bass and among others, Craig Klein (of Bonerama and more) on the trombone ... one of the hardest working musicians in the city, whom I saw playing at least three or four times a day every day. As my old classmate Tim Laughlin says, "There are 10,000 bands in New Orleans but only 10 musicians." Heh. 
Then home again home again, to scrape off the Jazzfest gunk, get some dinner and head out to see Li'l Queenie and the Percolators! [ Link to today's entries ]
"I thought you were dead!"
I first saw Charles in the sitcom "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir," as the nervous and twitchy Claymore Gregg, when I was about six years old. watching his "Match Game" appearances after school every day, in which he was funny funny funny. The risqué elements to his humor went over my head at the time, but I could still tell he was being naughty. One MetaFilter comment put it best: "It always felt like I was watching a fun grown up party that I wasn't supposed to be awake for." (It always looked like a lot of fun too. Indeed, a friend of mine once sat next to Brett Somers at a show, who told him that "Match Game" was the best job she'd ever had -- she got to hang out and crack jokes with her friends all day, not infrequently after a tipple or three.) Charles was also the title character of what's got to be one of the best hours of television I've ever seen, the episode of The X-Files entitled "Jose Chung's From Outer Space." "And though we may not be alone in the universe, in our own separate ways, on this planet we are all alone..." I was also very fortunate to have seen him at the Falcon Theatre a few years ago in the career-defining one-man play he wrote and performed during the last decade of his life, the phenomenal "Save It For The Stage: The Life of Reilly," which I just discovered was made into a film; I can't wait for its DVD release. It was funny and touching, hugely entertaining and enlightening as well with regards to his career. While some may dismiss him as just some guy on a game show, he's been a respected Broadway theatre and opera director for decades, directed Miss Julie Harris ("The First Lady of American Theatre") in 15 productions, and was a longtime acting teacher. (His acting school classmates, under the tutelage of Uta Hagen, included Jason Robards, Geraldine Page, Hal Holbrook, Charles Grodin and Jack Lemmon, and in later years he taught at the same school; his students included Lily Tomlin, Christine Lahti and Bette Midler.) Watch some clips from the film, especially the one called "Television. One of my favorite CNR anecdotes (which I wish I had seen) involved one of his many appearances on "The Tonight Show" with Johnny Carson. Another guest, who was talking about Shakespeare, "dismissed Reilly's attempts to join the conversation," according to the Los Angeles Times. "He silenced her by delivering Hamlet's 'the play's the thing' monologue straight, with depth and passion." Charles recreates the moment here, in another scene from "The Life of Reilly." "The world is a slightly less funny place now," said Paul Linke, Charles' friend and the director of his one-man show. "He made people laugh along the way, and that's a legacy that lives on long after the game shows." But speaking of the game shows, last night Wes and I watched tons of clips from "Match Game" and laughed and laughed. I grew up watching Charles Nelson Reilly, who he made me laugh a lot, sometimes every day, and I'll miss him. Thank you, Charles! We love you! (And by the way Charles ... while many headlines indeed reported your passing with the phrase "'Match Game' Regular", I think more of them led with "Tony Award winner." So there ya go.) [ Link to today's entries ]
Good food news! I got an email (thanks, Carolyn!) with great news ... the Bistro at Maison de Ville is reopening! They had a special reopening celebration yesterday and are now taking reservations for a an official reopening on May 29. Woo!
That's fantastic news! The Bistro has always been one of my favorite restaurants in the city, and the prospect of its not returning was depressing. I wonder if they'll be able to coax back their longtime maitre'd Patrick van Hoorebeek from his new gig at Peristyle? That'd be the perfect finishing touch to this great restaurant's return. JazzFEAST 2007! It's become somewhat of a tradition over the past several years for Wes and me to get together with a bunch of my oldest friends during Jazzfest, hang out, drink wine and have a sumptuous meal. The venue has always been the home of our friends Dean and Becky -- Dean and I have been friends since our tender teenage years. We both worked at Da Show (i.e., the Village Aurora Cinema 6 in Algiers) and the rest is, as they say, history. Dean's wife Becky is a fabulous cook, so this is generally one of the highlights of our year. Wine fan that he is, Dean's cellar is always full of tasty stuff. This year was no exception. 
Acquired at a charity auction, this 1981 Château Mouton Rothschild, a very intense Bordeaux, officially became the oldest wine I've ever tasted. (In fact, if I recall correctly, it came from the same year I met Dean.) I'd never tasted anything quite like it. There was a lot going on in there -- oak and leather in the nose; dried plums, toasted spices and flavors of coffee and tobacco and even a little bitter chocolate on the palate. Wow. Some Champagne came out too, and cheese, and sausages, and pâté ... and the meal was as fabulous as we expected. 
I'm not sure this dish had a name, so I dubbed it "Oysters Becky" -- fried oysters and creamed spinach atop artichoke bottoms, with Hollandaise sauce and crispy bacon. Yay! 
Next, Cream of Portobello and Garlic Soup, with goat cheese and a drizzle of truffle oil. The goat cheese had a tendency to sink, so it's not terribly visible in the picture, but boy did it taste good in this. 
Main course -- Filet of Beef Tenderloin with veal demiglace, oyster mushroom cream sauce and haricots verts. That demiglace had reduced all day. Oh my. 
Finally, dessert! Louisiana Strawberry "Jelly Roll" and homemade Angel Food Cake drizzled with Chambord. Becky made the cake (which was a great idea -- a lighter dessert after a big beefy creamy buttery meal), and Guy and Kimberly brought the jelly roll, which was super-good. She also brought us each a jar of her homemade Louisiana strawberry preserves, and I'm currently debating whether to save it for a special occasion or just, maybe, pig out on it this weekend. We're already looking forward to Jazzfest '08! Sigh. I've been feeling a growing dissatisfaction with my food photography lately. It's overly documentary -- yes, there's the meal, but taking a flash picture of a plate looks flat and awful, and I feel pretty self-conscious popping off a flash in a darkened restaurant (you'll hear lots more about that when I tell you about our meal at Restaurant August). I need some better equipment, for one -- a little table tripod that'll allow me to keep the camera still for long, low-light exposures. A camera with far greater low-light sensitivity than mine (just setting the effective ISO speed at 400 introduces boulder-sized "grain" and noise, and unwanted artifacts). The ability to actually SEE through the lens and FOCUS images myself! Although my camera is considered "prosumer", it is not a single lens reflex. I despise autofocus. I come from a 35mm still photography background, and if I'm going to get serious about digital photography I need serious equipment, not what's basically a point-and-shoot with a few bells and whistles on it. I've also been doing some reading about food photography, which is a beast unto itself. All this to say, I'm going to start working on improving the quality of my food photography as soon as I can. I hope this means that the dishes will look even tastier, and the food porn even more gloriously obscene. [ Link to today's entries ]
Jazzfest '07, Day 2. It was a comparative lazy day and a short one as well, as that evening we had been invited to the home of our old friends Dean and Becky for the annual event we're now calling JazzFEAST -- good friends, lots of wine and great food. But we did manage to eat a lil' bit to eat at Fest though (natch). 
The Fried Soft Shell Crawfish Po-boy is one of the Jazzfest Food Areas' many works of art. It's a very different experience from the soft shell crab po-boy, and yet another food item that I must not miss. Farm-raised soft-shell crawfish, battered and fried in their entirety, dressed with a little hot sauce and scattered with battered, deep-fried jalapeño slices ... all on perfect French bread, of course. Then there was ... The Eclair. We had actually had this yesterday on Fest Day 1, but I was so flummoxed by it, so flabbergasted, so gobsmacked, so astonished and delighted that I just stood there right in front of the stand (probably in the way) until it was gone, allowing myself no time to photograph it. The mistake was not repeated today. 
The eclair was a new thing this year, from an old vendor -- Angelo's Bakery in Metairie, who'd had a booth at Jazzfest for over 15 years selling brownies, coconut macaroons and other baked goods. This year, though, they introduced two new products -- the chocolate eclair and the cream puff. Both perfect, classic French pastry, with textbook pâte à choux iced with chocolate ganache and filled with pastry cream ...or so I thought. 
No, my friends, not pastry cream ... but chocolate bavarian cream! And the whole thing ice-cold out of the refrigerator. I had one of these almost every day this year. Later on at the Gospel Tent we met up with Michael, who'd be at dinner with us that night. "I just talked to Dean, and he gave me the rundown on what Becky's fixing tonight," he said. "If I were y'all I'd stop eating now." Uh-oh ... but, but ... I was still hungry! There were more dishes to try! But the last thing I wanted to do was "sperl my appetite," as my Granny would say. This dinner gathering is one of the highlights of our Jazzfest. So we decided to try one thing big enough to share among four, and got some help from Sarah and Peter. 
A combo platter from Li'l Dizzy's Restaurant on Esplanade up by Claiborne, the latest joint run by the well-known Bacquet family who've been cooking locally for years. Trout Bacquet, a classic going back to Eddie's Restaurant on Law Street, is a nice, big, well-seasoned piece of trout pan-roasted in butter and topped with lump creabmeat. (Oh my.) Accompanying it was a bowl of Louisiana cuisine's most labor-intensive dish, Crawfish Bisque, a thick stew dotted with stuffed crawfish heads (the stuffing made from chopped crawfish meat, onions, bread crumbs and seasonings) served over rice. There were four heads in there, and four of us eating it ... the ideal dish to share! We did hear some music that day, although we had to leave early in order to get showered and changed and deep into the Westbank by 7:00, starting with another of our don't-miss acts at the Gospel Tent:  
This is The Johnson Extension. (Okay, okay ... go ahead and giggle, you sixth-graders! To be honest, we giggled too, first time we heard the group's name). They're all one big extended family called Johnson and they all sing together, get it?! They're one of THE best acts at Jazzfest. Interestingly enough they're Catholic, which I didn't know until this year; I like seeing the inclusion of black jubilee gospel music into Catholic tradition, thinking of the dirgelike, soporific music at the church I grew up going to). We never miss them. We trudged down to the cursed Gentilly Stage to catch some of the Charmaine Neville Band set, of which we caught about 2/3. It was mellower than last year's set, more jazzy and bouncy and with less of the passion and anger she expressed a mere eight months after the flood. Oddly enough Jazz Fest Live recorded this year's set for release on CD, when last year's would have been the way to go. We relaxed on the blanket and under the umbrellas clipped to Peter and Sarah's chairs, and could hear well but couldn't see a thing -- we were way, way in the back. We did manage to get a little closer for the next act that I had been hoping to see ... and hoping would actually show up. Bobby Charles, whose big hit was "See You Later, Alligator" and who wrote piles and piles of great songs in his career. There was some question as to whether he'd make it, though; he's a notoriously reticent performer and private person, and he's been suffering from debilitating back pain over the last several years. They'd pretty much had him talked into it, his pain situation willing, but then he started feeling bad and to deliver the death blow had a dream in which he showed up to perform at Jazzfest and got shot. (Um ... okay.) So, sadly, no Bobby Charles when we arrived at the stage. But what we did get was a Bobby Charles Tribute, featuring Marcia Ball, Sonny Landreth, Dr. John, Shannon McNally, David Egan, Parker James and Pat Breaux playing a bunch of Bobby's songs. 
It was mighty good. Keith Spera has a few more details. It was at this point when we picked up our trout and bisque, did a little bit of shopping and heard part of Steve Riley & the Mamou Playboys' set, and then headed out to scrape the Jazzfest muck off of us and head to dinner. (And we ain't seen nothin' yet muckwise.) JazzFEAST post tomorrow, I think. :-) [ Link to today's entries ]
Mr. Go, you've got to go! FINALLY! "The Army Corps of Engineers plans to recommend the immediate closure of the Mississippi River-Gulf Outlet, a corps representative told a cheering crowd of about 100 at a town hall meeting Saturday in Chalmette."
Options 2 and 3 are completely unacceptable. Option 1 is the only way to go, and it must be done ... yesterday. But do we trust the Army Corps of Engineers not to screw it up? Bonsoir, Bois Sec. Creole accordionist and singer Alphonse "Bois Sec" Ardoin has passed away at the age of 91. 
I was very fortunate to have seen Mr. Bois Sec (a nickname which means "dry wood," which stuck to him as a young man due to his penchant to being the first guy on the farm to head to the farmhouse when it started to rain) play on a number of occasions, with his longtime musical partner the late Canray Fontenot (who had the brightest smile in the world), alone or with Balfa Toujours. (Here's a photo of him performing with Balfa Toujours 5 years ago, and here are a bunch more.) Merci bien, Monsieur Bois Sec, pour toute la bonne musique. Fats is back!! Yay, Mr. Fats!
Well, some can go fuck themselves, and should be asked if they would so easily declare the same for their own neighborhoods should they become similarlly devastated. Keith Spera in the T-P points out one detail that the AP story left out:
So what, though? I would have cherished those 30 minutes. I saw Mr. Fats at Jazzfest several years ago, and he was fantastic. [ Link to today's entries ]
KCSN Pledge Drive! In case you hadn't noticed, it's been going on since last Friday, and we need to raise us some money! I'll be fundraising during my "Down Home" shift tonight, plus playing more great tunes from Jazzfest, more great New Orleans new releases and throwing a few other things into the gumbo as well. You can call during my shift tomorrow, 1-800-795-5276 (that's 1-800-795-KCSN), or pledge online at kcsn.org. I've got a nice little pack of CDs to offer as a thank-you gift for your pledge as well; a pledge of $120 gets you all five (or you can pick one or more for lesser amounts). Here's what we've got:
Public radio, especially internet radio, needs your help now more than ever. If you've ever listened to "Down Home" or any of the other programs on KCSN, it's time to do your part. We give you the best music on public radio for free; all we ask is that you help us keep doing it. Pledge today! And tell 'em your favorite show is "Down Home"! One Restaurant and Lounge. On every trip back home to New Orleans I want to try at least one new (to me) place, and I had been reading about One for a while now. Open at the Riverbend for a little over two years now, it's been a big hit both in the neighborhood and beyond, packing in folks from inside and outside the neighborhood, and getting a "Best New Restaurant" nod from both New Orleans Magazine and the Gambit in '05. That, plus co-owner/executive chef Scott Snodgrass was the former chef at Clancy's, one of my favorite restaurants ... good enough for me. One is in a former residence on Hampson Street, just a few buildings behind the newly-reopened Camellia Grill and walking distance from where we've been staying in town. Its atmosphere is neighborhood but upscale -- it's definitely a destination restaurant, but casual and friendly and a really great place to walk to from anywhere in the Riverbend area. Well-stocked bar and talented bartender to boot; we asked for Harold Lloyd Cocktails, as they call them at Lucques in West Hollywood but probably nowhere else, and they're easy enough to ask for. A Hendrick's sweet martini, about 5:1, garnished with a cucumber slice. Our server offered that chef had come up with a cocktail for a regular that involved a huge rosette of thinly sliced cucumber in the bottom of the glass, and would we like to try that instead of a slice? Sure! You get a great perfume of cucumber as you're sipping, and I think we'll try that at home soon. Now, on to the business at hand. 
Being the sweetbreads fanatic that I am, I started out with what was perhaps the most unusual sweetbreads preparation I'd ever seen: Sautéed Sweetbreads on Collard Greens with a Buttermilk Biscuit. This is far more of a "down home" treatment for those luscious little glands than I'd ever seen before; I do love this ingredient, but it sometimes lends itself to haughtier preparations. This could've been a smoked ham hock with greens and a biscuit (and I'd have loved it), but that extra level of creaminess and intensity took this dish to another level. (Hmm, I wonder if anyone's cold-smoked sweetbreads before sautéing them?) Taking a brief detour for others' dishes ... here's what Robin had to start: 
This looked tempting, but I was too tempted by the sweetbreads and I thought I'd be having plenty of oysters elsewhere. Char-Grilled Oysters with Roquefort Cheese and Red Wine Vinaigrette, a bit of a variation on the more Italian-seasoned charbroiled oysters you see around the city (and especially at Drago's in Metairie), but with a French twist here. I didn't get a bite, but they sure smelled wonderful. 
This was Wes' entrée: Fried Soft Shell Crab & Escargots on Herbed Risotto with a Bacon-Leek Meunière Sauce. Wow! This was just ... nuts. Crazy good! Wes tends to fixate on soft shell crabs and duck while we're in New Orleans, and as soon as I saw this on the menu I knew he'd get it. Soft shell crab with snails, who'd'a thunk it? I'd never seen this combination before, and it worked really well -- it also shows a chef who's not afraid to take some chances. And that sauce ... omigawd, I could smell it from all the way in the kitchen; I could tell as soon as they sauced his plate! Now, back to me me me ... 
"This is why I came!" shouted Harrison Ford in the film of Paul Theroux's Mosquito Coast, and while I wasn't making ice in the jungle, I sure as hell was eatin' me some pig. As soon as I read about this dish I knew I wanted it. Cochon de Lait and Fava Beans on Stone-Ground Grits with Pork Cracklins and Sweet & Sour Red Cabbage is Chef Scott's signature dish, and when someone's signature dish is pig I want it. It did not disappoint. In fact, as I recall, it made my eyes roll back in my head for a bit. This was the best cochon de lait I'd had in the city, better even than what's served at Jazzfest (which is really, really good). Almost butter tender, intensely porky, nicely smoky and full of juice ... I was a happy boy. I understand that One uses whole suckling pigs for this dish, instead of smaller cuts of older pork, and it makes all the difference. The large slice of cracklin provided a porky and crispy counterpoint to the meltingly tender pork, the grits rooted it even more firmly in the South and gave you a little starch with your protein, and the crisp acidity of the cabbage gave a bit of balance to the creamy richness of the other ingredients without asserting itself too much (it's mostly a garnish). Yep. This is why I came. This is why you should go too. (Well, and the other stuff ain't chopped liver.)  
Desserts were very conventional, as they can be at a number of local restaurants. The Louisiana Strawberry Shortcake with Caramel Sauce was superb, though ... due in no small part to the fact that Pontchatoula strawberries are some of the best anywhere. There was also a Swiss Flourless Chocolate Cake and a Vanilla Crème Brûlée that were fine but nothing to write home about ... and I have to say that unless something really interesting is done with crème brûlée I'm not terribly interested in ordering it anymore. But you don't come here for the dessert, you come here for everything before it. As one local reviewer said, "A strong cup of coffee would make an excellent dessert here," and I agree. Next time we go, though, I want to make sure we get the number of people in the reservation right ahead of time, so we don't get stuck at tall bar tables in the bar area (not the world's best seating; I definitely want a table at our next visit), and I'll have to struggle over whether I'm going to try something else or get that magnificent pig again. [ Link to today's entries ]
Our coast to fix -- or lose. Read this article by John Barry, then send it to everyone you know, then send it to every idiot Congressman and Senator you know of who's blocking or stalling on legislation to protect the Louisiana coastline.
Can you get that through your thick skull, Senator Coburn, and all your ilk? John Boutté's music is therapy for listeners and singer. Good article in the Baton Rouge Morning Advocate about the best singer in New Orleans, and how his music, wonderful before and even more powerful since the flood, is healing and cathartic to himself as well as his audience.
Amen, bruh. [ Link to today's entries ]
Jazzfest '07, Day 1. It was good to be back at the Fair Grounds. A perfect sunny day, the entire Fat Pack converging (as well as my sister), and as is my tradition (which I missed last year), I made a beeline for the first thing I eat at Fest -- Creole's Stuffed Bread: 
Surely one of the most underrated foods at Jazzfest -- it's rarely if ever mentioned in the best-of coverage of the food in the local media -- yet Miz Merlene sells enough of them every Fest such that it's pretty much the business highlight of her year. Little baked buns filled with a savory, spicy mixture of meat, sausage, cheese and peppers. I could eat one of these every day for the rest of my life. We accompanied that with one of the handful of dishes at Jazzfest that are actually good for you. 
Jama jama (or "njamma njamma" as I've sometimes seen it spelled) is an African dish of seasoned sautéed spinach topped with an incendiary hot sauce that some would call optional but I would call essential. All washed down with a cool strawberry lemonade, a Fest favorite. We were keen to see some music and to save a lil' bit of room for dinner that night (remember, we kept repeating the Jazzfest mantra, it's a marathon, not a sprint), so we waited until after we saw four musical acts before eating again. Our next stop was when we were on our way to Food Area I with a definite goal in mind, but passed another booth that had something new. I was so astonished by it, and so amazed by it, and so revelled in eating it IMMEDIATELY that there was no chance whatsoever for a picture. Fortunately, I had another one the next day (and the day after that), with camera ready, so I'll tell you about it when I cover Day 2. Where we were headed was for one of my favorite things to eat in he world -- Creole hot sausage. There are spicy sausages available around the world, but not only is this one of the best (well, THE best for my money) it's also incredible comfort food. I grew up with this stuff. The famous Vaucresson family has been making and serving hot sausage to Jazzfesters since 1970 (and to the Seventh Ward and New Orleans in general since 1899), and despite the theft of their custom-made workhorse grill they were still at it on the Fair Grounds as always. I had to support them and get me some good sausage, so, after a brief pause for the afore-not-mentioned food item (let's just say that it was a case of "Life is short; eat dessert first"), I made a beeline for a Vaucresson's Hot Sausage Po-Boy. 
I generally prefer hot sausage in patties rather than in links, bt I make an exception for Vaucresson's, 'cause it's just so damn good. I considered getting a crawfish sausage po-boy too, but thought that might be a bit much. It's only first day, podna ... there's plenty o' time. We split up after a while, as couples or groups inevitably do at Fest, 'cause I wanted to try to catch some of Van Morrison but Wes wasn't interested. On the way there I thought I'd grab one last thing for the day, before our big dinner. Soup or bisque would be perfect, I thought ... not a filling gumbo but something a bit lighter. 
Oysters Rockefeller Bisque was just the thing -- four or five plump oysters, perfectly cooked, a hint of anise and Herbsaint, butter, spinach, tarragon ... oh my. Where else on the planet can you be dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and sandals, walking to hear Van the Man (or any musical performer for that matter), holding a styrofoam cup and plastic spoon via which you dine on a five-star restaurant-quality dish? Only in New Orleans, baby. Lest I make Jazzfest sound to the unititiated as if it's only a food festival (which for some people it is; our friend Sarah opined that she'd go even if there were no bands playing), we did see plenty of great music this year, and Day 1 was no exception. I'll keep the descriptions brief, and you can seek out more about these musicians via the links. 
 
The Pine Leaf Boys kicked off our musical Jazzfest, which ended up being very Cajun music-heavy for me this year ... so what a better way to start? This young, bi-racial Cajun/Creole band with touches of zydeco are the hottest thing in Cajun music right now, incredibly dynamic and creative and innovative yet traditional, reverent yet tons of fun. Their second album, Blues de Musicien on Arhoolie, is even more brilliant than their first. Go get it. (First row: Cedric Watson, fiddle; Wilson Savoy; accordion. Second row: Cedric; Drew Simon, drums; Wilson; Jon Bertrand, guitar.) 
 
We headed to the Gentilly Stage next, excited to see legendary Cajun musician Zachary Richard, a favorite of mine for many years and his first Jazzfest performrance since 1999. He was also bringing French acoustic musician Francis Cabrel with him for performances here and later on at Lafayette's Festival Internationale de Louisiane (maddeningly overlapping with Jazzfest). Conveniently, Eddie Bo was playing at that stage first, so we'd get to see his set too. Except ... horrendous technical problems which seemed to plague the Gentilly Stage for the entire Fest got them all off to a badly late start. Eddie's set was cut down to a bit less than 30 minutes, then after a promise of a quick turnaround ("We'll be back with more music in six minutes, y'all!") it took nearly an hour for Zachary to start, his set actually starting 50 minutes late. Consequently his set, including a bit of solo performing by Francis, lasted barely 40 minutes. Musically brilliant and very much worth the wait, but still very disappointing. It had been a long, long time since I'd seen problems this bad. (First row: Eddie Bo, Zachary Richard. Second row: Francis Cabrel and Zachary Richard.) This was also the year that I resolved that my camera is completely unsuited for long-distance shooting, bright sunlight shooting and in fact any kind of shooting in which I cannot look through the lens or focus the camera myself. The Canon PowerShot G6 can be a terrific camera, but as a longtime 35mm still photographer who's only recently made the leap to digital, I cannot stand not having a single lens reflex camera. The positionable external screen can be great for composing, but it's nearly impossible to see in bright light, and I'm sick to death of slow, cronking autofocus screwing me out of what otherwise might have been great shots. The camera also has only a 4x optical zoom, and as you can see from most of these pictures, when they're taken with the digital zoom engaged they look like absolute crap. I'm done. Time to start saving my pennies for a Digital Rebel EOS. 
 
Off to Congo Square for two great bands in a row. Sousaphonist Kirk Joseph, formerly yet still occasionally of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and currently heading his own ensemble, Kirk Joseph's Backyard Groove, is the master of "sousafunk," and he tore it up with the Groove and guest vocalists including ex-Galactic singer Theryl "Houseman" DeClouet. Following that was another great performance by Trombone Shorty and his band Orleans Avenue -- these kids just keep getting better and better, and Troy Andrews has been an amazing musician since he was a little kid. He's still finding his chops as a big-stage entertainer (a trip into the audience resulted in a fall from the stage in which he might've broken his neck, but instead brushed off his white suite, adjusted his glasses and kept going ... that was cool), but he's also still young. Another few years and he'll completely rule, with his stage presence as well as his adventurous music that takes in everything from century-old traditional jazz to recent funk and hip-hop. I'm also getting to be a big fan of his tenor player James Martin, who was absolutely smoking during this set (and who is easy on the eyes to boot). (First row: Kirk Joseph, Houseman; Troy "Trombone Shorty" Andrews. Second row: "Freaky Pete" Murano, guitar; Troy; Joey Peebles, drums; James Martin, tenor sax. Troy and James.)  
 
I wandered toward the Acura Stage with my Oysters Rockefeller Bisque, listening to Van Morrison on the way and as I approached the stage ... or rather, got as close as I could to the stage area, which was not much. It was one of the most jam-packed acts I'd ever seen at that stage, with the crowd spilling so far out onto the sidewalk that the stage area was almost completely impassable. There were two rows of people trying to squeeze through, one going forward and one going back, and there was barely even room for one. I got to listen to about two songs while I fought my way past it, then said feck it. I headed back to join Wes at the Fais Do-Do stage for Bonerama, and fortunately got to see almost all their set. These guys are fantastic, a four-trombone frontal assault of brass funk, rock and jazz, backed by Matt Perrine's sousaphone and fronted by Mark Mullins' vocals and electric trombone (for several songs he had his trombone miked and fed through a fuzz/wah-wah pedal like an electric guitar; it was freaky). Definitely get their new album Bringing it Home, recorded live at Tipitina's, which features several originals from various band members, two Beatles songs, Thelonious Monk, George Porter and a guest appearance by Galactic drummer Stanton Moore. After the boys were finished we relaxed a bit and took in the stage's closing act, whom I'd never seen live before. The Lafayette Rhythm Devils were a lot less crowded than Van Morrison, and brought today's Cajun music full circle. They were excellent -- Kristi Guillory was a child prodigy on the accordion, now all grown up, and Chris Segura's also the fiddle player of the wonderful young Cajun band Feufollet. Nice way to finish up the Fest ... although I did really want to see Van Morrison, I just won't fight crowds like that anymore. I'd rather stay somewhere else and hear someone local. [ Link to today's entries ]
We interrupt this regularly scheduled program of New Orleans food porn for some Los Angeles food porn. Tom and Greg invited us to come out to Wat Thai, the Thai Buddhist temple in North Hollywood, for lunch. Every weekend they set up food stands were you can get amazing Thai food for very little money (tokens are sold to be exchanged for food and drink, and proceeds from token sales benefit the temple). It had been ages since I'd been to Wat Thai, so we jumped at the chance. 
I started with moo ping (barbecued pork) and Thai sausage. I love moo ping (ping me, baby), and this Thai sausage is very different from the Chinese sausage you tend to get in Thai restaurants (which I love too) -- fat and juicy and well-seasoned without being spicy, and a tad less sweet than Chinese sausage. Tom and Greg each had chicken noodle soup, the Thai name of which I forgot. Tangy chicken broth spiked with lime and chile, noodles, fish balls and scallions. Fortunately Greg didn't finish his and I got to lap up the rest. 
Wes and I split one of our favorite dishes, som tum, shredded green (unripe) papayas with long beans, tomatoes, peanuts, chile and dried shrimp (bah, no blue crab this time!), in a dressing of lime juice, chiles and fish sauce. Then, curry puffs ... a little fried pastry not unlike a samosa -- kind of the Thai and Malay version thereof -- but not vegetarian, as they usually have chicken in them as well as savory, slightly spicy potatoes. 
I love Thai desserts, especially those based on coconut, and we had two. We started with Khao Neow Ma-Muang, sticky rice with mango, perhaps the most well-known Thai dessert. This version also topped the sweet glutinous rice with a slightly salty coconut cream (hey, salty desserts are all the rage now, but Thai people have been at it for ages), a slice of coconut custard and some crunchy toasted mung beans. Then Wes and I noticed the coconut custards cart ... yay! We used to see custards like this for sale outside Sanamluang in Hollywood, but that cart has been gone for ages. These custards were a little different -- smaller, crispier on the outside and a touch less sweet, with the addition of scallion tops inside. 
These were fantastic. I liked them much better than the ones we used to get in Sanamluang's parking lot, plus they're prettier on the inside: 
All this for about six bucks. Not bad. Of course, this was only a prelude to the culinary delights that lay in store for us, after an email alerted us to what was to be had in this city on Saturday. We'd been looking forward to it all week, and it made coming home from New Orleans a little bit less bad ... Bacon Caramel Ice Cream. Yes, you heard me. We've been fans of Scoops Ice Cream for a while now. They've been open for about 2 years now, just north of Melrose and just east of the 101 Freeway. It's a tiny little ice cream shop run by a mad genius of ice cream named Tai Kim, and his combinations of flavors are legendary. Also, with a few exceptions, once he makes a particular flavor he never makes it again. We'd heard about what one of his special flavors would be this past Saturday and we, the Fat Pack, United in Pork (Fac meum involutum in lardo), nearly fainted at the prospect of bacon caramel ice cream. Sure enough, there it was ... 
Right next to the nicotine (!) ice cream, and to the left of the mint, lime and pear sorbet. I didn't notice any actual bacon bits in it -- in fact, it looked like plain ol' vanilla ice cream with a caramel ribbon running through it. Tai was happy to tell me how he did it. "I fried a lot of bacon," he said, "and strained the bacon fat. I used the bacon fat to make both the caramel and the ice cream base." Makes sense ... to make a caramel sauce you melt and cook sugar, then add cream -- just enrich the cream with bacon fat for flavor. Same goes for the custard base -- it's eggs, cream and milk, and you can add the bacon fat to taste while it's still liquid. I got a double scoop for the princely sum of two dollars. 
Oh. My God. Though some may recoil in horror at the prospect of something like this, I can assure you that this was one of the best things I've ever had in my mouth. Every flavor was in perfect balance -- the cream, the touch of vanilla, the sweetness, the porkiness, the smokiness, the caramel ... Tai Kim deserves a Nobel Prize. If they have one for cookery, I'm voting for him. I went back for more, and since "refill" double scoops are only a dollar (!), here are the other flavors I tried: Guinness Tiramisu (the flavor was primarily Guinness stout, with a touch of espresso and, somehow, a background flavor of ladyfingers), Juniper Berry and Tonic Water Sorbet (tasted like a non-alcoholic gin and tonic), Black Tea and Prunes (amazing), Raspberry Basil, Pistachio and Orange Blossom Water and Mint, Lime and Pear Sorbet (okay, I made a bit of a pig of myself). Ones that I had little tasting spoons of were Coffee & Irish Cream, Vanilla & Whiskey (he used Jim Beam Bourbom), Chocolate & Cognac, Lime & Rosewater, Strawberry & Balsamic Vinegar, Saffron & Date (which reminded me of Mashti Malone's; they should totally steal Tai's idea of adding dates, although I don't know how authentically Persian that would be, but you'd think it would be) and ... Nicotine. The only one that wasn't successful (indeed, the only one that wasn't insanely good) was the nicotine ice cream. I applaud his daring, risk-taking and creativity, but this one was just ... weird. It wasn't bad, it was just weird. "I used nicotine gum," he said. "After you let the initial taste of the gum's flavoring fade, you get a definite taste of nicotine afterward." Presumably it's also addictive, I said. "Well, how much of this ice cream are you going to eat?!" True. Not much, really. I bet he'd have much more success with a tobacco ice cream -- Chef Thomas Keller made a tobacco-infused coffee custard for him, to indulge his love of coffee and cigarettes, and it was supposed to be very good. Maybe Tai can head in that direction for the nicotine next time. He also does theme weekends -- Saturdays are the days he does his most adventuresome flavors. We missed the ones he did with cheeses while we were away at Fest (like gorgonzola and pear ice cream ... oh my God). Next weekend he's doing wines. Woo, can't wait! [ Link to today's entries ]
Cocktail of the day. We both made drinks last night (it's been one heck of a week), and I started the evening with my interpretation of a drink that appears on the cocktail menu at Commander's Palace in New Orleans. The two ingredients were listed (or the main two at least), and I made an educated guess as to the proportions. I also spiked it with a little bit of the local bitters for some extra complexity and mystery. The drink is named for one of the co-proprietors of Commander's, the genial and charming Lally Brennan. This might not be exactly what you'll get at Commander's (I had Old Fashioneds and Sazeracs there last week, not this one unfortunately, and you'll hear about our breathtaking meal there soon enough), but we sure enjoyed these last night. The "secret ingredient" in this one is a Spanish liqueur I'm glad to see popping up in more drinks -- Licor 43, or Cuarenta Y Tres. It's supposedly a centuries-old recipe, has 43 essential ingredients including fruits and herbs, but its primary flavor profile is citrus-vanilla. Works great with tequila too, unsurprisingly.
Hey, incidentally ... if any of y'all dine at Commander's anytime soon, ask the bartender if I was at least close. After dinner Wes made Rusty Nails (big ones, using 12 year old Dalwhinnie whisky, no less) and we continued to slog through our 2-week TiVo accumulation -- gotta get caught up on "Lost" and "The Sopranos"! [ Link to today's entries ]
Photo of the day. Seen on Canal Blvd. in New Orleans, near the cemeteries, during the second line for Jessie Hill on April 26, 2007. 
Pretty much sums up just about everyone's feelings these days. Second line for Jessie Hill. On Thursday, April 26, a memorial second line for the great New Orleans R&B musician Jessie Hill ("Ooh Poo Pah Doo") was held, starting at the Banks St. Bar & Grill, heading up Banks and across to Canal and then the cemetery where he's buried. Jessie passed 10 years ago, but his grave only recently got its headstone, and that day was declared to be Jessie Hill Day by the city. Here's a sampling of photographs (full set here). 
The second line was led by Jessie's grandson James Andrews... 
and, riding ahead of the second line in a car, Mac "Dr. John" Rebennack and Dorothy Hill, Jessie's widow. 
The second line finally arrived at Holt Cemetery, near the cemeteries at Canal but tucked out of view; most people aren't even aware it's there. It's almost but not quite a potter's field, but it's where poor folks who can't afford "standard" New Orleans above-ground burial are buried, one of the few below-ground cemeteries in the city. 
"This is where you end up," said James, "when they steal all your royalties." 
Jessie's recently-installed headstone, presented by James Andrews and the Jessie Hill Foundation. 
Please support organizations that provide financial assistance for New Orleans musicians: The New Orleans Musicians Relief Fund, The Tipitina's Foundation, New Orleans Musicians Hurricane Relief Fund, The New Orleans Musicians Clinic (most local musicians have no health insurance), The Backbeat Foundation (set up by the Backstreet Cultural Museum in the Tremé), The Jazz Musician Emergency Fund (from the Jazz Foundation) and more. [ Link to today's entries ]
Home again, home again, jiggity jig. Home from home. I'm glad to be home, and I miss home. It's the classic dilemma of the expatriate ... I've gotta figure out a way to have a home back home too. Unfortunately right now that probably means suddenly becoming independently wealthy, which is unlikely. But I digress. As we were getting out of the SuperShuttle in front of the house yesterday evening, one of our neighbors drove by and greeted us. "Did you go somewhere cool and comfortable?" she asked. "We just spent two weeks in New Orleans," I replied, "So, in a word ... no. But we had a great time! "Well," she said, "Welcome back to bone-dry air, record-breaking temperatures and fires." Yeah, no kidding. We saw thet huge plumes of smoke as soon as we got on the 105, and as we were heading up the 2 to our exit we could actually see the flames on the hills. This is the closest a wildfire has gotten to our home since we've been living in northwest Los Angeles, and it gave me the willies. They actually evacuated part of Los Feliz, which isn't far from where we live. Last night our eyes burned from the smoke and particles in the air, and I woke up with cracking-like-the-desert-floor nasal passages a sore throat from the dry, irritant-laden air. (I have never gotten used to the lack of humidity in Los Angeles, in all the years I've lived here.) This morning my car was covered with ash. But we're home, envious of our friends who have a house in New Orleans and actually had the beginnings of the hypothetical talk of how we could live part-time in both places (lack of income in New Orleans would be the major stumbling block). If I did return home to New Orleans for any major chunks of the year, though, I'd have to resign myself to either controlling my diet or being a big ol' fat guy. Net weight gain in 13 days -- 9 pounds. Oy. Wanna see why? Let us begin. Cuvée. I guess it's a tradition now, since we've done it two years in a row -- first night back home we drive from the airport to the Riverbend apartment where we've been staying, drop off our stuff, jump into some decent clothes and fly to Restaurant Cuvée so that Chef Bob Iacovone can make us happy. Nettie and Robin, first of the Fat Pack to arrive, joined us this year. Sazeracs went around, a few glasses of wine, and then our attentive and friendly waiters got to business: 
I love the amuse bouche they serve at Cuvée -- some might say, "Aw, I had that last time," while I say, "Yay! Another Peppadew Pepper stuffed with boursin cheese, wrapped in Serrano ham and flash-fried!" You know those little cream cheese-stuffed, breaded "jalapeño poppers" that you can get at just about every chain restaurant in the world and are seemingly all made in the same factory? These are about eleventy million times better than those. 
While I did enjoy having the peppadew again, I wanted to try dishes that were new to me rather than return to others, given that I don't get to eat here as often as I'd like. I love their signature appetizer, the Spiced Shrimp Napoleon, with rémoulade sauce between slies of fried mirliton with a cayenne beurre blanc, but Robin got it this time. 
Wes got the chef's daliy charcuterie preparation. I'll have to ask him tonight what it was, because I don't exactly remember, but my, don't it look good? 
Okay, I lied a little bit ... I did return to an appetizer I'd had before. My excuse is that this particular appetizer, Deux Foie Gras, the chef's two different daily foie gras preparations, changes all the time. So, ooh ... what's it gonna be this time?! It was, in fact, a foie gras crème brûlée with boursin cheese, and a slice of seared Hudson Valley foie gras with wild mushrooms, goat cheese and duck cracklins. He almost always does a crème brûlée, constantly varying it, and it's always amazing. I'm beginning to wonder if New Orleans will be one of the last bastions of foie gras, with absurd bans popping up here and there; if it is, I'll make sure Chef Bob's one of the ones I go to for it. (And if you're itching to click the comments box to call me a monster for eating foie gras, just save it. It's inherently cruel to spike a cow in the head so that we can butcher it for food, too. Sheesh.) 
My entrée made me laugh. This is a good thing. "Chicken and Waffles with Bacon" was the name of this dish, and it's not exactly what you'd get at Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles. This was coq au vin blanc, along with a chicken breast pounded flat with crispy pancetta, and a Belgian waffle split and spread with herbed boursin cheese. This came with a gravy boat filled with rosemary-infused Steen's cane syrup. Oh my GOD ... this was good. Great, in fact. I so rarely order chicken in restaurants, but I think I need to start making exceptions to that. I asked for a spoon to get every drop of that sauce, and the syrup was such a simple touch (heat the syrup and steep some rosemary branches in it) that was amazingly delicious, and an idea I'm stealing immediately. The whole dish was clever, whimsical and just gorgeous. 
And then there was ... The Duck. This was Wes' entrée, and I knew he'd get it as soon as I saw it on the menu. He's quite the duck fancier, and from the bite I got he was swooning over this dish, which was duck three ways -- Steen's cane syrup-cured duck breast, confit of duck leg and seared Hudson Valley foie gras with walnut and blue cheese risotto and pear glace. 
"Would y'all care for some dessert?" That's a silly question! Not only did we get the desserts we ordered but the very kind kitchen staff, hearing from our very kind waiter about our indecision about what to have for dessert, sent out an extra one as lagniappe -- Ricotta Cheesecake with Huckleberry Sauce. 
This one was mine, the Triple-stacked Dark Chocolate "Moonpie" with "Dreamsicle" Ice Cream. One more layer of whimsy to my meal, and lemme tell ya, I'd never had a Moonpie quite like this one (or caught one like this from a Mardi Gras float in Mobile ... then again I've never been to Mobile for Mardi Gras (why should I?), but I digress yet again.) The bright orange-vanilla ice cream was a great accompaniment ... Moonpies and Dreamsicles, mmmm. 
Robin had their signature dessert, which has been on the menu for well over a year now: Candied Macadamia Nut-Crusted Espresso Bombe, which is what I had on my last visit to Cuvée last year. Needless to say, being ourselves, we had the dessert plates orbiting around the table until they were empty. A fine, fine way to kick off this year's Jazzfest visit, yes indeed. Big John speaks for the levees. Levees.org has a new PSA featuring adopted New Orleanian John Goodman that's airing soon, and it's up on YouTube now. Watch it, rate it, and let's see if we can get it bumped up to YouTube's front page. Send it around, and remind everyone that New Orleans was destroyed by bad levees and not bad weather. [ Link to today's entries ]
Levees already failing? Great, just great. This is one of the levees that destroyed my parents' house, their entire part of the city west of the Industrial Canal, plus St. Bernard Parish. 
Can we please for Christ's sake finally fire the goddamn Army Corps of Engineers and just hire the Dutch? [ Link to today's entries ]
:-( Just read in Da Online Papuh that local jazz clarinetist Alvin Batiste passed away in his sleep early this morning; he was supposed to perform and be honored at the Jazz Tent today. Obligatory disgusting food post of the day. Because I should probably make y'all suffer just a little bit before the food porn starts rolling in next week. (Up early, Wes still asleep and still to stiff to walk for coffee ... hey, why not post?) There have been some horrific stories about adulterated food in China, but the latest (and perhaps apocryphal) tale is of fake chicken eggs made from chemicals being sold as real. (Um, ick.) That said, an American living in China who commented on a related post said he smelled a hoax -- eggs in China are apparently cheap, about 40 cents a pound. Could manufactured eggs really be cheaper than that to sell? That said, food poisonings have drastically risen in China over the last few years, and this is one of the scarier quotes from the article: "Businessmen and farmers will do anything for profits even at the expense of public health and interest." [ Link to today's entries ]
Master of the Mint Julep. Two great cocktailian pieces in the New York Times this week, including this one which Lally Brennan showed me at the lovely Tales of the Cocktail event at Café Adelaide Wednesday evening (met several lovely people, including Wayne Curtis, author of and a Bottle of Rum: A History of the New World in Ten Cocktails). New Orleans' own Chris McMillian of the Library Bar at the Ritz Carlton is back behind the stick, working his magic on Mint Juleps:
Ohhhh, yes. I have never actually sampled one of Mr. McMillian's juleps, which I aim to remedy very soon. Cocktail of the day. Of course.
I gotta work on my ice-crushing technique ... "Since the Storm: Between Here and Rebuilding" Nancy Scola continues her three-part series on the current state of New Orleans:
Incicentally, there's an encouraging tidbit in this morning's Times-Picayune: New Orleans' population is up by 14% since July 2006, especially in very hard-hit areas like Gentilly and New Orleans East. The 80-Martini lunch. Oh, what a crap job those New York Times folks have. Sampling 80 Martinis to determine which gin works the best in that classic cocktail has gotta be right down there with digging sewer ditches. (Of course not.) I'm glad the get The Truth out front right away:
Yes, indeed. I particularly loved Libation Goddess Audrey Saunders' comment that this is "a generation lobotomized by vodka." More of The Truth:
This whole "just wave the bottle of vermouth over the glass" thing? Run along, son. Continue with the article, and you will find the results educational and edifying. I was pleased to see my beloved Plymouth Gin coming out on top. [ Link to today's entries ]
WAG THE TALE at the Swizzle Stick Bar! Taking a little break amidst the madness (all good, of course) of Jazzfest for a public service announcement from the Museum of the American Cocktail! 
See y'all there! "Since the Storm: No End to Katrina in New Orleans" Nancy Scola of MyDD.com has been down to NOLA and observed the state of the city and the rebuilding process (or lack thereof) and tuned into it really well. She begins a three-part story here:
I'd correct one thing -- it's not so much "the storm" but "the flood." We survived the storm just fine. We just didn't survive our federal government's feeble promises that we'd be protected from the storm's surge. April Looka! entries have been permanently archived. [ Link to today's entries ]
|
He was told that by people for many years, people who thought his only job was being
a "Match Game" panelist, and who hadn't seen him on their televisions in years after having seen him on TV several
times a day in the past. Sadly it's now true ... Tony Award-winning actor, director of television, opera and
Broadway theatre, sitcom and children's televsion star and (most infamously) "Match Game" regular ("When I die,
it's going to read 'Game Show Fixture Passes Away'") Charles Nelson Reilly has 
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