Tattoos & House Guests

We've all heard those creepy stories about people meeting internet people face-to-face and then someone gets murdered/kidnapped/inappropriately groped. But apparently, people you meet on Xbox LIVE are totally legit, because none of the above happened when we finally met our buddies Headless Rage and Zombee Queen (aka Ty & Ashley). They came to town to visit their zombie killing comrades (Dustin and I, or Sitesemt and TheHausewife) and soak up some Nawlins culture. And also sling some ink. Ty, who is a professional artist and tattooist in Florida, worked at an incredibly convenient parlor and over the course of the week several friends and co-workers got some fresh ink, including me. It's my first tattoo and I was happy that a friend of mine was able to do it for me.

But this wasn't just a working holiday. We also got to play tour guide for them, and Ty's mom, and show off our Nola knowledge. Probably out favorite thing to do when people come to town is feed 'em. The food here is unparalleled no matter where you're from, so we like to show it off, and take a little bit of credit. Among the deliciousness we demonstrated was the Oak Street Cafe. We stopped in for lunch one day where we all came away stuffed and happy. I had the fabulous Mediterranean omelet while Dustin had the Grilled Godmother. I can't recall what all everyone else had, but I know what they didn't have: complaints. We took them to Masperos and had highly satisfactory burgers and po-boys. We paid too much for overly sweet daquaris when we went to the French Quarter to show them around, and for the guys to buy skull bracelets at Rev Zombie's. Succulent BBQ was had at VooDoo BBQ and the best turkey burger and rings ever were consumed at GB's Patio Bar & Grill (the only place that let's late-nighters like us bring kiddoes until 11pm). We even had 5am mini tacos at the Avenue Pub once. Honestly, after eating out almost every meal for an entire week, I can't remember all of them. A couple of times I did cook for the crowd. I even made brain shaped meatloaf and jello one night. It was a hit, even if the fruity brains looked so real none of the kids would really eat it.

We also had no shortage of liquid refreshment. The only night we really went out on the town we had our good friend Jon be our guide. He took us to one of my husband's favorite spots (one I'd never been to), The Dungeon. I liked it. From the quiet patio area where we discussed horror and sci-fi literature and film, to the dominatrix mannequins in the cage, to the bathroom hidden by a bookshelf, and in spite of the enormous rat that scuttled by us as we drank our Sex With An Alligator shots, it was a hit. Other than a few drinks to accompany meals and the grand search that took place in order to find Strongbow that ended at Whole Foods (which I found a few days ago, more reasonably priced, at Rouses), most drinks were either gin & tonic or Abita here at the house.

The activity of tourists second only to eating and drinking is picture taking. They were able to do plenty, in the French Quarter and also in the cemeteries, where we searched for good lighting and Marie Laveau (whose grave they found the next day all by themselves). They really are impressive.

I always love having guests and enjoying the city from a tourist's point of view. It keeps the perspective fresh. You do things you don't usually think to do in order to show your friends a good time, and often discover something new that might otherwise have gone unnoticed. I can't wait for them to visit again and we can continue our gastronomical adventures.

A Cheesy Little Date

Last night Dustin and I enlisted the services of our beloved babysitter and took a night off from our nightly routine. After all the OT he's been pulling in, Dustin deserved a break. We were going to try Sushi Brothers, again, but they were so packed I was afraid we'd add a migraine to our hunger pangs. The Melting Pot is right down the street, and there happened to be some free street-side parking.

I'd never been, so I was quite happy Dustin suggested it. They weren't that crowded, though with the deceptively deep dinning area, even if they were 3/4 full, you could still enjoy an intimate dinner for two. We were seated beside the nearly two story glass-walled wine room with a clear view of their nice selection (from which we partook, of course). Our friendly waiter, Rick, explained the menu to us and we chose their current promotion, the Pacific Islands Big Night Out- a four course meal, all but the main course of which is interchangeable, for two at $85. We stuck to the arrangement and started with Feng Shui Cheese Fondue. The mix of Havarti cheese and Sake just didn't work for me. But the green apples and bread to dip in it was good. The following course of lettuce wraps was absolutely delicious. Large leaves of crisp lettuce stuffed with finely shredded vegetables, bean sprouts and toasted almonds served with mandarin sesame sauce that was just beautiful. The main course did not disappoint. After detailed instructions, including not to go pot-to-mouth with the skewers (those things get hot!) we received a platter filled with raw meat (which would have definitely freaked me out any other day), four chunks each of pork, chicken, beef, ahi tuna, two shrimp, four vegetable dumplings and a lobster tail. Each was lightly pre-seasoned, and our chosen preparation, an island inspired blend of citrus and spices called Mojo, was boiling away, ready for our little morsels to take a swim. And the sauces! Not one, or two, or three, but eight sauces, each totally different from the other and absolutely delicious. There was also a bowl full of potatoes, mushrooms and broccoli. Is it any wonder it took us 3 hours to eat supper? But the process was fascinating and romantic (though we stopped short of feeding each other). It was one of the most fun meals I've ever had in a sophisticated setting. But hold on, kiddies, we're not done yet. There was still the dessert course. We had the recommended Yin & Yang fondue: dark chocolate swirled with passion fruit-infused white chocolate in the shape of, what else, a Yin-Yang sign. The plate of dippable treats they brought blew the wonder at the sauces out of the water. A slice of cheesecake, two bites of brownie, two bites of pound cake, Oreo- and graham cracker-crusted marshmallows, rice crispy treats and a bowl of sliced strawberries. And a cherry. Whoa. That stuff was sinfully good. We also had after dinner drinks, Dustin a grasshopper and I a coffee with Amaretto. Oh, and did I mention the fabulous wine Rick suggested, Zin of Zins? Yeah, we had two. Bottles. (Spread over a 3+ hour span, with food, it wasn't so bad.) So, feeling stuffed to the gills, and a bit swimy, we chatted with the friendly waitstaff a while before paying our $162 bill (before tip) and walked to the Avenue so I could try the new Hurricane Saison on the balcony, then went home before we were tempted to stay for another brew, which our full tummies would have firmly protested, I have no doubt.

Because we had so much fun dipping sharp objects topped with meat and vegetables into boiling liquids, Dustin has proclaimed that our monthly date nights will henceforth take place at The Melting Pot. Um, yeah. I had a fabulous time, but I like variety. Not to mention it would seriously drain our date budget, but I'm sure I'll be ready for a return trip in about six weeks.

The Accidental Night Out

With Shelby making the grandparent rounds in Texas, and me pretty much over my blasted cold, Dustin and I took advantage of his only night off in a while and got out of the house. We drove around a bit, as you know we love to do, and went for sushi. Sushi Brother's was closed, so we parked in their parking lot again anyway and went to Hoshun. During happy hour, beer, sake and some wines are two-for-one, so we had some Blue Moon with our Linner (you know, like brunch, except between lunch and dinner). We ordered their yummy miso soup and the rangoons. Theirs are crawfish as well as crab and come perfectly stacked on a little puddle of a lightly spicy orange sauce. They were the best rangoons I've ever had (and I've had a lot!). Then we got our sushi: I had the Uptown roll and the crunchy roll (both delicious but too much for me to finish, and I can put away a lot of sushi) & Dustin got a crawfish roll and two other spicy rolls I didn't pay much attention to. It all came to a little over $40.

Completely stuffed, we drove to the ginormous Borders Bookstore on Magazine. It's seriously huge- have you ever seen a bookstore with an escalator in it? I have! We bought some coffee and purchased several books (and added more to our future reading lists) for our upcoming flights to and from Ireland. I also got an Andy Warhol-style Wizard of Oz bookmark, which I like more and more the more I look at it.

Then, being able to be spontaneous with our temproary freedom, we went to the Avenue. When I was growing up, my old fashioned parents- normally great instillers of abstinence- would dole out the Wild Turkey for what ailed us like it was NyQuil. So in keeping with tradition I ordered a shot of Jameson with an Orange juice back to help rid my system once and for all of whatever bug I caught back in Texas. It seemed to be working so well, I had another.

And that's when things picked up. When I was out of town, Dustin and a friend checked out a bar in the French Quarter called The Dungeon. He said it definitely lived up to it's name, red walls, secret passages and all, so I had to see it. But they, like Sushi Brother's, were closed. So instead we parked a few blocks off Bourbon and went to Jean Lafittes. We drank hurricanes and watched E! and had a great time talking about this and that. This particular night there was a man at the piano in the back and he played beautifully.

Once our Jean Lafitte plastic cups were empty, rinsed and stuffed in my messenger bag, we walked down Bourbon, something we hadn't done in ages. The karaoke was in full swing at Fat Cat's, so we settled in with a beer and watched the show. Once we'd had our fill of bad eighties songs, we went to the Boondock Saint and had a great time visiting with the bartender, Tricia. She's so cute, with her curly blonde hair and cheerful personality. It really balances out the Boondock Saints playing on constant repeat behind the bar.

After we bid Tricia farewell and walked back to the car, we were on our way home, until we drove by Le Bon Temp Rouler on Magazine. We'd never been, so we stopped in, and just happened to run into one of Dustin's coworkers (this one a cop). So we visited with him and a few other friendly drinkers at the bar until it was absolutely time to go home and crash.

I seem to remember some McDonald's in there somewhere between that last bar and bed, but if I don't remember it, the calories don't count, so we'll just leave it at that.

French Wine And Catholic Mojitos

In honor of one of the Paramedic's birthdays, several of Dustin's fellow medics (except him, he had to work) gathered at Bacchanal on Poland, and I was invited to come along. Driving down North Rampart at dusk, I had a wave of..... I don't know exactly what. I drove past the way we used to come into town every time we visited, and I remembered that feeling of excitement and anticipation that used to sweep me once we made the curve past the Police station. Looking at the three story buildings with iron balconies in the fading light, I was glad that I lived in New Orleans.

And after I got through feeling all giddy- and paying entirely too much for gas at the nearest station- I found Bacchanal's. It's a nondescript little place on a corner, but once you go in, you see that it might just be something special. There are wine racks everywhere, as well as a few coolers filled with beer, water and cheeses to accompany your vino. Behind the cash register there's a chalk board with a few selections, and I wish I could remember what I got. I had only one glass, but it was superb. A white wine that was crisp and fruity, but not really sweet. I thought I tasted elderberry, which is a flavor I love and miss very much from when we used to forage the berries out of the wilderness ourselves to turn into jelly when I was a kid. I followed the party out into the patio area. The ground is uneven, the trees and shrubs are exactly where God put them, the tables don't match and the tiki torches and strung lights are set about haphazardly, but it was beautiful. Everyone else had already eaten (I swear, I was only 10 minutes late! People trying to make me look bad...), so I didn't order anything, but they do offer some sandwiches, cheese plates and other light offerings. The ladies room was pretty clean, has a fuul length mirror and the hot water works, so they get a good score on that front. We stayed for a little over an hour, but just about the time the jazz band started playing on the little wooden stage in the corner, the party was ready to move on.

Since I'd missed out on the sandwiches, I decided to fulfill a constant craving I have and went to the Avenue. The guacamole watch board had a smiley face, so we were good to go. I had a Coke and my guacamole and got ready to meet back up with everyone else.

The party had moved to St. Joe's on Magazine. So.... That's where I went. I'd never been, and it was quite a place. I'm not entirely sure that all the crosses hanging from the ceiling are exactly kosher (religious pun not really intended), but I liked the church pews next to the pool table and the cherubs behind the bar. The bathroom walls are also quite unique, with bits of broken tiles and mirrors mosaiced into them. The back covered patio area is amazing. The rafters are filled with red Chinese lanterns, there are candles and Asian religious-type statues above the bar. Absolutely beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the blueberry mojitos. They were the best, hand muddled right there while you watch. We enjoyed sipping our Southern libations and heckled a friend who was trying out her speech for her upcoming volunteerism as a tour guide. With the exception of getting walked in on in the unique yet tiny, no-door-latch-having bathroom, it was a lot of fun.

At almost midnight, when the party began to disperse, a few of us decided to go in search of some late night vittles. Someone said the midnight buffet was about to start at Harrah's, so we made our way thus. But there was apparently some sort of event going on at the casino, which means no parking for us. So we followed the other car to a little restaurant on the corner of Dauphin and Touro called La Peniche. Curtis and I, deciding that the name sounded awfully stuffy, agreed ahead of time that we would certainly not be paying $25 for a crepe. Luckily, this place turned out to be the perfect end to a night out. Low prices and good food are always a happy couple in my book. Everyone got something totally different. One girl got chicken-fried chicken and scrambled eggs, and I got biscuits and white gravy with a small side salad. While the biscuits were a bit hard, it was very good. For five people to eat their fill, and still have food on (a few of) their plates, it came to about $70. With parties of 5 or more, the gratuity is added in automatically (and they don't split checks, so don't ask), but we left our change for him anyway. If you ever find yourself hankering for an omelet and a po-boy at 2 am, and are brave enough to leave the Quarter (did I mention I saw two hookers make the block as I ate my biscuits?), then by all means give this place a try!

One of the many perks of having a friend share a wall is that when you got out together, along with her boyfriend usually being the designated driver, you don't have to feel like you're imposing when it's time to go home. You simply walk up your side of the steps and go inside.

Down Like Cooter Brown

With the exception of having three fried oysters on my seafood plate when we went to Joey K's not long ago, until Sunday, I had yet to go out and have an oyster since moving to the Crescent City. A raw one I mean. Am I or am I not the only one here who thinks that's an absolute travesty? Show of hands.

So, when an awesome couple from Dustin's work asked us if we wanted to go bite some bivalves together, the answer was a resounding Yes! We had planned on going to a fancier oyster bar, but they were closed. Dustin and I were already en route, and when we found out we'd be meeting them at Cooter Brown's, I felt a bit overdressed. I mean, heels at a place named after the drunk from the Dukes of Hazard didn't exactly have me stoked (not as used to wearing them as much as I once was, I gotta pick my nights, ya know?). But the place turned out to be awesome. Having been a hang out and drunk-food haven for the college crowd for 20 years has definetly seasoned it well. And it's pretty dark in there, good for when you've been out throwing 'em back all night and your lipstick is smudged on your racoon-like face. They have a very impressive beer list, so if you choose to cut out the middle man and do your drinking and have your fourth meal all in the same place, you're good to go. We had a great time drinking Abita Mardis Gras (I am seriously going to cry when they stop making it after the season is over) and slurping down some ice cold shuckers. Don't order 4 dozen oysters if you're in a hurry, though, because it's not a fast order. But we didn't care, and enjoyed the atmosphere, the company, and the crazy Jets fan whom I thought was going to have a stroke (everything was great, except for the awesomely bad joke the guys played on me; I'm not telling, but you guys are going to h-e-double hockey sticks for real, just so you know! ;) ). I will offer a warning though for future patrons: Their horseradish is seriously not kidding and it will assault your sinuses like a fireball of sterno and fury. No matter how little we mixed with our ketchup, we couldn't get the ratio right, so finally decided to take teeny little pinches with our mini forks to add to the mouthfulls. Have a head cold? Go to Cooter's. For two pitchers of Mardis Gras, 2 Irish Car Bombs for the boys and 48 raw oysters, it came to $75. Having waited this long for oysters, I didn't even care.

After we left there, we weren't ready to throw in the towel just yet. So we went down to the Avenue. It was a quiet night, a bit rare from my experience, so in addition to the huge gin and tonics Al hooked us up with, we tasted a few of the local beers we hadn't yet tried. The Sweet Potato ale wasn't bad, but I've seen people order it and have to wait a while as the bartender has to wait for the head to go down to resume pulling. I'm personally not sure if it's worth all the effort. The Southern Pecan, however, was delicious. I don't like southern/buttered pecan flavored anything, but that stuff was good. We also tried something strawberry flavored (Dustin loved it, but if I want that much strawberry taste, I'll get a smoothie) and something with a white horse on it that started with a C. Hey.... After that much tasting, you might not remember either. I can't remember the tab, either, but I do remember it wasn't much for the drinks, the tastes, and the pint we each ordered afterwards.

After all that, I kinda wanted to go back to Cooter Brown's and have some cheese fries....

Bustin' Out at the House of Blues

I can't tell you how anticipated Friday night was. For over a month, I'd had tickets to Bustout Burlesque at the House of Blues- an anniversary present- hiding under the laundry detergent in the wash room, counting down the days to the 18th. After f-i-n-a-l-l-y finding a wonderful sitter for Shelby (I called some churches after the agencies were all booked up and one recommended a woman that they have teaching there), we headed out for a pre-event drink at, where else, the Avenue, our favorite little bar. I handed Dustin the tickets in a sweet little anny card across the smokey table and watched his eyes light up. Bingo.

After a gin and tonic on St. Charles, we proceeded down to the French Quarter an hour early to find some parking, no small feat on a Friday night. Luckily, we were able to find a spot in a lot about 3 blocks away. I don't often have an occasion to wear heels these days, so the less walking, the better. We waited in the serpentine line for about 10 minutes before I got a call from Rick, the manager of the burlesque troupe. I'd been driving him nuts for the last month to get reserved seating (in actuality, I only called a few times, but that was a lot for me, as I hate to impose), it being a special occasion and all. He actually came out and got us, leading us to the front of the line and through the doors. Can I just say how bad ass it felt to do that? I promise I didn't give anyone any snotty looks. Then he took us to the seating area and let us choose one of the limited tables. We decided on a bar top behind the floor seating, which turned out to be the perfect perch to enjoy the show. We thanked the most awesome manager in the world, ordered drinks and settled in to see the long-awaited performance.

It really was great. I loved the troupe's band, the Bustout Burlesque Jazz Band. The Emcee, Dante, was a funny little guy in a top hat and vintage pastel tailed coat. I'm quite glad we decided against the table right in front of the stage, as he called the girl sitting there up to the stage to be his straight man (or woman, as it were). The first performer was Kitty Twist, a Southern Belle who decided to show off her little southern tush. Very sweet. Then was the fabulous Praline DuPree. She was hands down our favorite. Her facial expressions were the best (though with a body like that, I doubt the male members of the audience noticed). She was dressed as a girl on a jungle safari. Who forgot to wear pants. Her work with the whip would have certainly had Dr. Jones intrigued. Then the lovely Athena sang Santa Baby, followed by more schtick from Dante. There was even a special appearance by Wild Cherry, a "real live" dancer from back in the day. I was really excited to see her up there, as I've seen her included in documentaries on TV and read about her on the Internet. And, as it turns out, Dustin's grandparents saw here back in her prime on Bourbon Street. It was a nice surprise. But don't worry, she stayed fully clothed the whole time, even though she showed she's still got the attitude. There was a special performance by guest star Michelle L'Amour, and she was wonderful. Her milky white skin and pageboy-cut dark hair made for a wonderful contrast. She did a routine with the big feathered fans (my favorite burlesque prop of all time) in a nude, sequined pastie-and-panty combination and performed beautifully. I believe the next girl was Roxie LaRouge, but to be honest, I wasn't paying attention to her name. Let's just say, she was much more top heavy than the other girls. A bit thicker, too, but certainly hot. It was really awesome to see a slightly meatier girl get up there and shake her pasties. More singing from Athena, then the last act, Foxy Flambeaux. Dressed as the original Barbie, she definitely looked the part. Though she seemed a bit less enthused to be up there (maybe due to already having preformed earlier in the evening) hers was still a lovely act. The finale was a chorus line-type production by all the ladies dressed in what Mrs. Clause probably wore on her wedding night. Lots of fun, I must say.

All in all, it was a great show. I highly recommend going if you have a taste for jazzy big band music and beautiful women taking off their clothes (except the pasties, of course!).

After the show, I scored an autographed photo of Cherry and we headed to Bourbon street. It's nice to walk down the street looking nice every once in a while. We grabbed a beer from Huge Ass Beers, classy drinks for our classy night, then headed home. Don't worry, there were no laws broken, although we did consider trying to trick the lot gate into letting us out for free. Which we didn't do. Because it would be wrong. And stupid.

It was our first burlesque show (but certainly not the last), the first night we'd gotten to really go out on the town and enjoy ourselves in forever, and the very first time we've ever hired a sitter. We've never had a better anniversary date. I can't wait to see what we come up with next year.