About a Canadian passport photo.
"That's a great picture."
God bless security at MSY.
I had no idea, but I wore peacock feathers all day and can't wait to wear then again. I was afraid I might be overdressed, but that was far from the case. You can go full sequin, satin, drape yourself in furs... The sky's the limit.
And here is a smattering of the finest millinery from Thanksgiving Day at the Fairgrounds for your viewing pleasure.
Closes for the bad oyster months, so I wasn't able to come in the summertime. But now it's wintertime and the living is easy.
I started with the gumbo, and was fascinated by how the seafood itself differed from Brennan's. There, the pieces were plump and tender. Here, they almost dissolved in my mouth. In neither case were they the gummy mess I had too often encountered (and which made me think, much against my better judgment, that I didn't like seafood gumbo). The roux was dark and thick with okra. Two thumbs up.
The oyster load was good. Great once I added some hot sauce. I washed it all down with an Abita Amber and was about to leave when I suddenly had to stop off at the raw bar.
Can you blame me?
Is a little kitchen at the back of Cafe Negril. It is amazing and inexpensive and has a little something for everyone (except perhaps vegans), and yet often falls off my radar, whereas really, I should probably stop in any night I am dancing on Frenchmen.
Walking down Bourbon earlier today (just one block), I had to dodge two men blocking the sidewalk. As I passed, one of them said, "Oh, sorry." Having had some recent conversations on this word, I doubled back to ask, "Are you Canadian?"
Yes. From Leamington. I feel that the "sorry vs. excuse" me debate has been settled.
I used to enjoy reading a local reviewer who did a "X at X - worth it?" series, and one of the "Hell yes" reviews was of the half price drinks and oysters at Manale's.
I am here to confirm. Hell yes. Sorry, no pics. I was too busy slurping oysters.
The bread is lighter than air with a shattering crust. Leidenheimer. Très New Orleans. The butter is soft and sprinkled with a dusting of sea salt. The Bloody is thick with a slight kick and a hint of bitterness.
The seafood filé gumbo is out of this world. Crab, shrimp, andouille, and oysters, thickened with filé. The seafood was perfectly tender, toothsome, melt-in-your-mouth delicious (none of that rubbery texture you sadly too often get). Miles above anything I've ever had.
For my main, I had the crispy fried oyster salad, whuch was lovely and light, but sadly not light enough to leave me room for the Southern pecan cake with rum reduction, butterscotch sauce and candied bacon.