A LONG Overdue Halloween Post

New Orleans is not messing around about Halloween. This holiday is not celebrated on one night, but at least two, the Saturday night prior to Halloween and the actual night of Halloween. We didn't want our new city to be ashamed, so of course we went out both nights. 

Both nights we met a bunch of friends on Frenchman Street. We didn't actually go anywhere on Frenchman, we literally just hung out in the street. New Orleans is hilarious to me in this way. This is the second time since we've been down here that we've experienced this phenomenon. The street wasn't closed and cars would occasionally try to drive down it, but there were hundreds and hundreds, if not thousands of people in the street. In the MIDDLE of the street there is drinking, dancing, live music, and general merriment. The police don't bother to try to shut it down, but they also don't seem to direct traffic away from the street that is completely impassable. Like I said, it's fascinating.

Here are some of my favorite costumes from Halloween:

                                                      

                                                     Double mint twins

                                                     Ambiguously gay duo

                                          Muppets, these were incredible handmade costumes

                                          Mad Max crew

                                                     Beetlejuice

                                                  This is not a costume it's just a huge and creepy snake

                                           Ronald McDonald, Grimace and the Hamburglar

                                                     Zombie bride

                                                     White and black swans

                                                             Papa Smurf

                                           The Pink Ladies

                                                     Super awesome robot

                                                     Discoball

                                                     Katy Perry and Russell Brand

Oh, and of course the mister and I:

Kickball, bitches!

Gruel for Dinner taught me an important lesson, everything sounds better and more fun if you put "bitches" at the end. She's so very right, bitches.

Moving right along. It didn't take me long to settle in down here in New Orleans. Five days after we arrived, the house was completely unpacked, the glasses chilled and the new dog park christened. I was looking for something to do and my friend Gregger invited me to join his kickball team. I wrote back and asked if there would be yelling in this kickball league, he promised me there wouldn't be, so I agreed to join.

This is our team - Talons of Fury - at our first game:

We're pretty fancy. 

Some of us take the art of kickball a little more seriously:

Than others:

Our team has lots and lots of fun. We don't take ourselves too seriously and the only yelling we do is at the other teams when we remind them they are taking themselves too seriously. 

But, the real reason I love Kickball is this:

Every week after our game, our team hangs out and dances and drinks beer (or white wine if you are Amanda the blonde haired, blue eyed South African I found in Italy). A friend of ours on an opposing team brings a speaker system that we can plug our ipods or iphones into and play music. Some weeks we dance so far into the night that City Park turns off the lights. Don't worry, this never deters us, we just dance in the dark:

We do actually play a 45 minute game of kickball every week in addition to the dancing and drinking, but let's be honest, it's not really about the kickball.

Going Back in Time

We've had a bit of a time down here this week. Baby Sally got very sick and had to spend a night at the vet. Trauma ensued for all. Since we didn't do anything fun this week on account of that fact that all I did was freak out, I thought I'd back things up a bit and show you some photos of our journey from Vermont to NOLA.


This is the truck I drove to NOLA, it was also towing my car, because charmingly the mister's car was too heavy to tow. Of course, it would have been great if we could have driven the Prius and towed the Exploder, but alas, it was not to be. Instead, I drove this truck towing my car and the mister tried to keep up.

We pulled out of the driveway and got exactly as far as the parking lot at Essex Automotive. For those of you who don't know, that's about 1/10th of a mile from our house. Tim needed to "check" something, you know. While he dicked around I took this sweet picture of Baby Sally who jumped in the driver's seat the second I jumped out.

Oh wait, I took two pictures of her.

We were cruising right along in Troy, NY when Tim called me and said: "You're smokin'". I said: "I know honey, that's why you married me. Is there something I can do for you"? He told me that, in fact, our truck was smoking, doh! I pulled over and we called Penske who said they would have a mechanic out to us quickly. Quickly?!?! By quickly did they mean 3 hours later? Because that's how long it took for this to happen:

While the nice mechanics worked on our truck, the mister posed in his My Little Cupcake shirt with the sunset.

We stayed over in Wilks-Barre, PA and when we woke up it was bright and beautiful out and we walked the girls around the strangely gorgeous grounds of the hotel.

On the second day, we got to the good stuff. By the good stuff, I mean the truck stops with weird things. I don't know about the other ladies using the restroom at this truckstop, but I never got a first thank you, so I'm not sure who they were thanking again.

At the next bathroom I found myself in, I found this charming little duo. I mean, who decided the horny goat weed/treasure chest "health care" dispenser needed this charming print as a companion?

High on the list of things that were sad about leaving Vermont was the fact that it cost $116 to fill up the truck I was driving and I had to do it every 600ish miles. Yikes!!

High on the list of things that were happy about leaving Vermont was the fact that the mister could get the best damn barbecue at every truck stop we found.

When we hit Alabama, we got out of the truck and for the first time, it was H-O-T. Not, just hot, but beastly. I mean hot as hades. Hot like, well, things that are hot. This is what Sally looks like when it's hot:

Somehow, someway, on the third day, we made it to Louisiana.

In all my excitement at being at our new house, I pulled right into our driveway. This here is a photo of the mister trying to take the trailer off the truck by hand because there was no way to back it out of the driveway with it attached. Whoops! Needless to say, I was not super popular the first day in our new home.

And, I don't think the heat helped my cause.

I was able to make nice with the mister by putting some short ribs in his pie hole. I think it helped when he realized I had hired some guys to unload the truck and I would be at Target while the whole thing unfolded.

Here's our new, if temporary, home. Feel free to come on down to the Big Easy and check us out!

3 Martini Lunch

That’s right, I said it,  three martini lunch. On a Thursday. Quit judging me! Or you know, judge me, because at the end of the day, I was drinking three martinis at lunch time on a Thursday. What can I say? New Orleans really brings out the best in me!

My friend Nick and I made a bet, which he lost of course because I only ever bet if I’m really, super duper sure I’m right. Naturally, he lost because he is a sucker, so he had to take me out to lunch. I, of course had done my research about where I would want to  have lunch when I won this bet, so off to Commander's Palace we went.

Naturally, we asked about the .25 martinis immediately. Our host brought us a menu and pointed this out:

Now, I hate to be picky, but I think we can all agree that by definition a martini is, in fact, a cold glass of gin with some (for me VERY little) vermouth in it. What you do with it after that is up to you. Put ice, olives or a twist in it, or dirty it up with some salty olive water. All of those things are acceptable, but please, for the love of all that is holy do NOT try to trick me into thinking that a martini has vodka or any other liquor in it. It does not. Obviously, only one of the "martinis"listed above is actually a martini.

That being said, I'm not even trying to drink well gin. So, I ordered a cosmopolitan after politely pointing out to the server that it was in no way a martini. Nick went for an actual martini. We each decided on the prix fixe menu which entitled us to a choice of several soups and salads and an entree. 

I got the commander's salad:

and griddle seared gulf fish with butter braised potatoes, bruléed shallots, roasted mushrooms, wilted greens and a white truffle beurre blanc, it was fantastic!

Nick had the chicken and oyster gumbo:

and creole couchon de lait - Abita braised pork shoulder and green onion boudin with Tabasco onion rings, corn chow chow, red pepper paint, and smoky pork jus. I tried his and the pork was really tender and delicious and the dish itself had a myriad of flavors:

Of course, we had a second drink with our meals. This time I had a commander's "martini" and Nick stuck with an actual martini:

 Did I mention we were sitting outside and it was 78 degrees and sunny? We were and it was. I love NOLA.
That's the food and drink. However, I failed to mention something else. While we were settling in at our table a woman walked up to our table, showed us her outfit and told us what she was wearing and the designer and then walked away. Nick and I looked at each other and simultaneously said: "What the fuck"?!?! Weird, right? Then, a second woman approached our table. This time, we stopped her before she could escape and asked her what was going on. Turns out, once a month Saks sends models over to Commander's Palace to parade around in fancy designer clothes and tell the diners all about them. Weird. These are two of the models who were showing us the clothing:

Needless to say, we'll avoid this monthly affront to my delicate sensibilities in the future. 

Our First Fun Day

Alright, it wasn't our first fun day, but it's the first one I'm writing about for the blog.

We started out by going to Dante's Kitchen for brunch. The fabulous Gruel for Dinner gave me a gift certificate to Dante's for my birthday and we had some left on it after the fabulous dinner we had there, so off we went. I'm no food critic, but I can tell you the food was as delicious the second time as it was the first.

We started out with these house made buttermilk biscuits that were accompanied by house made butter, house made pear jam and house made plum jam. Are you sensing a theme?

Then, I had the "Pot Likka". The menu's description of the pot likka is as follows: "beef pan drippings with grits and eggs". Now, under normal circumstances I don't eat meat at restaurants because who the hell knows where it comes from. However, Dante's only serves delicious, small farm meats, so I went right ahead. I am not even going to discuss the fact that I ate something called drippings, but I can say this: it was gooooooooooooooooooooooooood!!

The mister had steak and eggs, which was described on the menu thusly (that's right, I said thusly, deal with it): "grilled tenderloin with poached eggs topped with bearnaise sauce and served over hash browns". The mister housed that shiz, so I think he liked it.

With our bellies all full up, we trotted off to the monthly Freret Market. The market has crafts, food and flea market type vendors and of course as everywhere else in New Orleans, great music.

We bought some totally luxe lemongrass soap from this guy:

and I coveted these beautiful skulls, I wanted them all:

We wandered about at the market, shopping, listening to music and cuddling pitbull puppies at the Dogs of the 9th Ward tent.

As we pulled out of our parking spot outside the market we had our very first random run in with friends. Our friend Nick and his son Nico pulled up right next to us and invited us over to hang out and since I can't get enough of that sweet Nico, we accepted. You can see why I'm so in love with him:

After I played with Nico for awhile and Nick and the mister drank a beer, we went home and napped.

After our late afternoon nap and an uneventful dinner at home, I headed out to hear some music. As I am sure you all know, there is no shortage of AMAZING music here. When I want to go out and hear some of that amazing music I like to sit down at my computer and look at calendars on local club websites and then check out the artists' websites to hear clips to decide who I want to go see. On this particular night, I found John Boutte playing at d.b.a. The cover was a whopping $5 and it was one of the best live shows I've ever seen.

The videos aren't great because I took them on my phone in a dark club, but you get the idea. That John Boutte is amazing and I would definitely recommend seeing him if you get the chance, especially if you are in New Orleans visiting me!!!

There are rumors of a trip to Alabama this weekend, so stay tuned for more.