Let The Good TImes Roll

Last week, Dr. Lifesaver went to India. I didn't pester him with the usual "letmegoletmego" spiel, because last week, I went someplace cooler than India. I was in N'Awlins, cherie.

When I say that New Orleans is cooler than India, I am speaking figuratively. It is HOT in New Orleans, humid, steamy, sultry. But that's part of the distinct, New Orleans package.

In my travels, it seems that Boston could be Atlanta could be Cleveland could be Phoenix, with the same strip malls and McDonalds.

But New Orleans is  not like anyplace else. First,there is the sub-tropical weather  that is perfectly fine with the gecko's and feral cats  who pretty much have run of the city. The homes, all up on slabs, waiting for the next flood, are vibrant with painted colors of fuschia or purple or neon green. And the lawns? Honey, there are no manicured  lawns in New Orleans, just a patch of land with palms trees and elephant ears all running wild.  The natives are too busy worrying about serious stuff, like food, to let little things like lawn maintenance bother them.

Did I mention it was hot there?

The food....OMG....The best oysters I've ever had were found in a dive named Coop's, at the end of the French Quarters. Those oysters were soooooooo good that I dragged my friend Gwen back there several times for them. The last time we were there, I begged to speak to the cook to get the recipe. I tell you, that cook couldn't have been nicer. She came out the the dining area, gave me complete step by step directions in her thick, Creole accent. 

When she left, I turned to Gwen and asked, "What the hell did she say?"

Lucky for  me, Gwen's been in New Orleans long enough to have been able to decipher Creole. When I make these oysters, I will be glad to share the recipe if the oysters turn out to be disappointing. If they are as good as those from Coop's, I swear I will call the receipe a  family secret and take it to my grave.

Plus it was quite humid. Have I said this already? 

The best catfish ever came from this place: The sign reads, "Warm Beer, Lousy Food, Poor Service."Maybe they were just trying to scare away the tourists.

Nowhere else in the world can you find those incredible beignets, which are sort of like funnel cakes on crack. I am soooo glad that I had Chris and Gwen with me when we ordered. Chris knew exactly how to pronounce it, which rhymes with ben-gay. Left to my own devices, I would have ordered a bidet. 

'Course, it wasn't all about food. Gwen and I also spent time in the bayou, a most pristine piece of earth. I don't know how the mosquitos figured out that I was  coming...maybe some skeeter Tweeter.....but every mosquito in the bayou came to welcome me and get just a drop of my exotic Baltimore blood. Didn't see any 'gators, though. A native asked me if I had ever seen a gator, and I replied that I had, once, in Florida. 

"Hmph," he snorted, "Louisiana gators are better than any ol' Florida gator. " 

I don't know what he  meant by "better" but I do know that if I ever get real up close to a gator, I am  not asking for ID. I be too busy running.

It was a free steam bath every single day. Just to give you an idea of the weather, in case I haven't been clear.

Here are some pic's. Please, if you ever get a chance, go to New Orleans, the most original, unique, interesting place in America. Just stay hydrated and you'll be fine. 'Cos its hot there. Just so you know.