Heart Disease and Heart’s Desire: The Future’s in the cards

It is not everyone who can stomach fried oysters at breakfast but, really, this morning at 8 was my only opportunity to sample this dish, for which New Orleans is famous. We went to Stanley where I had fried oysters with eggs benedict, as did Tom. Mike had his eggs with boudin—not our first white pudding of an intensive weekend’s eating.  Between shrimp etouffe and redfish at Galatoires, a five course meal to die for at Domenica, and other crawfish, butterbean and banana-flavored delights at Eat and Cochon Butcher, we did not go hungry. I ate many parts and pounds of pig during a two day grease-fest that included pork-fat-fried beignets. Sadly though a long line at Felix’s meant we had to forego our usual fried oyster platter. Hence the breakfast on the way to the airport today.

I said NO to all Sazeracs and was not even tempted by the Dark and Stormy mixed at Butcher Cochon or the Corpse Reviver #2s that everyone raved about at Bar Tonique.  This gave me extra hours in each day (there is only so much unadulterated ginger beer a person can drink) and so I had a chance to go to Armstrong Park (named for Louis) and see the Hot 8 and Soul Rebel brass bands. I liked Hot 8 best: “Hey big girl back it up back it up. Back it up like a UHaul truck” I backed it up with the best of them.

Hot 8 has around 12 members. The name comes from a time when black men were permitted by law to congregate only in groups of seven or less.  This band makes sure to have at least eight members, just to show they can.

I had my cards and palm read at Jackson Square. Jade introduced encouraging talk of a wedding–great news for those whose hearts are usually mentioned only in connection with hardening arteries. Sadly for all would-be Mr. Barrons, the next trip up the aisle seems destined to be taken by Tom and Mike. Mike proposed at Galatoires and was accepted. It is not yet certain when or where the nuptials will take place. There are sure to be oysters. All the party of fifteen who gathered to celebrate Tom’s big birthday will be glad of the excuse to get together again soon.

About Liz Barron

US Peace Corps Volunteer in Armenia. Permanent address in Washington DC. Deep roots in Northern Ireland and persistent Belfast accent. Blogger,cook, mother, grandma, Scrabble-player and enthusiastic world traveler.
This entry was posted in Crone in America, Culture with the Crone, Dangerous Obsessions, diet, fat, food, friendship, The Traveling Crone and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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