Experiencing New Orleans

Canal st. Streetcar

Today was day of experiencing all the facets of New Orleans. There are so many things that are synonymous with the Big Easy, we are hoping to get at least a taste of most of them before our stay is over. First up, all things Mardi Gras at Mardi Gras World, home of Kern Studios, where some of the best floats are crafted. Here, an army of artisans begin work on float concepts the day after Mardi Gras, usually with a theme determined by the krewes or organizations that are holding the parades. In New Orleans, there are more than 60 krewes, but only a few have the history and size to be able to have their floats designed by Kern Studios, and these are the same krewes who's parades are showcased on Mardi Gras. 

Our visit takes us into the warehouses where the artists work, where the floats are built, and where previous years' creations are stored. Keep in mind that some of these krewes have been in operation of over 140 years, and you can just imagine the collection of STUFF in here! After a brief film on the history or Kern Studios, and a most welcome piece of King's Cake, we head into the warehouse to see the artists at work. Some are hand-sculpting styrofoam bases to keep the floats light in weight. These bases are then covered in papier maché to provide a smooth layer for the painters to then work their magic. 

One thing I noticed it that the paint work done here is overly-dramatic, which I imagine has the best effect visually when viewed from afar. the colours are bright, the shadows overly-enhanced, and the details are exaggerated. Seeing well-know pop-culture icons here in the warehouse, they seem almost farcical, but I can also imagine that they would make quite the impact being paraded down a big New Orleans street. (It's important to note that these parades NEVER happen on Bourbon street, much as the stereotypical image of New Orleans makes us think that. Bourbon is much too narrow for the big parades to roll down!)Obviously, there are plenty of fun photo ops in the warehouse with all the recognizable characters that have played parts in parades past, but after our tour, we head back into the French Quarter for our next quintessential NOLA experience: Po'Boys. 

Now Po'Boys, short for "poor boys", are a New Orleans institution, a combination of the crispy-yet-tender bread that comes from the French history here(but does not resemble baguette in the least), paired once upon a time with tender roast beef, but now is better known for fillings of crispy fried shrimp, oysters, or even chunks of alligator, topped with lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise. It is simple and unassuming and very filling, and delicious when done right. And if you ask me, Johnny's Po'boys are just that. The place is a real dive, but the line is out the door, the service is fast, and the food simple but delicious. I get a shrimp po'boy with a side of seafood gumbo, and Mario gets the real classic roast beef one with a side of red beans and rice, and we are sincerely happy eaters for that moment in time, the deliciousness of the food blocking out all the noise and commotion around us. It was a good lunch.

After lunch, and having walked again through the cacophony that is Bourbon street, even in the middle of the day, we hopped a street car to the west of the city, and a neighbourhood called the Garden District. Here is where you find all the historical mansions of the American elite, renovated and restored and now the upscale part of town. And you can feel the change in vibe the minute you get off the street car anywhere in the neighborhood. Big live oaks line the streets, and the sidewalks pitch and roll around them. The homes tower above the wrought-iron fences that surround them, sometimes just barely peeking out from behind large hedges that hide them from view. Entrances are framed by neo-classical colonnades, balconies are adorned with wrought-iron lace-like details like the ones back in the French Quarter. Gardens are immaculately designed and tended - at least, the ones we can see are! We follow a good online self-guided tour which leads us around to all the places of note, including some homes belonging to notable celebrities like actress Sandra Bullock and author Anne Rice. We stop in a swanky-looking coffee shop inside a repurposed roller skating rink, and are disappointed that in such a fancy place, the coffee is not better tasting. We move on.

Chocolate praline

A streetcar ride later and we are back in the French Quarter, just as the sun is going down and the music levels are rising. We make a quick stop in one of the many praline shops for a tasting, pralines being another must-try when in NOLA. Turns out, we picked the best one, because the pralines were AMAZING. Just sweet enough without being cloying, full pecan halves and an excellent nut-to-sugar ratio. For something similar in taste to a caramel mixed with a crystalline fudge, even Mario said he liked it! Though the chocolate one, the mixture being flavoured with cocoa, and so more rich and bitter, was the really winner. 

Back on Bourbon street, it's now Saturday night, and the crazies are starting to show up. I think there must've been a graduation ball, or maybe a homecoming dance, or SOMETHING, because there are clusters of young men, dressed in black suits with bowties, walking arm-in-arm with young women in short, tight dresses, that all look the same, just in different colours and fabrics. It's still early, so there are still traveling couples walking around, some with a conservative drink or two in hand, admiring the scene and the architecture equally. Then there are the groups of college men who are already half in the bag, looking for the next drink, the next sports bar to invade, the next snazzy car to gawk over. On top of all those people, there are the "cigarette" vendors, the jello shot girls, the fortune tellers set up in the shadows on the street corners. Motorcycles, convertibles, jeeps, or any kind of car, really, with a sound system made for an auditorium, drive slowly down the side streets, music arriving 2 blocks before the vehicle does. We listen for some jazz or blues at the doorways of various clubs, but the music blends together into this melting pot of noise and thumping, noise and thumping. I think you need a drink to appreciate all of this, so we head into one of a dozen or so copycat frozen daiquiri bars, where a row of slushie machines is lined up along one wall, each spinning a different shade of fluorescent colour, each sporting a different wild name accompanied by the list of spirits mixed in. In a giant plastic flute, about 24 inches long, we mix a pineapple amaretto concoction with a strawberry something or other, and in goes an even-longer straw. What a wild thing. The flavours were good, at least, not just sugary syrup taste. We sip and walk, walk and sip, observe a bit. We turn the corner and walk on a parallel street, which is quieter, and more enjoyable to us. We turn again, walk, turn the other way, winding our way slowly through all the other roads of the French Quarter, all the way to Decatur. There's still half a daiquiri left.

Finding a jug band parked on a street corner

Finishing the night off right.

Cafe du Monde calls, but with a drink in hand, I think it best if we get our beignets to go, which turns out to be a good idea, but also a totally different experience. They come in a bag, still drowning in powdered sugar, but now we can shake them to coat! I may even like this better than the pile dumped on a plate. I take a bite and toss my beignet back in for another good shaking, because more sugar, right? We end up down a well-lit back street behind the St. Louis Cathedral, in front of an art studio showcasing a giant rotating blue dog, eating beignets from a paper bag and dumping loads of powdered sugar all over the floor, while taking sips from a giant flute of frozen daiquiri. If this isn't New Orleans, well, I don't know what else to say.