We woke up, still in Nola. We went for coffee at CC's. We were hoping to eat lunch with Dr. Authority and Bubbles, but they were running late. So we ended up going to the quarter. To Coop's. Finally. It was already very muggy. I was kinda thankful that Coop's was dark. I didn't know what to order. I couldn't decide. Then the guy came to take our order. So I wanted a cup of jambalaya and a salad with green goddess dressing. The Food Pimp ordered a bowl of gumbo and a bowl of jambalaya.
When the food came, I realized that I ordered a cup of gumbo. Oh well, at least it was still a home run.
So the gumbo had such a nice dark roux. Just a great gumbo. Maybe one of the best in the city. Maybe the best. It pretty much tasted like the gumbo CWS had when we had gone into Coop's with him during the last trip. It was chock full of seafood. For god's sake, the oysters were still nice and plump. The okra. I forgot how much I missed okra. It's not so plentiful in San Diego. This gumbo took me back to the days. I felt like I was on a plantation down the bayou. Sitting in the slave quarters eating my gumbo. Planning my escape to freedom. (I figure if I lived back in those days I most surely would have been a slave and not a rich landowner's daughter) Alright, I know that was weak. I guess the point is, this gumbo is timeless. It was always there at Coop's waiting for me to eat it. And it always will be there - except for at midnight on Thursday night.
So the green goddess dressing.
The salad had that same mix of greens and carrots. Nothing special. The star was the dressing. This was different. How disappointing. It was mayonnaisy, but it didn't have enough herb flavor. It was kinda white. Before it was always really green, hence the name "green goddess". This one was more of a white demigoddess. It wasn't bad. It just didn't ruffle my skirt, much less blow it up.
The jambalaya. OMG! That was my favorite. Thankfully, the FP got a bowl of it so I could eat some. It was so delicious. And once again, very consistent. This jambalaya has rabbit and sausage. So it's got this gamey earthy flavor, but not over the top gamey, just enough.
But the real genius of this dish (yes, like the genius of Cuban White Sauce) is that it's kinda mushy and saucey but not cooked to mush. Does that make sense? Well, if you've ever had Coop's jambalaya it would make sense to you. Just looking at that sloppy bowl of goodness. Oh no, here it comes. I'm getting an oral erection. Sorry. This is embarrassing. I'm like slobbering like a dog. I have to go get a bucket to catch my drool. Hold on.
Okay. I got a bucket. I'm balancing it on my lap. I just can't resist the urge to keep looking at that picture of the jambalaya. Do you not think that looks delicious? This IS the best jambalaya in the city. There. I said it. I stand by that statement. I can't think of any other jambalaya that comes close. Can you? If so, please, please, tell me about it. This shit was so good that one day CWS called to ask how to make it all wet like that. The Food Pimp thinks you just add more water than you normally would. But I feel like there's something else. Some kind of voodoo magic going on here. How does one hit a homerun every time he goes up to bat? Is that possible? It must be, because as far as I know, that's what they do at Coop's Place.
Coop's Place. For real Nawlins cuisine. Pop open a room temperature Abita and grab a bowl of jambalaya. Coop's Place. 1109 Decatur St. In the French Quarter next to Molly's. Coop's Place. Where it's dark and dingy even in the middle of the day. Coop's Place.
There I did an ad, hopefully they will pay me in jambalaya and gumbo.
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