Pork Butt, Bom chicka wow wow

Pork Butt, Bom chicka wow wow

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Monday, April 6, 2009

nola, part 4b

So we were back in the hotel again. For saying we weren't going to spend that much time in the hotel, we sure did. Guess that's what happens as we get older.

So we were hanging out in the hotel. I had been deciding all weekend whether or not to get a tattoo. I couldn't really afford it. But I really wanted one. This was my last chance. So I decided to go for it. I told the Food Pimp, I think I want to go get a tattoo. So he said, okay, where you going to get it done? So Electric Ladyland was the only choice. It was one of the more popular places, and it was the one that was open the latest on Sunday. So we walked down to Frenchman. The FP made plans to meet up with John Sparkling Wine next door at DBA. It worked out perfectly. So I went in. I told them what I wanted. The guy, Terry (that's his real name so you can ask for him), drew it up, I liked it. So they went to copy it, and I waited. The FP and JSW went next door. So then Terry was ready for me. He positioned the stencil on my arm and asked if that was how I wanted it. I said sure. So I sat and he started. It hurt. Of course it hurt. I was a little weak from the weekend of drinking. I didn't have any water. I guess I could have asked for some. But I didn't want to seem like a pussy. Every once in a while when it struck a nerve, it really hurt. Otherwise, you really kinda get used to it. So it took about 20 - 30 minutes. Then he was done. I didn't bleed too much.

Here it is!

So I went next door and I got a water. The FP and JSW were trying different beers. I felt so weak that I knew I couldn't drink. I was done. But I sat there with my water and my bandaged arm.

So then we said bye to JSW. And then we were walking through the quarter. Again. We spent so much time in the quarter and marigny that weekend. But then we needed to eat. What to eat? The FP kinda wanted Coop's, but we had already been there. We couldn't think of something good that would be worthy of a last meal. Then it struck me. Desire. On Bourbon street. In the Hotel Royal Sonesta. So touristy. But it would be a real nostalgia trip.

So we went onto Bourbon Street. Desire was not that busy. It's bright, has an oyster bar, very touristy feel. This is one of the places we used to go to when we first moved to Nola. We would take our friends from out of town there. There was some drink we would get. I can't remember the name - I think it was a New Orleans nectar daquiri. It was so good. Really just like a milkshake that gets you fucked up.

So anyway. That's where we ate. We sat at a table close to the oyster bar. There was this older man who fell out of his bar stool. But the weird thing was, he wasn't drunk. Really. He sounded completely sober. But he had leaned back on his stool and bonked his head on the tile floor. I guess he was fine, because he got up and got back on that bar stool.

So we ordered. An abita for the FP. I think I had water. The FP got gumbo and etouffee. I got etouffee. I couldn't watch him eat it and be eating something else.
I figured I had a right every once in a while to just eat what I wanted, right?

Gumbo. It was just good. You know. Like classic flavors. Not too swampy, not too watery. Deep and seafoody. Really quite tasty.

Here's the bread bag for the baguette that came with it.

Crawfish etouffee. This is the dish. This is the one. Maybe the one that made us move to Nola in the first place. Really. Buttery. Rich. The veggies sauteed in butter. The crawfish. God how I miss crawfish! So yummy. This was just a really good dish. Very satisfying. Very good end to a very great trip. During this trip, I really was able to step back and remember my life in Nola. I miss a lot of my life there. Really. I'm not the person I was there. A part of me died when I left New Orleans. I think it's a part of me I'll never get back. But when I visit, I'm reminded of that former self that I forgot. It's a struggle to remember the passion, the pain, the intensity, the love, the loyalty, the angst, the hardship, the recklessness, the courage, the stupidity, the sensuality, the illusion, the soul, everything that I left behind that made me myself. All the things that I shared with my friends in that beautiful damned city.

Desire Oyster Bar in the Royal Sonesta



caninecologne said...

wow, cool tat! you're so brave! if i ever got a tattoo, that would be the same place i'd put it. then i'd get fat arms, then the tattoo would look all fkd up and wrinkly when i get old. i'm too chicken to get a tattoo, so i'm living vicariously thru yours!

the food ho said...

That's so funny that you are really a brave person for all you've had to put up with, without a choice, and a tattoo is scary to you!

caninecologne said...

thanks, but i'm a total pussy. i love tattoos though - they look so cool but i couldn't make myself go thru with it.

omg, i went to this exercise boot camp this morning with my friend (you'll meet her tomorrow at sab e lee). i felt like dying! i felt like an unfit fat ass compared to some of the ken and barby like people there.