Remembering My Friends

It's the first day of December, which marks World AIDS day. Not wanting to be maudlin or get political, the friends I've lost to this insidious disease are on my mind today. Men who were taken away from the world long before they should have been, each of them contributed much to my life and made me a better person for knowing them.

So Ernest, David, Brian, Larry, Sergio, and Mark, I hope you found peace and happiness in the great beyond. And for my friends who are still here and dealing with HIV on a daily basis, I applaud your courage and resolve to fight the good fight and I support you in every way I can.

Slinging Turkey at Shenanigan's

A chill is in the air here in the Crescent City as the holiday season is upon us. I hope that my legions of readers all had an enjoyable Thanksgiving. My celebration and gluttony was relegated to the later hours of the evening as I had to work at the restaurant, ensuring scores of families had an enjoyable holiday meal.

I've taken to referring to my place of employment as Shenanigan's in homage to the restaurant portrayed in "Waiting", starring Ryan Reynolds. Those of you who have spent time in the hospitality industry should give the movie a screening; overall the movie is just ok, but you'll recognize the archetypes of the servers and managers and may find (like me) you've worked with all of these people at one time or another.

So yesterday at Shenanigan's was a typically over-hyped affair. We had lots of reservations on the books, which meant management freaked out and overstaffed the floor. I was fortunate to do fairly well money-wise and had gracious tables with no major meltdowns. My schedule impeded my typical litany of holiday phone calls, but friends and family were on my mind as the day progressed. I am very fortunate and grateful for the people in my life, and I realized that I can do more to demonstrate and communicate my appreciation for them every day, not just on holidays.

After work I stopped for a much-needed libation en route to Peaches for a delightful repast. Peaches hosted an intimate gathering of friends earlier in the day, and I was happy to see that there was plenty of food left for me to enjoy (although considering the size of the bird he purchased at Rouse's this week I knew there would not be a shortage). Everything was delicious and we chatted and laughed as I ate and helped with the clean up of the kitchen, delighting in the music and magic of the Living Legend as is typical of our holiday (or any day)gatherings. We called it an early night as I was tired from work and needed some rest before entertaining an early morning visitor today.

This weekend the city hosts Bayou Classic, which I understand is the ignorant cousin of Essence Fest. I doubt that we'll get much traffic out of it at Shenanigan's, which is fine by me as the group we had in-house last week was ill-mannered, cheap and rude. I love the international travelers who still feign ignorance at our system of gratuities in the service industry; more than once last week I was prepared to hand back the 2% tip and let the customer know that it was obvious they needed the money more than me, but I decided better of it. Even with my disenchantment at Shenanigan's, work is work and money is money, and until I figure out the next step in my career path I need to make sure I keep the lights on and the rent paid. In fact, looking at the clock I see that it's almost time for a shower so I can go and sling again. Here's hoping for a profitable weekend...

And Ringo was his name-o

After a week of lying low and dealing with getting things put together in the new place, I went out last night to host Ringo at the Lantern. Ringo is Bingo but apparently the Catholic church in Louisiana has copyrighted the term Bingo, so no one can use the name for a game that is not affiliated with them. Lance typically hosts the weekly game as Sister Mary Isawhore, donning a habit and eye makeup and ever-changing pairs of outrageous glasses. As the good Sister is currently out of the country, I was asked to host this week's game and had a delightful time.

I've always enjoyed a good round of Sissy Bingo. We used to play every week in San Francisco (where one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence was the hostess), and from time to time the St. Pete Single Ladies Card Club would venture out to partake in a round in Florida. In my youth I was a Bingo caller for a company that provided carnival-style entertainment for corporation's employee picnics, so I'm no stranger to picking up the mic and spinning the cage.

While I did not employ a festive outfit for last night's game, I did manage to impress the crowd with a fantastic pair of oversized cat-eye glasses that Peaches had given me several months ago. Pictures to follow. It took a game for me to get warmed up, but everyone seemed to have a lot of fun, and as the night continued and the liquor flowed, things get rowdier and raunchier. Just the break I needed on a Thursday.

So Now I'm a Statistic

I awoke this morning to a gorgeous fall day with a heavy heart; I was robbed at gunpoint last night on my way home. Not even two houses away from my home I was forced to the ground with a gun put to my head while my assailant got away with my phone, the backpack containing my work shoes, and a wallet containing a dollar. Yes, a dollar...

Fortunately I was able to go to Brandon's house to call the police and NOPD responded reasonably fast. I couldn't really give a vivid description of the attacker; as horrible as it sounds he was a typical dreadlocked black guy that roams around this city.

This is not the first time I've been involved in a random act of violence. I was bashed in Boston almost 20 years ago and attacked in Florida in the mid-90's. I am grateful that last night ended with nothing more than a sore foot and a couple of bruises, but I'm confounded by the randomness that accompanies these acts. Was this guy so desperate that this was his only way to get ahead? Is he lazy and does this sort of thing instead of working for money? Do I give the appearance of an easy mark?

So now I have to deal with replacing ID's, getting another phone and all of the bullshit that comes with getting back on track after an event like this occurs. I'm angry but know that this could happen to anyone, anywhere. I can't blame this on New Orleans, and will continue to explore the city and look for the good in the people and places here.

Keys to the Kingdom

I am happy to report that I picked up the keys for my new place yesterday. I'm about to head out to gather some cleaning supplies (the last tenant's idea of "move-in ready" and mine differ quite a bit) and scrub everything down before emptying out the storage unit tomorrow. I'm very excited to have a space of my own and very, very grateful to Peaches for the limitless hospitality that's been shown since my arrival in New Orleans.

The streets were packed with costumed revelers last night for Halloween, but I opted out of the festivities because of work. By the time I left the hotel, the party was in full force, but I was not in the mood to join the drunken masses in the Quarter. Came home and watched "Elizabeth" instead--with my recent introduction to the wonderful series "The Tudors", the Anglophile in me has been reawakened with a vengeance. I fantasized about applying white makeup and a starched collar to announce my debut as the Virgin Queen, but realized that nobody would believe me...

Not much else to report. I will post some pictures of the new place over the next few days.

A Place to Hang My Hat

Ah, the pleasure of a quiet Sunday morning with coffee. I've managed to catch up on all my email, peruse all the blogs I like to frequent and prepare for a productive evening at work.

Since my last post, I've had the great fortune of finding a charming apartment. Deposit has been paid, and I can begin moving in next week. I will be living in the Treme, just around the corner from Peaches on Esplanade Avenue--close enough to walk down in my housedress to borrow a cup of sugar, or to stumble home after a night of music and revelry. The place has everything I was looking for--gated access to keep out the crazies, a porch of my own, onsite laundry and a gorgeous courtyard to enjoy. The space is a one bedroom that was originally the dining room of a very grand 19th century structure, and features the shuttered windows and high ceilings that embody New Orleans architecture. I'm excited to finally occupy a space of my own. For the past 2-3 years I've essentially lived out of a suitcase, so it's nice to know I can finally settle in one location for a while. There's plenty of room to accommodate guests, so once I get some furniture, all are welcome to visit. Did I mention there's a pool?

As a followup to my last post, I also had the privilege of talking with Irma Thomas on Friday, who was at the hotel to participate in a live radio broadcast that was used to promote the show she performed last night. I thought it was a kick to actually thank an artist for a wonderful concert, and she was very gracious and down to earth. Now I can say that I've met a Grammy winner.

Not much else to report today. Enjoy your Sunday!

Sunday in the Park with Irma

I suppose Mother Nature must read my blog because after last week's rant on the never-ending heat and humidity in New Orleans, we were treated to a break in the weather over the weekend. The rain finally stopped, the temperatures plummeted about 25 degrees, and it actually feels like autumn now. The windows have been flung open, and everyone's been digging out pants and long-sleeved shirts to venture outside.

I finally had a day off on Sunday after a laborious stint at the hotel, and was delighted to see the abundance of festivals and activities taking place in the City to enjoy. I settled on an afternoon in Lafayette Square to partake in the Crescent City Blues and Barbecue Festival. This is one of many festivals sponsored by the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival and Foundation, and it was truly a delightful afternoon. The festival featured barbecue by several local restaurants, arts and crafts vendors and two stages for musical performances by a host of local favorites. I saw Tribe 13 (fronted by Cyril Neville), Sonny Landreth, T-Model Ford and Irma Thomas. All of the acts were good, but Irma Thomas was absolutely fantastic--of course when your moniker is the Soul Queen of New Orleans how could you be anything less? I got to spend some time with my friends Zak and Angelique and everyone in the park was in a very festive mood since the Saints kicked the Giants' ass at the Superdome during the festival (not that I care a lot about football, but apparently the local team is having a great season so far).

So all in all, a perfect Sunday afternoon. This was definitely an event that strengthened my affection for New Orleans--I'm still not in love with the city, but charming events like the festival add to my growing warmth for the place I currently call home.

Steamy Days on the Delta

Ah, the pleasure of a dinner shift! After a couple of weeks of early morning obligations with work, I'm finally schedule for an evening shift, and have been enjoying a morning of coffee and contemplation while catching up on unread email and other communications. Those of you who know me personally know that I am not a morning person, and successive days of rising at 4:15 in the morning to make it to work have taken a toll. In a city like New Orleans, it's very difficult to enjoy the revelry and decadence when you have to rise before the sun comes up...

So we're in the middle of October, and it is still hot and sticky in the Crescent City. I am accustomed to the humidity of Florida, which arrives unannounced one day in April and departs just as quickly sometime around late September. We have had an inordinate amount of rain in the past few days, and the heat does not want to dissipate, making any outdoor activity a sticky, sweaty affair. While we were treated to a couple of autumnal days a couple of weeks ago, the forecast calls for more rain and hot temperatures for the rest of the week.

As I mentioned in my last post, I attended my 20th high school reunion this past weekend in North Carolina. The trip was a surgical strike that provided me with the appropriate amount of time to spend with my family and to see how the people I grew up have fared since I left the state in 1989. Overall the reunion was a pleasant experience--no huge revelations or shenanigans. More than half of the class attended (about 80 out of 135 graduates) and I learned that about a dozen of us left the state in our adult lives. In fact, most of the alumni continue to reside in and around Clayton, which is a testament to the hold small town living has for some many people. I did not win any of the awards that were presented, so I'm not the one who's changed the most or the least, lives the farthest away or had the most children--only in Johnston County can someone get a certificate for their ability to breed...

Hope that everyone is enjoying October, and preparing for a festive Halloween. My gracious host and I decided to set out as the Beals of Grey Gardens this year, but it appears that both of us will be working Halloween night, so I will probably just go out to see what the masses present for costumes. It's not like the citizens here need an official day to get dressed up and take to the streets, but my understanding is that Halloween is another big party in the land that lives for Laissez les bons temps rouler.

Sunday's Second Line

While I'm a bit weary from another run of early morning restaurant shifts (which I've been told end this week), I felt compelled to post about a sight I witnessed yesterday afternoon--a Second Line that paraded by the house.

I had just arrived home from work yesterday afternoon and watched Brandon leave for his shift at Fins when my phone rang. "There's a huge Second Line coming up North Rampart, and they're turning up Esplanade. You should be able to see it from the front door". No sooner had I opened the door and stepped out on the stoop, there it was--a glorious, six minute parade of about 300 people, complete with a shoe-shaped float containing matrons waving to the crowd assembled on the neutral ground (the divide between opposing flows of traffic)and the banquettes (sidewalks here in New Orleans), a brass band, and a sea of dancers and steppers marching along. I have no idea what they were representing, but that's never the point. Second Lines are a common occurence here.

New Orleans is a city built on a colorful history that is represented by an overwhelming number of festivals, displays, costumes and parades. I've quickly learned in my short time here that any excuse will do for people to don costumes and take to the streets. The Second Lines appear frequently. The origin of the Second Line, as I understand it, was to celebrate the life of a recently deceased after the burial had taken place. Those Second Lines still occur here, but the parades now mark any occasion--I witnessed a Second Line for a local church go by the door at 10am on a Sunday morning in August. Many locals will have a second line as part of their wedding, and we even had one run through the hotel a couple of weeks ago that had all of the restaurant patrons up out of their chairs, waving and twirling their napkins as the parade passed through the lobby.

The spirit of the Second Line is infectious, and you'll see people move from watching along the periphery to the middle of the moving throng, waving handkerchiefs or parasols as they step and undulate to the music. It's a wonderful mix of people--race and social status don't seem to matter; as long as you're moving and keeping with the music they'll let you in. I've never witnessed anything like it anywhere else I've lived, and I think it's a wonderful practice that makes New Orleans such a unique place in the world.

We'll talk about yats and accents another day...

Taking a MacBook for a drive

Greetings, gentle readers!

We've crawled into the final quarter of 2009, and I realized with regret this morning that it has been several weeks since my last post. Crazy work schedules and sheer laziness have contributed to my absence from the blogosphere, but I'm committing to once again become a more frequent poster.

And today, I'm writing from Peaches' new laptop, a MacBook he got from a friend for a song. My first computer experiences back in school were with the McIntosh that really brought Apple into the forefront of computing, back when Microsoft was still tweaking DOS. I've always admired the simplicity of Apple's systems, but find the cost of their equipment beyond my budget. Having twirled around on this computer for a couple of hours, though, I may have to save some pennies and bite the bullet once my wonderful Gateway laptop finally dies.

So no huge updates to report. I've begun looking at apartments, trying to determine where I want to hang my hat in the Crescent City. I am also preparing for a return to North Carolina next week for my 20th high school reunion. I'm a bit ambivalent about seeing all of these people from my past, but it will be nice to spend some time with the family and see almost of the Gouger clan (practically my second family growing up).

The sun is finally trying to peak through the clouds, and I'm determined to take advantage of the day as my next day off is next Thursday.

Singing and Slinging

Just a quick check-in post to let my legions of readers know that I'm still alive and kicking. Life has been consumed by work over the last few weeks, although I was able to enjoy a couple days of merriment with Peaches and my dear friend Gabriel at Southern Decadence Labor Day weekend. Gabriel came into town on Friday and Brandon had the weekend off, so we were able to hang out and drink in the sights of one of the biggest and craziest events I've witnessed yet in New Orleans. Peaches has lots of pics from the parade, so I won't post them here, with the exception of one, taken with one of my favorite local talents, Miss Giselle Bouvier:



There were lots of nice gentlemen in town for the event, and the streets were literally packed with throngs of men for three days. I saw some delights and some horrors, and realized how little shame some people have--that, or they must dress completely in the dark without the use of mirrors...

I worked breakfast/lunch at the hotel yesterday, and joined Brandon after work for a couple of Happy Hour libations. One of his co-workers, Adam, met up with us, and coerced us out of the usual haunt of the Golden Lantern over to Good Friends, where it was Karaoke night. What fun! One of the joys of my life is singing, and Brandon and I both wowed the crowd as we pulled out some true muscial gems. There was even a Patented Peaches Pants-drop during "Two Doors Down", but then again, Brandon always has a flair for showmanship. I'm sure future Tuesdays will involve singing at Good Friends, and next time I'll be sure to have my camera.

Pizza, Brownies and Hooch

Having experienced a recent creative drought, I realized this morning that I needed to post something on the blog to keep my enormous readership up to date on life's goings-on in the Crescent City. Work at the Roosevelt has kept me fairly occupied, and I've been adjusting to a constantly-changing schedule--keeps things interesting, I guess, and I'm grateful to have a job with benefits in beautiful surroundings.

Peaches and I both had the evening off last night, and decided to stroll around the Quarter for a bit and watch the early arrival of revelers who will fill the City this weekend to celebrate Southern Decadence. I'm looking forward to the event, and anticipate much fun and debauchery. We decided to store up some party points for the weekend, and after a polite cocktail at Lafitte's and a delightful nibble of brie with a glass of Prosecco at the Grapevine we headed home for an evening of tunes, laughs and delicious homemade food.

I won't go on about the mad skills my charming host possesses in the kitchen, but we enjoyed a delightful repast of homemade pizza last night. Behold:

Having cleaned out Rouse's of the Martha White pizza dough mix that is apparently disappearing from store shelves, Brandon created a delightful pie from scratch, topping it with pepperoni, mushrooms, red onions, zucchini, red bell pepper and cheese. Beats anything you can have delivered, and I relish the cold pizza treat I plan to enjoy after completing this post. While Brandon prepped dinner, I worked to slake our thirst with delightful cocktails made with Stoli blueberry and soda with a splash of pomegranate juice (I've sworn off sweet tea vodka).

And for dessert? Homemade brownies, of course.

Brandon received the brownie pan for his birthday, and the brownies are moist and sinfully chocolate. You want to eat more than one, but know you just can't...and shouldn't...but you do anyway.

Lots of music and laughter punctuated the evening and I tried my best to stay awake during a viewing of "Best in Show", but alas, a long day and a full belly took me away to dreamland before the movie was over. At least I made it through the opening credits.

It's gorgeous outside and I have the day off, so I'm going to head soon in search of simple pleasures to enrich the day.

Super Luxe Sundays

Stepping out back to put on a load of laundry this morning, I was amazed at the pleasant weather we are experiencing, especially considering that it's August in New Orleans. After a day of torrential rain on Friday, the humidity seems to have disappeared, and the weather reports are calling for the high today to reach the upper 80's, which is perfect weather in my book. For some strange reason, the weather took my mind to a place that offers conditions like this almost all year round: Aruba.

I love to travel, and I love exploring the Caribbean. I've had the good fortune to experience quite a few islands (mostly due to work), and Aruba is one island I long to visit again. Gorgeous beaches, friendly locals, and fantastic food.

Aruba is part of the Dutch Antilles and is located 15 miles off the coast of Venezuela in the southern Caribbean. The are four predominate languages spoken on the island: English, Dutch, Spanish and Papiemento, a local language that's been cobbled together through centuries of cultural mixing from immigrants around the world. Unlike other islands that have natives who are discontent, even openly hostile to tourists, Arubans are welcoming and happy to share their island and culture with visitors. The beaches are pristine, and the water is one of the prettiest shades of blue I've ever encountered in my life. The island is less than 20 miles long and 6 miles across at its widest point, so one is able to comfortably explore the terrain without feeling overwhelmed. Of course much of the beach has been developed with hotels and resorts to accommodate the tourist trade, but the interior of the island offers fantastic flora and fauna for naturists to enjoy. Even along the roads near the resorts packs of wild goats can stop traffic as they forage for food.

I've stayed at several resorts during my visits, including a three week stint at the Wyndham, a gorgeous luxury property on the island, that is apparently no longer in existence. No matter--find a hotel, grab a rum runner, slather on the sunscreen and soak up some rays by the pool. You'll understand the meaning of Paradise as the gentle breeze caresses your skin and your cares and worries melt away.

In Praise of the Po'Boy

I had the luxury of a day off on Wednesday, and spent the day lounging around the house and catching up on emails, phone calls and other correspondence that had suffered my neglect during my last bout of work insanity (I'm thankful to report that I've pared life down to one job, the Roosevelt, so I can finally begin to enjoy the experience of life in New Orleans). Brandon had the day off as well, and we decided to head out and make groceries. Before hitting Rouse's we stopped off for a quick repast at one of the city's best joints for Po'Boys, the Parkway.

Brandon had taken me to the Parkway on my visit to New Orleans at Easter, and I could not believe the roast beef Po'Boy we shared. It was one of the messiest sandwiches I've ever eaten, and one of the best. The Po'Boy contained delectable chunks of roast beef, smothered in gravy, and the sandwich came dressed with the usual adornments; mayo, lettuce, tomato and pickles. The sandwich literally comes apart as you consume it, and there's as much filling on the wrapper as there is in the Po'Boy.

The Po'Boy is a quintessential New Orleans creation; in fact the Po-Boy Preservation Society has a web site that gives the background on the inventors of the sandwich. There's even a Po'Boy Festival (of course), which Brandon swears is one of the best festivals in the city.

On Wednesday I decided to stick with the tried and true roast beef Po'Boy, while Brandon enjoyed the daily special, a Cuban. The sandwich looked delicious, and Peaches declared that the Cuban rivaled any concotion he had sampled in Tampa. My roast beef was delightful as well, and once I again I practically emptied a napkin holder plowing through the sandwich.

My dear friend Veeta has been making noise about coming to the Crescent City for the holidays and wants to tour the city in search of the perfect muffaletta; I think we're going to concentrate on Po'Boys instead.

Here we come, on the run, with a burger and a bun

After a three day run of double shifts, I met Brandon out last night for a couple of much-needed libations. Tired, a little cranky, and hungry, we decided to grab some food before heading home as the cabinets are quickly reaching Mother Hubbard status. Typically, late night snacks come from the Verti Mart, located a couple of doors down from our usual watering hole, but their grill was off for cleaning. Fortunately the Quarter has several 24 hour grills that deliver, so all was not lost. Brandon whipped out a menu and treated us to a late night repast of bacon cheeseburgers.

Aware of the fact that the consumption of grease and bread, particulary late night, contributes to my Ruebenesque stature, I shed all thoughts of guilt and shame when we arrived home and opened the to-go boxes. Staring me in the face was a delicious, juicy bacon cheeseburger, topped with swiss cheese and appropriately dressed. I grabbed the ketchup and the mustard and enjoyed the burger with reckless abandon.

I'm a huge fan of cheeseburgers, and summertime is not complete until a few tastily prepared burgers have been consumed. Unlike my rule of one hot dog a year, I could enjoy a burger every day. Brandon receives several food and entertaining magazines every month, and the August issue of Saveur magazine was dedicated to the burger. Page after page is devoted to one of the quintessential American food staples, and each article leaves the reader salivating with a desire to break out the grill or hit the nearest burger joint for some hot beef satisfaction.

I'm not very fond of chain restaurant burgers, with the possible exception of In-N-Out, which makes every burger fresh to order. I do enjoy checking out local restaurants and bars to discover a good burger, as I find these are these places put thought and effort into their burgers, and often show as much care about taste and presentation as one would in his own kitchen. Several weeks ago we dined at the Camellia Grill located off St. Charles Street and enjoyed fantastic burgers. And of course, Quarter crawlers are always guaranteed a tasty treat at the Clover Grill on Bourbon Street (although I still long for the return of Earl the Girl to the counter). There are several other local spots that carry a good burger reputation, and I look forward to trying them all, cholesterol be damned.

A nice mellow Monday

Having worked my way through two pots of coffee this morning, I'm in a surprisingly mellow mood for a Monday. I've never been one of those Monday Haters, so it's nice to wake up and embrace the day.

I start training at the Roosevelt this evening, and have a very full schedule ahead of me. I agreed to be a guest post on my friend Paul's blog, Kitchen and Residential Design, so I'm trying to decide what to share with his vast readership. Hysterically, several of his guest posts have featured fabulous cocktail recipes, and Paul does not drink. Guess you really have to know him to find the humor.

Nothing really luxurious to share today; just the pleasure of listening to the rain while I catch up on neglected tasks and phone calls. I may indulge in another piece of delicious cake before going to work. The apple I had for breakfast more than offsets the sugar, carbs and calories in the confection, right?

Who Wants Cake?

Yes, another post about delicious food. With the advent of a hectic work schedule (which is not a complaint; I'm happy for the opportunities) I've had little time to pursue pleasure outside of the delicious treats that Brandon has prepared. Wednesday was Brandon's birthday, and to celebrate, he made a fantabulous cake. Behold:

This recipe comes straight off the Hershey's cocoa tin. It's a dense, moist chocolate cake, and Brandon decided to enhance the flavor by adding a peanut butter filling in between the two layers. As peanut butter and chocolate is one of the best flavor combinations in the world, needless to say I was in heaven. The frosting was the Perfectly Chocolate frosting recipe, also found on the container.

I am amazed that any of the cake is still around! We've been working our way through it, enjoying polite slices in the evening after work while watching season two of "Mad Men". The simplest pleasures can provide the ultimate satisfaction, and I'm grateful to be temporarily housed in the company of such a delightful gourmand.

The Pleasure of Low-Country Fare

I've had the luxury of a couple of days off, coupled with the delightful news from the Roosevelt that I start orientation in the morning. My objective is to work out a schedule with the hotel and Commander's Palace so I can amass some coinage and stay busy during the slow season (which is upon us) by working both jobs.

Life has not been all toil and drudgery, despite the tone of my last few feeble posts. I'm fortunate to have a wonderful friend and host helping me through this transition time. I've mentioned in the past the extraordinary talents that Brandon possesses, and I decided to share one of his recent triumphs to ease back into the Sybarite mindset.

Readers who want to know more about the delicious pot roast dinner he served last week can check out his blog, Where the Sweet Olive Grows. I was just as taken with the low-country fare he prepared for us the night before: shrimp and grits.

If you've never visited the Southeastern United States and sampled the amazing dishes of the region, you really don't know what you are missing. Cooks for generations have used indigineous ingredients to create simple, yet unforgettable dishes. Low-country cooking refers to the area primarily around southeastern South Carolina and northeastern Georgia (the Charleston/Savannah area).

Having grown up in North Carolina, I have always been a fan of grits. Much to the horror and chagrin of friends I made when I moved to Boston, grits are best served piping hot with some butter and salt, and in my opinion they triumph over oatmeal any day of the week. If you have the good fortune to have salty country ham served with breakfast, by all means, slather your grits (and your biscuits) with red-eye gravy (made with drippings from the ham along with coffee). As I began traveling the country I stumbled upon shrimp and grits at a restaurant in Charleston, and marveled at the combination of seafood, spices and cheesy grits. I've had other delightful versions of the dish, especially at the now defunct Agnes and Muriel's in Atlanta.

Brandon's version included Lousiana shrimp, red pepper, tomato, garlic,green onion, lemon juice and some Worchestshire sauce which was sauteed and ladeled over cheese grits. While Brandon claimed the grits were too salty, I found the dish a wonderful adventure for the palate. The picture on the blog does not do the dish justice. I was transported back to memories of some of my favorite low-country meals, and was delighted to add another luxurious culinary delight to the list.

I'm Still Here!

For my handful of faithful readers, I apologize for the lack of recent entries. Life has been the antithesis of a Sybaritic existence, but sometimes you gotta' do what you gotta' do.

I'll be back on a regular posting schedule soon...

The Luxury of Choice

Another quick post today before I head to work. Still haven't heard from HR at the Roosevelt, but I had another interview at Commander's Palace yesterday, where I got a job. Hooray! I start next Wednesday. Until then I'll keep slinging at the Crazy Lobster--there's a convention in town with 35000 Lutheran teens, so even though it means endless rounds of sodas and burgers I can at least make a little money before going into training.

Chicken and Cold Air

Readers of my good friend and gracious host Brandon's blog, Where the Sweet Olive Grows, have by now learned of our last few days sequestered in his hot box of an apartment due to the malfunction of the air conditioner. While Mother Nature was kind enough to keep the temperatures in the low 80's it's been very difficult to enjoy a peaceful night's sleep--I was up at 3:30 this morning and could not get comfortable enough to go back to sleep.

Thankfully, Brandon's landlady was dilligent in getting the matter resolved, and I'm delighted to report that the AC has been restored. I've never considered myself the possessor of a delicate constitution, but it was sweet relief to feel cold air pouring out of the vents.

So it's been a productive day. We went to Rouse's to make groceries, then went down the street to Lil' Dizzy's cafe for lunch. This is one of those long-time New Orleans establishments that features lots of celebrity photos on the walls and delicious food. We both enjoyed fried chicken and I'm finally beginning to crawl out of the diabetic coma induced by the sweet tea.

Now it's time for a quick disco nap before heading to work. Nothing luxurious about the Crazy Lobster, but it's a means to an end until the Roosevelt gets things put together.

Super Luxe Sundays

After work last night, I decided to enjoy a libation to relax and unwind, but realized that I needed to step away from the Sweet Tea cocktails that I've been consuming since I moved to the Crescent City. Rather than hop to my old standby, Ketel One, I realized that it's the middle of summer and hot summer nights always beg for a delicious gin and tonic.

While I'm not as much of a proponent for gin as I am for vodka, I do enjoy the occasional gin and tonic. I enjoyed the standard Tanqueray and tonic last night, but my favorite gin is Boodles. While not a standard issue in most drinking establishments, Boodles is, in my opinion, the tastiest gin on the market.

According to Wikipedia, Boodles was named for the Boodles gentleman's club in London. Founded in 1762, the club was originally run by Edward Boodle, and the hooch was purported to be a favorite of Winston Churchill.

I find Boodles possesses a nice flavor of juniper and coriander, and the cocktails always have a nice finish. There was a summer in my wayward youth where I consumed enough Tanqueray that I swore off gin for many years, but Boodles provided a lovely entree back into this part of the spirit world.

Priced appropriately for a Super Luxe Sunday entry, Boodles is distributed in the states by Pernod Ricard. So pick up a bottle at your local liquorteria, grab some tonic, a couple of limes and enjoy a Boodles libation.

A new dessert to try

Combing through the blogosphere this morning, I came across a link that almost made me break out in a cold sweat. There is a blogger named Ashley that writes about food on the blog notwithoutsalt.com and the link I hit took me to her recipe for bacon caramels.

I adore all things porcine, and cannot wait to try this recipe. The combination of sweet and savory should prove to be nothing less than a culinary showstopper. I'll let you know how these turn out.

The pleasure of good coffee

Ah, Friday. I finally have a day off, and while I have quite a few things on my to-do list, I've been happy to greet the morning by enjoying a slice of delicious banana bread that Brandon made earlier in the week with one too many cups of tasty coffee.

While I do not consider myself a coffee snob, I do enjoy a good cup of joe. I find a tasty cup or two is the perfect way to ease into the day, clear the cobwebs out of my head and prepare myself for another fascinating day.

In the past I used to frequent Starbucks and indulged in buying their Kenyan AA beans to grind and enjoy at home. In leaner financial times I was forced to examine whether the $7-$8 price tag was worth the pleasure derived from the cup. Relegated to finding a less expensive brand, I stumbled upon Eight O'Clock coffee, and it's been a treasured find that I continue to enjoy.

Eight O'Clock coffee offers a well-roasted, fairly balanced flavor. I gravitate toward the French Roast, but have enjoyed their Columbian beans, as well as the Italian Dark Roast, which I've only seen at Rouse's in the Quarter. The coffees are reasonably priced, and I always anticipate a cup of joy while the grounds are marinating in the French press.

While some of my friends take their passion for coffee much more seriously than me (at one time Paul roasted his own beans), I'm all about the quick and easy solution for my morning fix. If you haven't tried an Eight O'Clock brand, you should invest a couple of bucks in a bag and take it for a test run. Remember, some of life's best pleasures do not command outrageous price tags.

Lessons from the Past

After another long day at work, I came home to an excellent dinner that Brandon had prepared (meatloaf, scalloped potatoes and collard greens) and we watched an interesting documentary about the neighborhood in which he resides. The documentary is "Faubourg Treme: The Untold Story of Black New Orleans".

The Treme is one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city, and from the start it represented one of the most unique living situations in the country. Populated with a mix of free blacks, whites and an array of other recent immigrants, the Treme became a daring social experiment, as it was fully integrated while slavery was still legal in the US. Home of the nation's first black newspaper, the residents of the Treme pushed for equal rights for all citizens of the nation, and made progress in the late 1800's that was not seen again until the 1960's.

Filled with lots of photos, character studies and interviews with a collection of long-time residents, the film shows the rise and fall of the Treme, and shows how Supreme Court decisions like Plessy vs. Ferguson and the construction of I-10 on Claiborne Street effectively dismantled the neighborhood and resegregrated the population that had worked so diligently to move the city and the country in the direction that the Founding Fathers originally envisioned. The filmed was edited after Hurricane Katrina, and shows heartbreaking pictures of the damage the neighborhood sustained from the storm.

Currently, the city planning commission is exploring an idea to dismantle I-10 in an attempt to re gentrify the neighborhood. It's going to take a lot of work to get the area back into shape, but I hope for the sake of the Treme and its residents the plan moves forward. I love walking around this neighborhood, but it's painfully obvious that the once-grand area has suffered decades of abuse and neglect.

If you want to learn more about the documentary, check out their website.

Super Luxe Sundays

Back to the blog after another double--I cannot wait to starting working at the Roosevelt!

Today's Super Luxe Sunday focuses on the pleasures of a fine chappeaux. I adore fabulous hats, and feel that men are shortchanged in the ability to wear glamorous hats for festive occasions. My circle of friends always create visions of loveliness for Easter, which we proudly display while enjoying a delightful brunch.

There is a great shop on Royal Street called Fleur de Paris that creates glorious hats for the well-heeled ladies of New Orleans. The hats on their website do not really do the shop justice. Brandon and I frequent the store to see the tasty offerings they have for sale, and one of his Easter hats this year was inspired by a hat they had for sale. Behold:



The offerings at Fleur de Paris do not come cheap, but that's what Super Luxe Sundays are all about. So the next time you're invited to a fete or when you decide to wend your way up to Kentucky for the Derby, swing by Fleur de Paris to make sure you're appropriately attired.

The luxury of on-site laundry

While I've posted in the past about my willingness to hit the local washateria to clean clothes, I was reminded this morning of the luxury of on-site laundry facilities while watching Brandon take his clothes out for a rinse and spin.

At the moment I'm forced to do laundry fairly frequently as most of my attire is in storage, and it's nice to be able to walk to the back courtyard and throw in a load while puttering around the house during the day. The one issue here is that the laundry facilities are shared among four condo's, and there is invariably that one person who never takes their clothes out of the dryer, and trust me, there is no luxury or pleasure in handling another's undergarments (unless that's your thing...)

I landed a job at the Roosevelt Hotel yesterday, and look forward to starting work there next week. In the meantime, I'm still slinging at the Crazy Lobster, and am eagerly anticipating a day off tomorrow. By that point I promise to pull it together and get back on track with Sybarite musings.

By the way, fans of Peaches will be happy to know that at long last, he's finally entered the blogosphere. Check out his blog here; I'm sure the tales will be many and highly entertaining.

Another Blue Ribbon Pie

After a delightful day of rest and relaxation, I'm back to the blog.

While most Americans celebrated the 4th of July over the weekend, I was forced to delay my revelry as I was caught up in my four day double shift hell at work. Brandon had the weekend off, and decided to create a quintessential American dish to celebrate the birth of our nation--a glorious apple pie. Behold:

The pie was absolutely delicious--once again Brandon outdid himself. The crust was tender and flaky, and the filling was spiced to perfection. The master baker has decided to share his recipe so you can create a tasty pastry of your own.

Apple Pie filling:

5 lb bag of Granny Smith apples

2 tablespoons cinammon

A gentle dash of ginger

1/2 cup cane syrup

1 tablespoon of corn starch

Peel and core apples and combine all the other ingredients. Bake the pie at 400 degrees for an hour or until the crust is golden and the filling bubbly.

He kept the preparation of the crumb topping a secret, but the ingredients include butter, flour, sugar, and cinnamon. Perhaps if you come to New Orleans for a visit, you can persuade him to demonstrate his skill at crust and topping preparation.

Back to the Blog...

I hope that everyone enjoyed the weekend and the holiday. I've spent the last four days working 12-15 hours a day, slinging food and drinks for a variety of folks in town for Essence Fest and the 4th of July. While it proved to be a profitable weekend, I've done nothing but work and sleep.

I kept my commitment of posting an entry every day for 30 days last month, and I'm happy to be over the hump of arduous labor so I can begin daily posts again.

For today, I'm going to enjoy the luxury of rest.

Luxury gone awry...

After our fabulous dinner (and my hurried blog post) last night, Brandon and I settled in to watch "Grey Gardens". Brandon had never seen it before, and I was happy to watch the film again. If you haven't checked it out, you simply must.

"Grey Gardens" is a documentary that was filmed in the early 70's by the Maysles brothers. The film follows the ladies Beale of Grey Gardens--mother Big Edie and daughter Little Edie. The ladies were related to Jackie O and once enjoyed a life of luxury and high society in the Hamptons in a sprawling mansion and beautiful gardens. By the time the filmmakers catch up with the Edies they've run out of money and Grey Gardens is in a disastrous state of disrepair--so bad that the NY Health Department threatened to evict them before Jackie O came and cleaned up the place. The film takes place after the cleanup, and mother and daughter continue to live among cats, raccoons and who knows what else in complete squalor.

Both Edies have larger than life personalities, Big Edie prides herself on being a great singer in her day and Little Edie always longed to be an actress and a dancer. Each shows off her talents in the film. They've spent so much time together, just the two of them, that they're both a bit demented--they laugh, fight, and reminisce about grander days of yore.

The film by turns is funny, appalling and heartbreaking. To witness two ladies who lived a life of high style and luxury sink to the very depths of degeneration is almost a train wreck to watch, but once you start, you can't look away.

HBO recently filmed a nice companion piece to the doco starring Jessica Lange as Big Edie and Drew Barrymore as Little Edie. The film provides some backdrop on the ladies to round out the story of how they came to participate in the documentary, and both actresses are absolutely dead on in their portrayal of the Beals.

So put it in your Netflix queue or pick up a copy from Amazon. You won't be disappointed with "Grey Gardens".

The Fabulous Fins

Another late blog post as I worked during the day today--gotta' figure out a new schedule for posting on the site.

After another day of sweat and toil, I was treated to a luxurious dinner by Peaches. He works at GW Fins in the French Quarter and was offered a dinner for two as a thank you for all of the training he's been taking care of recently. I happily accepted his invitation, as this is one of the premiere seafood houses in New Orleans, and I was not disappointed by the experience.

Yes, I'm talking about food again, because you know that food is one of life's essential and ultimate pleasures. We started off with some smoked sizzling oysters and a shrimp cocktail--both were a delight, and the oysters really do sizzle as they are presented at the table. We enjoyed a couple of salads--I had the Creole tomato salad with onions, cucumbers, bleu cheese and a sherry vinaigrette, while Brandon had a Butter Lettuce salad with avocado, asparagus, roasted pepper, deviled eggs and Green Goddess dressing.

The entrees were also fabulous. I enjoyed a wood-grilled Pompano with a 6 melon salsa, plantain chips and crab meat, while Brandon had a rib eye served with onion strings and a fantastic sweet potato side(with bourbon and bananas). While I wanted to enjoy a dessert, I was simply too full from the glorious repast.

If you're in the Crescent City and looking for a gorgeous, upscale dining experience, check out GW Fins--it's suddenly become one of this Sybarite's go-to destinations.

Sippin' on a cool one

As I was walking home from work this afternoon, the skies opened up and it began to pour. Lucky for me I was in the Quarter taking care of some business, and was only two blocks away from one of my local watering holes, so I decided to cool off and wait for the rain to pass--and wouldn't you know, Happy Hour had just begun! I smiled as I took a much needed rest and ordered up a libation that's been a favorite of mine recently, a sweet tea vodka and water.

Sweet tea vodka is very popular down here, and I had not been exposed to it previously. While I will never abandon the Ketel, this is actually a decent liquor, and the cocktails go down smooth (maybe a bit too smooth).

The brand they use at the Lantern is Dukes--not overly sweet and tastes great in a cocktail. Another popular brand is Firefly; we got a bottle at the package store the other day for about $23.

So if you're looking for a change of pace in your cocktail, order a sweet tea with water. It will quench your thirst and give you a buzz--truly a pleasure in life.

Super Luxe Sundays

We're in the middle of some pretty nasty weather, but I didn't want to let a little thunder and lightning keep me from my post. Looking around at gorgeous, luxurious things for Super Luxe Sundays, I went over to see some of the delights that have been designed at the House of Baccarat.

Most sybarites are familiar with Baccarat--started back in 1764, the company provides an array of crystalware for table and home. There are tons of gorgeous pieces and collections on their website, and here are a few that really tickled my fancy.



This Moulin Rouge champagne bucket features a bottle holder so you never have to worry about losing your bubble in the bucket.



I love this decanter--very handsome piece of crystal that would be perfect in my home.

Baccarat is sold in higher end retail establishments in this country (Neimen Marcus has a huge selection). And those of you who wish to add the ultimate Baccarat piece to your home should consider breaking out the Black Amex for this:



This piece was created in 1994 to celebrate the company's 230th anniversary. It features 230 lights and measures 16.4 feet high and 9.8 feet across. Weighing in at 1.5 tons and featuring over a mile of wiring the chandelier took over 15000 hours to complete.

Wouldn't this look great in your home?

The Pleasure of Employment

Apologies for the late post today, but I started my first day of work this morning.

After two weeks in New Orleans, and numerous interviews, I landed a job as a waiter at a restaurant called The Crazy Lobster. The restaurant is located on the Riverwalk near Harrah's Casino, and has a great view of the Mississippi. It's all about the seafood, and everything looks pretty fresh. They had a live band play all day, and it was busy--haven't had to move like that in quite a while.

Food and Beverage is my fall-back job track--I've done it so much throughout the years that I always say that if everything goes to hell, I can at least wait tables. This city takes its hospitality very seriously, and my lack of recent employment in the field undoubtedly cost me some jobs in the more upscale houses. I'm not worried, though--now that I have work I can get on with the business of truly getting settled in and taking time to learn about all the pleasures and luxuries New Orleans has to offer.

An obvious side benefit for me will be a weight reduction, as I must have sweated out three pounds today, working in the heat...

Friday on Fabulon

With the newsworld abuzz with yesterday's celebrity demises and a blustery day of intermittent showers pounding the Crescent City, I decided to make sure all of my readers (all three of you, LOL) take some time to visit Planet Fabulon. This blog has become a daily read for me, and always provides a snicker or an "oooh/ah" moment with the pictures and videos that are posted.

Planet Fabulon finds images of vintage fashion, avant garde photography and usually includes a killer one-liner under the image to round out the presentation. I have no idea where they find the time to scour the Internet for everything that they post, but it's always a pleasant surprise to see what's on the blog, which is usually updated several times a day.

So take some time today to put a smile on your face and see what's happening at Planet Fabulon.

As the cookie crumbles...

Since I have lots of friends who are great cooks, it would be unfair of me to constantly focus on the delightful offerings that come out of Brandon's kitchen (although we did enjoy a lovely steak dinner last night, served with roasted potatoes mixed in with the green bean dish I prepared earlier this week). My friend Paul has some mad skills in the kitchen too, and one of his recent blog posts gives readers a great recipe for chocolate chip cookies. Of course, the recipe is preceded by a rant, but that's just how he rolls. Click here to check out the post.

I love these cookies! They're moist, chewy and delightfully doughy. Paul keeps the cookies in the fridge, and the cold chunks of chocolate are a true pleasure to enjoy. Even with my desire to be conscious of my food consumption, I can never say no to "just one" as we watch bad TV.

Paul's signature pie around the holidays is the shoo-fly pie, which is a gooey molasses confection. Apparently this pie is de rigueur in Pennsylvania, and it's always a delight to enjoy. Shoo-fly pie comes in two varieties--wet bottom and dry bottom. We partake of the wet bottom, and that's all I'm going to say on the subject. Perhaps he can be persuaded to share that recipe in the future.

Keep your fork, there's Pie!

My friend and gracious host Brandon is an extraordinary cook. I've been raving about dishes that he's prepared since my arrival in the Crescent City, not only because I find food to be one of life's greatest pleasures, but also to keep the folks back home up to date on his latest culinary adventures. Some of my fondest memories of my time in St. Pete were Sundays spent on the back porch shared by Brandon and Paul, enjoying cocktails and delicious meals while carrying on.

Last week I wrote about the fantastic pork roast Brandon prepared. He saved the stock from the roast and used it yesterday to prepare a hearty soup of black eyed peas, collards, bacon, and tomatoes. The soup simmered away in the crockpot for 6 or 7 hours. Served with cornbread, it was a savory delight. Behold:

And if that wasn't enough, for dessert we enjoyed a delicious cherry pie. Brandon has been going on for a couple of days about pie, and yesterday as we were out for a walk, he picked up some ridicuously priced cherries at Rouses and threw together a prize-worthy confection. He enjoyed ice cream with his slice, but I tend to be more of a pie-purist, and simply had a plate of pie. So you know what's for breakfast this morning...



New Orleans is really hot and steamy right now, but I think it's a blessing in disguise as the weather guarantees that I sweat off some of the calories during my daily walk around the city. Today I head back to the Garden District for a follow-up interview at Commander's Palace; I hope to turn on the charm and get hired as I'm more than ready to get to work.

My Inner Sybarite

After a couple of drinks out last night, and a delicious pitcher of iced tea cocktails at home, Brandon suggested we put on an episode of Absolutely Fabulous for a laugh. I ecstatically agreed.

AbFab is one of my all-time favorite shows. Produced by the BBC in the early 90's, with special shows filmed well into this decade, AbFab follows the exploits of Edina Monsoon and Patsy Stone, childhood friends who grew up in the 60's and never let go of the booze, drugs and partying of their heyday. Their exploits are hilarious, and I laugh every time I watch an episode.

There's a part of my inner sybarite that longs to be like Patsy--always in Chanel or Dior suits, "working" at a magazine as Fashion Editor while swilling champagne or vodka and practically eating cigarettes. She's witty and acerbic and I love her. I try not to be as morally bankrupt as Patsy, but I, like her, "love shopping for knick knacks and gorgeous things".

If it's been a while since you've spent time with the ladies, check them out on YouTube or get a season or two from Netflix. Put on your Le Croix, throw back some bolly, and join in the depravity with the twisted, modern day Lucy and Ethel.

Love your pet? Get a portrait!

Glancing through the blogs I like to peruse, I noticed that my good friend Christine Winship updated an entry on her blog, The Pedigree Artist.

Christine is a dear friend and a fantastic artist. I've commissioned several works from her, and seeing art that was created specifically for me always brings me great joy. Christine develops work along many themes, but her blog focuses on the niche of creating pet portraits.

I am not a pet person, but I know that pets are like children to many of their owners. Christine can take a photo of your pet and render it into a gorgeous painting that becomes the ultimate keepsake. Her prices are reasonable and her attention to detail is amazing.

I know several friends that commissioned Christine to paint a picture of a friend's house as a Christmas gift--charming idea that allows the recipient to enjoy personalized art that showcases his home.

Many people feel that buying and collecting art is an expensive undertaking, but it doesn't have to be. The enjoyment of art is another of life's pleasures that should not be ignored. Check out Christine's work and get your personal collection going today.

Super Luxe Sundays

Today's post deals with anticipated luxury. New Orleans is awash with speculation and high anticipation for the reopening of a city landmark, The Roosevelt Hotel.

This hotel is part of the Waldorf-Astoria collection and is a member of the Hilton family of hotels. The Roosevelt was originally opened as The Grunewald in 1893, and later changed to the Fairmont Hotel. Closed in 2005, the Roosevelt Hotel's website boasts of a $145 million renovation, and you can't talk to a resident of this City who doesn't have the highest expectations for this property to succeed.

The Restless Sybarite has had the good fortune to stay in a host of beautiful hotels and luxurious properties during his stints on the road. Properties like the Essex House in Manhattan, the Ritz Carlton in St. Thomas, and the Hotel Bel Air in Beverly Hills strive to indulge a patron's every whim and command top dollar for their ambiance and services. These properties offer a weary traveler sumptuous accommodations and makes him feel welcomed by surrounding him with plush furnishings, great art and (usually) top-rated food and drink.

Trust me, I've stayed at almost every level of hotel in this country, and the high end properties know how to do it right. I left each of those stays feeling rejuvenated and a bit grand for a day or two after the visit. I'm anxious to spend some time in the Roosevelt Hotel, scheduled to open July 1. It sounds like it's going to be a fantastic property, and I can hardly wait to indulge in its luxury.

Luxury Bathing with Dr. Bronner

I've spent quite a bit of time on the pleasures of food this week, so today I decided to turn to another of life's little luxuries that makes even a dreary day brighter: bathing.

I relish my time spent under the nozzle of a nice hot shower, and find that a daily bathing ritual offers many people their only opportunity for some personal time to relax, recharge and contemplate. I don't have an elaborate bathing routine (in fact, I prefew to shave in the shower but my mirror didn't make it in the move), but I do enjoy the luxury of good soap. Brandon shares my love for several products produced by Dr. Bronner, and has two varities for indulgence in the bath.

I was first turned on to Dr. Bronner when I got a stocking stuffer of his peppermint soap many Christmases ago from my friend Paul. I was amazed how the soap could cool down the body even in the summer heat of Florida, and I always left the shower feeling tingly and refreshed. Sold in various sizes, I encourage everyone to add some peppermint soap to your bathroom.

Brandon also has a tea tree soap that's quite delightful. I've never used this soap with regularity, but it has a nice fragrance and leaves you feeling nice and clean.

Dr. Bronner's soaps are completely biodegradable and vegetable based, and in perusing their website today I discovered that their products are made with Certified Fair Trade and organic oils.

So step up your hygiene and indulge in another simple luxury that sets the sybarite apart from the simpleton. You can find Dr. Bronner products in most major retailers and specialty health food and grocery stores, or go here to order online. Your skin and soul will thank you for it!

The Darker the Berry, the Sweeter the Juice

I seem to be on a food kick with my posts this week, but I can't think of a better topic, especially in a city like New Orleans that offers such delightful variety. I mentioned at the end of my post yesterday that I was anticipating a delicious dinner that my friend Brandon put together for us, and once again, he outdid himself.

We picked up a nice pork roast at Rouses last weekend, and he put it in the crock pot before we left the house yesterday morning. Combined with onions, spices, and a kick-ass sauce he threw together, we enjoyed some spectacular sandwiches last night as we watched "The Color Purple". Accompanying the pork was a delicious homemade Cajun slaw that was primarily creole mustard based, which provided a nice counterpoint to the tangy flavor of the pork.

And feast your eyes on dessert:

While Brandon is a dynamic cook, his ultimate talents are best displayed in his baking. He found a recipe for a blueberry upside down cake in a booklet he had in the kitchen, and quickly adapted it to make use of the blueberries, strawberries and raspberries that were on hand. The result was positively delightful. The cake is so moist, and the berries add complexity to the cake without overwhelming it.

I've said it before; food is one of the great pleasures in life, and I'm fortunate to be in the company of a fabulous gormand. Time for some leftovers!

Good Pig, Bad Pig

I've had two distinct experiences with two kinds of pigs in the last 24 hours. My friend Angelique invited me to join her, her husband Zac and another friend for dinner last night at Cochon. Donald Link opened Cochon a couple of years ago, and has enjoyed critical acclaim for the down home, central Louisiana food he prepares. I was excited to check this place out, as I've read no fewer than five articles about it in the past two years. Thankfully, Angelique works there so we were able to feast on a discount, and feast we did. We shared appetizers of ribs, oysters, crawfish pie, rabbit livers, the evening special (eggplant with city ham and a sunny side up egg), as well as the boucherie plate. All of the meat is butchered and prepared on site, and each plate was absolutely delicious.

Knowing that we were having pork tonight, I opted for the smoked beef brisket served with horseradish potato salad for my entree. This dish was absolutely out of this world, and I enjoyed it with reckless abandon. I was also able to sample some of my dining companion's dinners, and enjoyed the pork tenderloin and the fried pigs ears, lima beans and collards that the kitchen sent to the table as a wonderful lagniappe. If you want to treat yourself to a delicious meal, you must try Cochon.

The bad pig was encountered this morning as Peaches and I made our way over to collect Angelique and head out to do a bit of shopping. These kids don't have a car, so now that I've arrived with my truck they're anxious to occasionally leave the Quarter and explore the largesse available in the suburbs. Driving down Rampart, I switched lanes as there was a truck stopped in the middle of the street, and was pulled over by the cops for failing to use my signal in a lane change. Yes, I got a ticket, which really pissed me off, because it was obvious the cops were just looking to fill a quota. I shook it off and we enjoyed our trip, but now I have to decide whether to fight the ticket or just pay the fine and move on.

Now I'm enjoying the smells of a slow cooking pork roast and anticipating a slice of triple berry upside down cake that Peaches is preparing for our evening repast. I should find out about a job in the next two days, so life is coming together nicely.

Holy Guacamole!

I have the good fortune of being surrounded by good cooks. Most of my friends in Florida and my host here in New Orleans enjoy cooking and sharing delicously prepared meals. One of the most important pleasures in life is good food, and being around folks who know how to work with food provides an excellent opportunity to pick up tips and develop new skills.

Since my arrival, I have not prepared a lot of food; Brandon can pull off a delicious meal with a few basic ingredients in no time, and I've been content to enjoy his dishes. When he was at work last night I finally broke down and whipped up some guacamole.

I have been on a gaucamole kick for a couple of months now, and I'm not sure what brought it on. It's a simple dish, and the ingredients are good for the body. I found a recipe from one of my favorite celebrity chefs, Ina Garten (aka The Barefoot Contessa), and could not believe how quick the dish is to prepare. You can whip up a batch in under 10 minutes, and the results are tasty and incredibly satisfying.

The recipe is on Food Network's web site. Go here for the recipe.

If you have another recipe for great guacamole, please share.

BYOM (Bring Your Own Meat)

I got a bit of a late start this morning after a night of revelry with Peaches in my new city. After pounding the pavement yesterday and enjoying an early evening stroll through the Marigny neighborhood, I went out to quench my thirst with a polite libation at Good Friends. Once Peaches got off work we wended our way over to the Golden Lantern for a couple of cocktails before heading home to enjoy a late night (early morning) snack to aid in soaking up the liquor.

Having been to New Orleans on numerous occasions before moving here, I always appreciate the promos that the bar owners put together in order to generate business. Flipping through the local rag yesterday I squealed as I saw not one, not two, but three different bars that have a weekly special that invites patrons to bring their own meat to the bar for grilling. I did not make it to Monday's BYOM night at the Phoenix, but plan to attend one of these evenings in the very near future to see who trots in a flank steak or a chicken breast. The image of patrons anticipating a delicious meal as they walk through the Quarter with their meat in a bag or Tupperware container to be skillfully grilled at the local watering hole still has me giggling.

Apparently the New Orleans Bears also hold a weekly bake sale at one of the bars, but I'll leave the details of that for another post...

Time Keeps On Slipping into the Future

As I awoke this morning I realized that today is June 15. In addition to this being my friend Suzanne's birthday, it also marks the middle of the year--that's right, kids, 2009 is half over. I am continually amazed at the speed which pages of the calendar fall away. This year has been fairly chaotic for me so far, but now that I'm in a new location, I have visions of fun, ease and splendor on the brain.

So far my time in New Orleans has been enchanting--the festivals were great fun yesterday, with tasty food and lively Zydeco music, and my host Peaches has been a gem. Today reality sets in as I look for work so I can begin the process of establishing myself in my new city. There seems to be ample opportunity to get work, so I am envisioning the job search to be a quick and easy process.

Wish me luck!

Super Luxe Sundays

To celebrate my arrival in New Orleans, today's offering for Super Luxe Sundays is local jewelry desinger Mignon Faget. Her web site offers a variety of "extraordinary jewelry" and other gorgeous things. To insure I do not violate the copyright terms on her site, I will refrain from posting pictures, but here are a few items that I found particularly appealing:

Diamond Tux Studs in 14K gold for $1100

Fleur De Lis belt buckle in 14K gold for $3350

King and Queen Goblets set of four for $65

Faget has five stores around Louisiana so check her out if you're in the mood for to add some luxury to your life.

The Pleasure of a lazy Saturday

So today is my first full day as a New Orleanian, and besides making groceries at Rouse's this morning, it's been a lovely, lazy day. After two days of packing, driving and schlepping, I needed a day of down time to relax and recharge before gearing up for the job search.

I am so excited to be in the city. It's definitely come back to life, and there's a whirlwind of activities to enjoy. My gracious host and good friend Brandon (the infamous Peaches Muffaletta Jackson) will be joining me tomorrow to enjoy the three festivals that are going on this weekend: the Tomato Festival, Seafood Festival and Zydeco Festival. I can't wait!

To celebrate my arrival in the city yesterday I decided to sample some local cuisine and ended up at the Chartres House Cafe. The building has been in existence since 1795 and is located on the corner of Chartres and Toulouse in the French Quarter. While the bartender seemed annoyed to be at work, I enjoyed a great dish of Jambalaya, and the restaurant was a great nice place to relax and enjoy a meal without the cacophony of Bourbon Street.

Think it's time for a disco nap before heading out to explore some more.

On the Road Again

Just a quick post this morning before I head out on the final leg of my trip to New Orleans. I got a later start than I anticipated yesterday, but made it to Tallahassee about midnight and threw it down for some much needed rest.

Now it's time for a quick shower and another cup of coffee, then I'm on the road. Catch up with you tomorrow from the Crescent City!

Life in Eight Boxes

Today is moving day. After a week of relentless sorting and purging, I have about two more boxes to pack, then a quick trip to the thrift store to donate a couple of pieces of furniture before cleaning up the apartment. I hope to be on the road by mid-afternoon.

I am very excited for the new adventures, and look forward to sharing the journey with you.

When the Moon Hits Your Eye Like a Big Pizza Pie

As my time winds down here in Florida, I've been fortunate to receive lots of invites to join friends for a nibble or a cocktail before I take off. As I mentioned before, good friends are the ultimate luxury, and I consider myself very lucky to have such great people in my life.

I met up with my friend Nancy last night for our long-standing pizza and wine ritual. It's always a great time as we catch up and laugh about all manner of people and things. In addition to the vino and good conversation, we had a really good pizza...from Domino's, of all places.

Now I'm not a pizza snob, but I tend to gravitate toward local shops when indulging in my quest for a good pie. I don't have lots of specifications on what toppings must be included, and try to keep an open mind when sharing a pizza (except for anchovies, can't handle anchovies). Nancy is a vegetarian, and we've discovered a lovely creation from Domino's called the Pacific Veggie, which is part of their American Legends line. The Pacific Veggie has roasted red peppers, spinach, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, and black olives with provolone and feta cheese. Ordered on a thin crust, it's a delicious experience. The vegetables were fresh and the pizza was delivered piping hot, although I'm sure it would be just as delicious eaten cold the next morning (which Nancy confirmed). Knowing that pizza will move to the bottom of the food chain as I move to the land of po-boy's and gumbo, I enjoyed every bite.

So if you're in the mood for a good pizza, give the Pacific Veggie a try. It's a simple pleasure that's worth the money. And for God's sakes, stay away from that pasta in a bread bowl thing Domino's has rolled out--it looks like a total carbfest that's guaranteed to bring shame and tighter pants the morning after.

Add some beauty to your kitchen

I see from traffic reports and a couple of comments that people are starting to find my musings, which is exciting. I hope to connect with folks around the world who resonate with the Restless Sybarite's mindset and lifestyle.

If you love nice things (and of course you do, or you wouldn't be here), my good friend Paul Anater has a great contest running on his blog this week. Paul is a designer and writes about a host of design topics at Kitchen and Residential Design. His mission is to provide useful information on various aspects of design that help people make better choices that reflect their sensibility when designing their living space. Knowledgable and highly opinionated, he's never one to shy away from any topic, and does not suffer fools, as several readers have discovered. I read his blog every day; for me it's like having a cup of coffee with him in the morning.

So Paul has partnered with Boston-based design firm All Modern to give away a gorgeous Alessi kettle. Behold:



Paul is obsessed with Alessi, as you'll see on his blog. Rather than rehash all of the particulars about the giveaway, head over to Kitchen and Residential Design and see for yourself. It's a super easy contest (just leave a comment), and a great way to get a lovely piece of luxury into your home.

It's Enough to Drive You Crazy If You Let It

Perusing through the blogs and newsfeeds this morning, I was disappointed to learn that the Living Legend, my girl Dolly Parton, did not win a Tony last night for her muscial adaption of "9 to 5". Apparently almost everything went to Elton John's "Billy Elliot". I haven't seen either show, so I can't comment on the merits of the awards, but I always love to see the Blue Valley Songbird get recognition for her endless talent.

I don't go in for award shows, but reading about the offerings on the Great White Way made me realize that it's been far too long since I've seen a show. I had the pleasure of seeing the original cast in "Wicked" several years ago, and we had front row seats for the revival of "Steel Magnolias", which was a fantastic production.

I love the theater and there's something magical about seeing a show on Broadway. Sure, the touring companies can be good; I've seen "Sunset Boulevard", "Cats", "Les Miserables" and "Hair" in various locales, but nothing holds the charm of hunkering down in a packed house in New York. Plays are one of the great pleasures in life, and I encourage everyone to see at least one show on Broadway.

Looks like I need to find a way to wing it up to New York this summer...

Super Luxe Sundays

As I sort and pack my possessions I come across items that remind me of the places that I've lived. This weekend I've had Boston on the brain; today is my friend Christine's birthday, and several people that I knew from my times in the city have reappeared this week to catch up on life's happenings. In keeping with the theme of Super Luxe Sundays, today I decided to spotlight a Boston institution for charming, luxurious gifts and jewlery, Shreve, Crump & Low.

Hailing itself as "The Gem of Boston since 1796", the flagship store is located on the corner of Boylston and Newberry Streets, diagonally across from the entrance to the Public Gardens and a stone's throw from the Ritz Carlton and Park Plaza hotels. Watchmaker John McFarlane opened the original store across the street from Paul Revere in Downtown Crossing in 1796, and consolidated into its present entity through growth and partnerships in the 1800's. I have fond memories of the gazing at the gorgeous displays in the windows that made many a passerby stop and dream, and stepping into the store made me wish my last name was Cabot or Kennedy instead of Smith.

Offering a beautiful selection of jewelry, silver and crystal objet d'art, a glance through the store or the company's website promotes visions of grand, fabulous living. Behold:

Gorgeous Men's Jaeger Reverso watch, available for $21,800.

Antique sterling silver handmade candy dish, available for $750.

Beautiful Baccarat ice bucket, available for $635.

If you appreciate nice things but don't live for luxury, there are many items that are well priced and delightful. And if you're ever in New England and in search of the perfect hostess gift, I always suggest the Gurgling Cod.

These pitchers come in three sizes and were first developed in 1964. Modeled after a traditional English "glug jug", the pitchers make a delightful sound as you pour them and are crafted to show a remarkable likeness to the native fish of New England that's on every menu in town.

So the next time you find yourself in Boston (please don't refer to it as Beantown), stop by Shreve, Crump & Low to feast your eyes on luxury. It's fine if you want to speak through a clenched jaw in an attempt to sound like a Mayflower-descended sophisticate, but for God's sakes don't drop the "r" from your speech pattern...

Rockin' with the Rhythm of the Rain

Short post this morning as I have to be in Tampa for an open house I committed to work.

My days of being an early riser are few and far between, having abandoned the 5am awakening to hit the gym before work long, long ago. Unlike some folks I know who can sleep the day away, I tend to get up around 7 or so. Knowing that I had to get up and take care of things before heading out this morning I set the alarm for 6 and hoped that I wouldn't languish in bed working the snooze button for 45 minutes, which is my typical MO.

I woke up today with the sound of rain beating down outside and smiled. I love the sound of rain in the morning, especially in Florida at this time of year, because you know that on most days the storm will pass in 10 to 15 minutes. Today was no exception; by the time my coffee was ready the storm was gone, and the sun began to light up the sky.

Yes, I know this means the day will probably be very sticky, helped in part by the morning moisture, but the morning shower outside my window did as much to get me going today as the shower I am about to jump in after breakfast.

So it's a simple pleasure today; waking up to the sounds of a summer rain.

I'm cuckoo for Ketel One

After a semi-productive day yesterday, I was invited out for a polite cocktail with my friend Cheeky Monkey. Having completed the two week booze restriction of the South Beach Diet that I recently started again, and realizing that I hadn't been out in what seemed like a month of Sundays, I accepted and headed to our usual watering hole.

Thursdays at this particular establishment feature a drink special of Long Island Ice Teas served in huge Mason jars for $3. As a former (and probably future) bartender, I hate making this drink; it ranks up there with a Ramos Fizz as a pain in the ass. Not that it's a complicated concoction, it's simply a time consuming drink to prepare, especially if you're working a busy bar. Watching the boys make them last night I determined that my opinion is my own personal issue, as they slung LIIT's right and left with speed (not precision--when you're dumping that much liquor in a drink and topping it with coke and sour mix, there's really no need to worry about proportion).

While I appreciate the need for value when you decide to get your drink on, I steered clear of the bucket 'o booze and enjoyed a couple of my standard libations: the Ketel One and soda. It's a crisp, refreshing cocktail that never fails to satisfy.

I've always been a vodka man. Through years of trial and error I've learned that whiskey makes me angry, scotch makes me cry and tequila opens me up to do all sorts of things that a person shouldn't do (at least not in public). For seasoned hopheads, vodka may be considered the gateway liquor of youth that leads the palate to more refined appreciation of single-malts and vintage agaves, but for my money, vodka's always been the liquor of choice.

In my younger days I was an Absolut kind of guy until moving to California where I stumbled upon Stolichnaya. Stoli is a delicious Russian vodka and I consumed scores of Stoli madras while holding up walls in various saloons around San Francisco. The flavor of Stoli was smoother than Absolut, and allowed me to indulge in fantasies of keeping up with Patsy Stone and Edina Monsoon, two characters I adore who consumed Stoli by the case. I spent many years indulging in the bliss of Stoli cocktails until a fateful day (the particulars of which escape me now) when I tried Ketel One.

Ah, Ketel. I was in love from the first libation. Ketel One is a Dutch vodka that has one of the cleanest tastes in the market. It's smooth and mixes perfectly with club soda, as well as standing on its own in a bone-dry martini. Once I found Ketel I never looked back unless I found myself at some watering hole or unfortunate cocktail soiree where they had no good booze on the bar. In addition to the taste (and I will debate anyone who claims that vodka is a flavorless liquor), the occasional night of overindulgence in Ketel can be quickly remedied by a glass or two of water.

Ketel is one the higher end of price points in the liquor realm (this is a blog about luxury and pleasure, remember), but in my mind it's worth the price. Life is too short to drink cheap liquor and date bad kissers, so if you're up for some good hootch, pay the extra dollar and enjoy a quality cocktail. Your brain and liver will thank you for it in the morning.