Tuesday started with Jesse improving, me starting the blog, and me sleeping in until 7ish. I did the usual things in my room at Le Richelieu Hotel, including reading my email (mostly deleting and unsubscribing from various Democrat candidates who must have gotten my email from the bleeding-heart liberal list of supporters; I do qualify, but now that I am not working, I am more careful with my spending. I made in-room coffee and missed waking up with Deborah and bringing her coffee in bed. She would wake before me and play word games until I finally woke up; then I would make the coffee and bring it to her. Instead, I make coffee for one here in New Orleans’ French Quarter, read email (as I said, mostly deleting), update Quicken transactions downloaded from my various accounts, and read the news from the NY Times and Semafor.
Aside: For those who believe what Trump says about the NY Times, I read it not for the political stuff (though I like it), but more for their reviews and stories. The writing is well edited, and stories are delivered in ways that make you want to keep reading. Every day, the NY Times is a study in how to write. I believe in the saying “steel cuts steel”; to be the best, you must experience the best and try to reach its level. Imitate the best, learn it, own it, make it your own.
Linda (my sister) and Jesse (her husband) contact me; they check out, and we walk to Envie for breakfast. Jesse is smiling again, but ready to head home. Jesse was sick from the food yesterday and has made a recovery after a terrible afternoon and evening. He suggests it was the vampires. He did not sparkle or catch fire in the morning light, so he seemed recovered.
I had the traditional breakfast with bacon and grits. Linda and Jesse found their favorites, and we were soon happy to drink coffee and eat again. An Uber was ordered, and soon Linda and Jesse were off in a black SUV that any mob or ICE person would be proud to use to the airport. They would return home on a direct flight to Detroit, with no recurrence of Vampire-caused illness.
I had a demo class at the New Orleans School of Cooking on the other side of the Quarter at 10:30, and there is a coffee place around the corner (not that I have been here enough to know all this). I got a Londo Fog for too much and drank it slowly while I wrote the blog. I had just about finished when my phone rang. My class was starting early–oops–and I walked around the corner and was the last person. I missed the intros, but not much more.
Chef Dianne was cooking and had a few items started so we could finish and eat before 12:30. I was sitting next to some folks from Wisconsin, but they were none too friendly, and I think I annoyed them more by sharing their table. C’est la vie.
I watched, listened, and asked a question or two. I timed the rice for the chef for the jambalaya, and like every time I’ve made it, it took twice as long to cook as the recipe said. I felt better about that! Once again, I envied the induction stove for keeping the heat steady while I made the roux. My electric stove is old-school and pulses heat, which can make this exciting–and not in a good way. Sigh.
The gumbo without seafood was excellent. One of the Wisconsin people started to talk to me; she is a retired cook and smiled. Better. The jambalaya was not spicy enough, but the rice was perfect, and there were plenty of spices ready to fix ‘r up. The Banana Foster was too small a portion, but excellent and flamed, of course. The pralines were nothing I liked, but there was too much sugar by that point after the banana stuff.
With that done, I walked the ten blocks to the hotel in increasing heat. I had published the blog, returning to the coffee place for a few minutes to finish up. It was hot, and it was heading into another 91ºF (32ºC) day. I dropped off the laptop, got a bottle of water (another one; I drank one as I got to the hotel), wrote down my plans in a small notebook, and headed out. I ordered an Uber to Metairie Cemetery.
The driver was surprised, I could tell, as he does not get many trips there. This is not one of the tourist stops and not near the Quarter or other well-visited areas. I wrote down the names and locations (but I found that the cemetery, like many, does not have signs for sections) for the driver.
I found Anne Rice, of vampire fame, not far from the entrance in a newest but old-style above-ground mausoleum. My driver said it was a rich person’s cemetery and was not covered with Katrina. He was here for that and lives not far from there. He remembers the lesser cemetary nearby was flooded and the caskets poping out of the ground and floated. He said it was unreal to see caskets all over the area.
I wanted to end my American Civil War odyssey with General Hood. His remains were there in an above-ground traditional New Orleans tomb. I walked and walked. I went to the pictures in Find-A-Grave and noticed a tall statue on a base and soon spotted it. Then I spotted the monument to Louisiana Confederate Troops. On the other side was a small, older tomb with a few flags, and someone left a boot with a sock (Gen. Hood lost a leg in the war and was strapped to his saddle when riding). It was a very plain tomb with a vase with ‘HOOD’ carved in stone in front, with a few rebel flags. It was his wife’s family tomb. He died bankrupt when Yellow Fever shut down the local stock market and then died from the same scourge. He lost his wife and a child before succumbing himself. A sad story. His nine remaining orphaned children were then adopted by nine different families.
Still, it felt like I had completed my ACW tour now. The battlefield, and now the grave of the man who defined, though bloody, the last action for the Confederacy. Here, within sight of a monument to the men he expended and failed.
With that done, I had to find my way back, as I had come by a meandering trail. I found a straighter way out when I heard the highway next to the graveyard (and was careful to locate it, since my hearing is only on one side). I passed Anne Rice again and then called an Uber that, for another $30, would get me back. It was slightly cheaper to get here. Hmmm.
Back at the hotel and calling Deborah, I am ready for a nap. All the granite in the graveyard was radiating extra heat. It is not a place to go on a hot, sunny day!
But housekeeping is running late, offers to get the room in shape, and I head out instead. I walk to Frenchman Street without my hat, and I soon was missing it. The Spotted Cat was open and the band had just ended a set. I got a Sazerac in a plastic cup and nursed that through the set. They were lead by a trumpet player and he was loud and fun. The music was wonderful and I was feeling better.
Aside: The streets in the Quarter are lined with stone or newer concrete. But Frenchman Street had a different look; there was even a tiny plaque for the steel-and-cement curbs from more than a century ago.
I was next to some women and we chatted between sets. They knew jazz and was enjoying all the bands. The next set, and a Gin and Tonic, was my next choice. After that set I headed to a local Italian place.
This was the kind of place for high-spending folks and I just wanted good food. I had OK food. I’m sure Olive Garden could have done as well or better. And the price tag there could have been a few meals at OG with friends. But the coffee and dessert was great. Their bread was fantastic too.
Next, I walked back into the Jackson Square area, but the carts were gone. I saw they were now used for Ghost stories, which I would have needed to book in advance. Hmmm. Instead, I walked to Napoleon House and had Primm’s cup. It was excellent, and unlike anything I’d had before there. Refreshing. I remembered Dondrea had one and thought it excellent when we were here together last time.
After that, I walked back to the hotel, enjoying the streets. I stopped to look at a corner building, heard a voice say, “You all come this way,” was startled, and realized I had stumbled into a tour. I smiled and left. “You never know which buildings are haunted here,” he said, smiling.
Back at the hotel, I said good night to Deborah on a call and then read. I packed almost everything amazed it all fit. I double-checked that I had not missed anything. I then tried to sleep. I woke up uncomfortable at 1 but managed to sleep again.
Thanks for reading!
