We spent last weekend in New Orleans. Id been invited to be on a panel about recipe development at a lovely conference, and we wove that together with a baby-free mini-vacation for our anniversary weekend. Wed only been to New Orleans once before, just a couple months before our wedding in 2005, not realizing how strongly wed feel connected to the city when our wedding and Hurricane Katrina fell on the same date. Meanwhile, we managed to miss another hurricane and her damages entirely back home. Were lucky people.
When we go away, we always have great plans to walk everywhere and eat freely, hoping to strike a balance. However, that arrangement works out a little better in a city that doesnt have the still air and intense heat of a preheated oven summer there is no joke! So, we walked slowly and ate immensely. I wanted to tell you about all of it the tomato salad with battered Vidalia chips! the boudin! the po boys! but when I typed it all together, it was a terrifying thing to behold. I couldnt even own up to it on a weblog that extols good eating. [Hint: I had at least four dishes smothered in gravy. In three nights!] But I will tell you about the brunch platter that nearly did me in, and had it, it would have been a fine, fine way to go; eggs, grits, fried green tomatoes, bacon, a giant warm biscuit and the owners own peach butter made to slather upon it. Youre going to have to roll me home from New Orleans! I told my husband, after which we vowed to find healthier fare on our final day (but still ended up with a beignet breakfast, muffaletta lunch and then pralines boxed up as gifts. New Orleans is snickering at me right now, I know it is.)
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