Regional Fare

What’s for supper?

It’s Monday. It’s New Orleans.  Red beans and rice!

According to notes in a half-century old cookbook the tradition comes from a pot of red beans put on to simmer all day while the housewife went about doing laundry on Monday.

Sampling the local favorites in this city is a delicious way to progress through the week. Tuesday a treat appears at lunchtime. One of our number hunted up a seafood shack favored by locals and gives us a choice of fried catfish or a crab cake. Yummmmm!

Gumbo anyone? Seconds? The camp cook makes one with just enough heat to be Cajun and mild enough for visiting Northern palates.

Oysters! I’ll take mine cooked, thank you. Charbroiled? Yes, that’s cooked. Delicious with spices and Parmesan cheese. Ohhhh! Almost burned the mouth on the first one. Sip on the frozen local beverage of choice to quench the fire. Or take a bite of fresh French bread.

Shrimp! Grilled with Cajun bar-b-que (or something of that sort) so good that with the conversation and another local beverage the entire platter shrinks to tails and broken shells. Others at the table eat crab, turtle soup, and Jambalaya.

It’s our final evening. We eat, laugh, tease our lone teen when she passes on turtle, oysters, and other fare she considers exotic. (My opinion – I could get a turkey club at home.)

Pedestrians move along Bourbon Street in intermittent rain. The wedding procession with bridal party, band, and guest waving white handkerchiefs is long gone. Elvis is out there somewhere. Also a young man dressed and painted all in silver. Music seeps out of the clubs as we lesiurely go back to the vans. Costumed women invite customers. Some of the clubs even admit women!

Ah! The food. New Orleans is a city to be tasted!!!

May I have mine grilled?

One response to “Regional Fare

  1. Many more reasons to add NO to my list of must see someday.

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