first up, lunch at commander's palace. ten or 15 years ago many considered this to be the best restaurant in america, but since then the majority of the snooty have moved on.
not me.
remembering that i've never eaten at the french laundry, i consider this to be the best restaurant in the western hemisphere (assuming you consider spain to be in the east). not only have i never had a bad meal here, i've always had something at a sitting that made me wince with pleasure as i ate it.
it was a spectacular day in NO, so i opted to sit outside.
after mulling over the menu for at least ten minutes, i chose shrimp and tasso henican as an appetizer
and LA softshell crab as an entree
the waiter had pimped the appetizer as "possibly the best shrimp dish ever created." i don't know if he's right, but it is the best thing i've ever tasted with shrimp in it ... the glassy sauce is hot and sweet, at a perfect balance ... and with the super hardcore nod to LA, it uses crystal (the preferred hot sauce here) instead of tabasco.
the crab was very good, although the shell was just a little deep into the season -- by just a few days ... it should have a smooth and quick bite -- maybe something like a thick and wet potato chip -- and this was just a tad more crunchy than that ... the flavor was spectacular.
all of them were good with the black eyed pea being commit-a-felony-for-it incredible. my accomplice doesn't like heavy seafood tastes and i was offered up most of the gumbo. it was rich and thick stick-it-to-your-ribs. THE great thing about good LA food is you can actually taste the history in it -- it's not something designed to slap you on the face and call you daddy (in the way, say, a steamed cheeseburger does), but rather it sits with you and tells a long story -- like a good friend you haven't seen in far too long. no spice on first or second taste, but a long, slow, back of the tongue burn a minute or so later.
for dessert i had the house specialty, bread pudding souffle with whiskey and cream sauce. three words: in cred ible.
my accomplice had pecan pie and it was absolutely as good as pecan pie gets, which is to say, not very good (even our server hates pecan pie).
the only down-side of the meal was a full-on attack by a large swarm of flies with red eyes the size of golfballs when the seafood hit the table (my accomplice had black pepper shrimp). they were so ravenous that we were forced to retreat further back in the patio. the hyper attentive staff went into paroxysms of apologies, but as i explained to them, "when i'm offered indoors or patio, i know it's a calculated risk."
including tip, the meal was a cool $90. and so very worth it.
stepped into the cemetery across the street, snapped this pic (five minutes after close)
unfortunately it was being renovated (one of the very few downsides of traveling in the shoulder season is stuff like this happens sometimes), so we walked around the perimeter ...
... and then went to the botanic garden across the street.
this isn't a label-everything-in-latin-and-write-cards-you-never-read-so-you'll-feel-bad kind of botanic garden. it's just a pretty place ...
then it was off to the bayou savage national wildlife refuge -- within the boundaries of N.O., it's the largest urban wildlife refuge in the US. immediately you're struck by how remote it feels (even though this shot was taken within 50 yards of a US highway).
lots of hurricane damage still in evidence, not only in homes an buildings around the area, but with hardwoods such as these:
still, beauty is where you find it -- just look at the pic of the day ... as are gators ...
(this shot with digital zoom)
evening draws close, but neither of us are too hungry so we opt for verti marte leftovers from last night and some ice cream from the legendary angelo brocato's.
i chose strawberry ice and zuppa iglese (rum and cream with chocolate chips -- which tasted more like egg nog).
spec. tac. u. lar.
when i'm in N.O., i'm traveling on my stomach. which is to say, my traveling is always growing.
i'm sorry your day wasn't as good as mine ... no matter how good yours was.
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