It’s always been a great place to take pictures, and yesterday was no exception. No doom-and-gloom moody cemetery shots this year; it was a bright, clear day, the sun strong so that the marble structures seem to glow. I was struck more by the shapes and color rather than individual details and that’s what most of the photos below depict. The light was so bright coming off the marble the camera has to “squint,” the sky is underexposed and dark so that the marble isn’t completely washed out.

While the big Voodoo fest (not so much the Afro-Caribbean religion, but music) was going on in City Park, someone started a staged a voodoo ceremony at Marie Laveau’s alleged tomb as I was getting ready to leave. It’s the last picture in the set. I was told it was being filmed as a promo for groups offering destination weddings for goth types: “Vampire Weddings” and “Voodoo Weddings.” I thought the Haunted History tours were enough of all that. Oy. Isn’t New Orleans interesting enough without having to make stuff up? But, as the Yat Pundit said, “I‘m always amazed at the things that make a buck in this town.” So it’s a good thing, right?

Tales of the Cocktail 2009 is now over. From the opening ceremony Wednesday, July 8 (celebrating the 75th anniversary of NOLA’s own Herbsaint), to the Wormwood Society’s grand soirée closing things out on Sunday night, it was a whirlwind of boozing, networking and learning.

Tales of the Cocktail’s official cocktail, the Creole Julep, on the bar at Cure.

I went to last year’s Tales (my first) because I had been assigned to write a feature on absinthe and its return to the market in general and to New Orleans in particular. Alright, not so much assigned to write it as having the editors accept my suggestion that absinthe would be a great topic.

2007 was the year the first genuine absinthe, made with grand wormwood, Lucid, was cleared for sale in the U.S. I learned later that there was plenty of absinthe to go around in New Orleans, if you knew who to talk to, but that’s another story. Some friends of mine began drinking it after they discovered Acquistapace’s Covington Supermarket was carrying it in November of 2007. That was my first exposure to the spirit. By July 2008, when Tales took place, there were eight or so brands available legally here. During Tales of the Cocktail 2009; 55 or so are now available, with more in the approval pipeline.

T. A. Breaux, absinthe pioneer, creator of Lucid and distiller of the Jade line of premium absinthes.

The first day at Tales, I ran into T. A. Breaux, the guy who really pushed and did a lot of the leg work in getting absinthe back (legally) into the U. S. I snapped his picture with my phone, (excuse the quality) and didn’t realise I would be running into him (and luckily, it turned out, his products) quite often in the next few days.

A New Orleans native, and chemist by trade, Breaux analysed vintage, pre-ban absinthes, and discovered that these well-crafted spirits contained less the maximum amount of the chemical that caused absinthe to be banned in the first place—thujone—than was permitted by U. S. law. He went on to reverse-engineer absinthes he had chemically analysed, eventually coming up with the Jade line of premium absinthes, and Lucid, an absinthe made the old-fashioned way with more readily available ingredients that’s crafted and priced for more of a mass market.

I’m a real big fan of his Jade Nouvelle-Orléans, having sampled it earlier this year (it was approved for sale late October, 2008). In tasting, it was lighter and more complex than the other brands I had tasted up to that point; but with more layers of flavors that developed as it lingered in my mouth.

Best souvenir ever—bottle of Jade Nouvelle-Orléans signed
by maker T. A. Breaux.

The name, Nouvelle-Orléans, held great appeal for me, as did Breaux’s story behind its creation. He explained while the other Jades are his re-creations of vintage absinthe brands, Nouvelle-Orléans is completely his own recipe, wanting to make a testament to the early days of absinthe in New Orleans, when it was taken as a medicinal drink. If you want to see how its made, the show Modern Marvels on the History Channel featured a segment of Breaux producing a batch of Nouvelle-Orléans at the Combier distillery in Saumur, France. Here’s a YouTube video of the episode.

Back to Tales of the Cocktail. One of the things I had signed up for was the Green Hour, and it appeared to be a seminar-type event. I was wrong. It was a festival celebrating the flood of absinthe that’s come into the country since last year. Just about every manufacturer/importer was set up in the place, pouring generous samples of brands I had read about and wanted to try but would never be able to afford to taste all in one, maybe two, years. (Absinthe is an expensive habit, look to pay at least $50 for a bottle of one of the decent brands, and higher for premium absinthe, like Nouvelle-Orléans (around $110/bottle)). Not only were some European-made brands newly approved for sale in the U. S. represented, there were also some sampled that are now domestically produced.

Breaux was serving Nouvelle-Orléans, a real treat; Gwydion Stone, founder of the Wormwood Society, was pouring Marteau, an absinthe produced to his specifications in Switzerland as of last year’s Tales, but is now produced by him personally at a Portland, Oregon distillery.

Gwydion Stone at the Green Hour event.

New brands that were on my “too try” list that were being served included Vieux Carre (U. S. produced; another winner on name alone, a solid, if a little minty, product); La Clandestine (a clear Swiss absinthe with a great story behind it at their site; it’s tied for second place with Marteau as my new faves behind Nouvelle-Orléans), La Fée Absinthe Parisienne (not a fave); Duplais, Vieux Pontalier and Mansinthe, all products of distributed by Tempus Fugit Spirits (first two very nice; Mansinthe, o.k.); Pacifique (another domestically-produced winner) rounded out the first evening of absinthe, absinthe and more absinthe. Update: Pacifique is distributed by Tempus Fugit Spirits as well.

It wasn’t over. The next day, Breaux was serving up his verison of the absinthe frappe, made with Nouvelle-Orléans and a splash of ginger beer in one of the open tasting rooms. La Clandestine and Lucid (all three brands are distributed by Viridian Spirits, who hosted the event) also were sampled.

Finally, the Wormwood Society Grande Soiree d’Absinthe on Sunday, the last day of Tales. Many of the same players were present. It was upstairs at Muriel’s on Jackson Square. Again, several brands were tasted; some I had not seen before (notably St. George, which was getting a lot of buzz).

Absinthe lined up at the Wormwood Society Grande Soiree d’Absinthe.

Good food (boiled shrimp, raw oysters and creole jambalaya) and great company. It was great seeing veryone who helped with my research last year—Breaux, Stone, the gang from La Maison d’Absinthe: Cary Bonnecaze, store manager Amanda, Ray Bordelon and his brother B. J.; absinthe photographer Damian Hevia—as well as a bunch of people I had met on Twitter (@Fac104, @LunaNola and @laurabergerol) were all there.

Can’t wait until next year.

So a while back, while researching the Roosevelt Hotel’s opening, I couldn’t help noticing all the references to the Ramos Gin Fizz, along with the Sazerac (at the Sazerac Bar) it’s the hotel’s signature drink. The Ramos Gin Fizz was the favorite drink of Governor Huey Long, famous rogue politician who, they say, built Airline Highway so he would have a straight shot from the capital at Baton Rouge to the front door of the Roosevelt. Huey gained fame in the cocktail world by bringing the Roosevelt’s bartender with him when he visited New York City, to show those big city boys how to properly mix the drink.

If you’re not familiar with the Ramos Gin Fizz, it’s kind of an oddball cocktail for modern times, recipes call for the white of one egg. It’s other characteristic is a few drops of orange flower water, another obscure flavoring agent. Gin, of course, sugar or simple syrup and cream and/or milk round out the ingredients.  It’s shaken vigorously, some say for 10 minutes, to a frothy consistancy, most recipes call for a splash of soda water or seltzer. Some recipes call for vanilla, in fact, I read somewhere that it’s the vanilla (see update, below) that makes a Ramos Gin Fizz different from a plain-old gin fizz. Prior to Ramos, the egg white version of the gin fizz was known as a Silver Fizz; one with an egg yolk was called a Golden Fizz.

So what’s the mystery? The mystery is that I looked at the Wiki for the gin fizz, which, as the Wiki is wont to do, contains some shaky information. It said Henry Ramos invented the Ramos Gin Fizz in 1888. It also said the first written reference to the gin fizz was in the 1886 edition of Jerry Thomas’ bartender’s book and that, back in the day, “fizz” was spelled “fiz,” with one “z”.

Trying to track down another idea (I don’t remember what now) I came across Lafcadio Hearn’s La Cuisine Creole, one of the earliest cookbooks dedicated to New Orleans cookery. The 1901 second edition is online in Googlebooks, there are some drink recipes in the back. Sure enough, with one “z,” is a recipe for a Gin Fiz that’s quite similar to the modern gin fizz, Ramos or otherwise.

So, I knew from a prior exhibit that the Historic New Orleans Collection had a first edition, from 1885, of the Hearn book. If that recipe was in there, the Wiki was wrong and the first written documentation of the gin fizz was not in the Thomas book in 1886 but in Hearn’s 1885 book. I headed to the Collection to find out. They pulled the 1885 book, I flipped to the back, and there it was, a recipe for a Gin Fizz, yes, fizz with  TWO “Zs!”

My next quest was to track down earlier versions of the Thomas book. The Collection didn’t have any. Liz Williams, director of the Southern Food and Beverage Museum and the Museum of the American Cocktail, said they didn’t have any either, but was kind enough to give me the names of some experts (author/historian Ted Haigh and local bar chef/collector Chris McMillian) to contact.

How does Tales of the Cocktail fit in? I had put my research on hold, hoping to talk to some of the historians and authors coming to the event. At the book area in the lobby I picked up a copy of David Wondrich’s book Imbibe!, located gin fizz in the index, turned to the page, and was devastated. He says the Silver Fizz was discussed in the Chicago Tribune in 1883, blowing my Hearn-as-first-documenting-the-gin-fizz theory out of the water. But there’s still the question of the “z’s”–one or two and when did it change? Wondrich is wandering around Tales; I’ll accost him at the first opportunity and find out.

Meanwhile, here’s my recipe. I fooled around with one I found on the internet and added some non-traditional, but NOLA elements–absinthe and Peychaud’s bitters. It’s called “The Ender” after an artist that was helping with a new project.

Use a shot glass for a measure

½ shot glass lemon & lime juice mixture (about a ¼ of a lemon and 1/3 of a lime)

12 drops orange flower water*

4 or 5 shakes Regan’s Orange Bitters

2 shakes Peychaud (do NOT use more—better to skip than use more)

3 or 4 drops vanilla

1 teaspoon simple syrup (or use sugar)

1 shot egg white (I used pasteurized whites that come in a carton)

3 shots 2% milk

1 shot gin

½ shot absinthe

Put in shaker without ice. Shake for a minute or two to get things frothy. Add ice—I used 4 regular ice tray cubes, try 4 of what your freezer makes or a half or ¾ cup crushed ice. Shake for a few minutes more until the ice mostly melts and you can hear it getting frothier.

Strain and pour and be amazed. Should be cold enough you won’t need ice in glass.

* A lot more than most recipes call for. I think the absinthe offsets it.

Update: Now that things are returning to normal I’ve had some time to spend with Wondrich’s book, the full title of which is Imbibe!: From Absinthe Cocktail to Whiskey Smash, a Salute in Stories and Drinks to “Professor” Jerry Thomas, Pioneer of the American Bar.

Wondrich notes that Ramos’ innovation was his addition of cream to the basic Silver Fizz recipe and says that although either egg white or cream may be made frothy quite easily, mixing the two makes neither want to form a foam. Thus the urban-legend quality of reports that Ramos had his “shaker boys” shake the concoction for up to 15 minutes at a time. There’s also no vanilla in the recipe Ramos gave the local paper that Wondrich reproduced.

I’ve found, as someone somewhere else on the internets stated (I’d give credit if I could remember), that shaking for the amount of time it takes for the commercial break to be over on the TV should be sufficient.

Wondrich was signing books at Tales on Thursday, I had him sign mine and gave him a brief run down of my quest. I forgot to ask him what, exactly, is up with the “z”s. Updates as new info is gathered.

Literary greats have haunted its halls for decades. Tennessee Williams was a frequent guest, Truman Capote often quipped that he was born in the Monteleone (his mother was living there at the time, the hotel staff got her to Touro Infirmary where he was actually born). Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, Eudora Welty, Winston Groom, Richard Ford and Rebecca Wells have all been guests as well. Hemingway, Williams and Capote were known to do their share of writing while sitting in the Carousel Bar.

An Old Fashioned going for a spin at the Carousel Bar.

There once was a cocktail called the Monteleone, its recipe lost in time. To celebrate the bar’s 60th anniversary, the hotel held a contest for folks to come up with a recipe for a new version. The winning contestant would receive a free 4-night stay for Tales of the Cocktail.

Final judging was held May 22. The top 5 cocktails were judged by four of the chefs from season five of the Bravo network’s  Top Chef reality TV show. Mr. and Mrs. Cocktail (Paul and Ann Tuennerman) MC’d as show winner Hosea Rosenberg and chefs Jamie Lauren, Leah Cohen and Jeff McInnis tasted the entries.

Mr. & Mrs. Cocktail with Top Chef winner Hosea.

Top Chefs Jamie, Leah, Hosea & Jeff give each other a toast as the judging begins.

It was a great time, with champagne served to all the visitors, who got to sample the entries as well. Nolanotes dropped by, as did Blackened Out, a NOLA foodie blogger who had submitted his own cocktail to the contest, which, alas, was not a finalist. After the judging, we retired to the Carousel Bar ourselves to do a little judging of our own of a couple of rounds of Ramos Gin Fizzes. Then to the Greek Fest later that evening, but that’s another post (from last year).

Brian Robinson of Arlington, Virgina’s concoction was the winner. Here is the winning recipe (courtesy the Hotel Monteleone):

Monteleone Cocktail

2 oz Rye Wiskey
1 ½ oz St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur
½ oz Domaine De Canton Ginger Liqueur
2 dashes Fee Brothers Orange Bitters
Splash Ginger Ale

Shake ingredients and strain into a julep cup or cocktail glass with crushed ice. Garnish with orange slice.

Tom would have say whether all of that still stands today, since although Antoine’s is going strong, Maylie’s has been closed for years now (the also-defunct Smith & Wollensky last occupied Maylie’s site) and the Bud’s Broiler on City Park Avenue has been closed since Katrina.

The original location of the Bud’s Broiler chain, the City Park restaurant first opened in 1952. I’m not a great repository for the rest of Bud’s history, but they do have a website, www.budsbroiler.com, that has the history and menu, etc.

It re-opened yesterday, April 20, to much fanfare and long lines. The new owners have been working hard on getting the location up and running for a few months now. All their work paid off, it’s clean, freshly painted and cranking out burgers cooked over real charcoal as fast as people can order them.

Well-wishers included the old-line New Orleans white-tablecloth restaurant Tujaque’s, who sent these flowers:

I got a No. 4 with some cheese fries. (Sorry, I always forget to take pictures until I’ve already started eating).

I’m guessing these were the original bathroom doors, they crack me up.

What’s your menu item number? Do you have any Bud’s trivia to add? Did you go opening day? What are your memories of Bud’s on City Park?

The bar’s grand opening was Friday, coinciding with the opening day of French Quarter Fest. I hadn’t heard anything about the bar, or the grand opening. What was great, and an “only in NOLA” moment, was that as I was leaving the festival and heading back to my car at Burgundy and Conti, I chose a fortuitous route up St. Louis St. There was a big crowd on the street in front of Antoine’s; everyone had champagne glasses and waiters were running around in the street with platters of soufflé potatoes and fried oysters and bottles of champagne.

After grabbing a potato from the platter pictured above (which had been piled high seconds before, it was like those films of piranhas stripping a capybara down to the bones in the Amazon), I asked the waiter what all the hubbub was. He explained it was the opening of the bar, Antoine’s is the oldest family restaurant, yada, yada, I stopped him, thanked him, told him I was a native and moved on inside.

There’s a fair selection of absinthe and a proper fountain, ready for dripping. I hope they don’t do the fire thing when they serve it. I would have ordered one, but, hey, the champagne was free.

It was just a super event to stumble upon and made the day absolutely perfect. The bar opens out onto the street and I hope they maintain an atmosphere like I found on Friday; a mix of elegantly dressed patrons happily mingling shoulder-to-shoulder with the casually dressed masses.

They’ll be serving a selection of appetizers and soups from the restaurant, including an Oysters Foch poboy. If you’re not familiar with Oysters Foch, it’s a dish normally consisting of a piece of toast, smeared with pâté de foie gras and topped with fried oysters and Colbert sauce. Reflecting the restaurant’s 150-plus year history, the dish is named in honor of France’s Field Marshal Foch; the pâté on the toast represents mud on his soldier’s shoes, the Colbert sauce their spilled blood. Dishes somehow just don’t seem to get that amount of inspiration anymore. The bar serves its version as a French bread po-boy, the only variation from the classic dish being it’s “dressed” with lettuce in addition to the pâté and sauce.

Ain’t New Orleans grand?

Mr. Francis has dedicated himself to preserving two big traditions from African-American New Orleans: the Mardi Gras Indians and the Second Line. I talked to him a little while when I dropped in last week. We were talking about how the Mardi Gras Indian tradition got started. He said the traditional explanation was that a Buffalo Bill Wild West show came to New Orleans, a spectacular featuring hundreds of cowboys and Indians, and the African Americans were inspired to mask as Indians. Not so. “It comes from the black man wanting to do his own thing, something on Carnival other than pulling floats and carrying lights.”

He let me take some photos inside, above is a sample. Most of those costumes were given to the museum by Big Chief Victor Harris of the Mandigo Warriors and Spirit of Fi-Yi-Yi and Fi-Yi-Yi.

I told him I’d never seen an Indian on Mardi Gras day. He told me to come back on Carnival. The Indians all stop by around 12:30.

So, for the first time in a long while, I went downtown for Carnival. Nolanotes joined me, she wrote a post about the whole thing today that’s more than I could have come up with. Here are some more pictures from today: Indians, costumed passers-by and a walking club called the Northside Skull Gang. Pretty scary get-ups, but as Nola notes, everyone was super friendly.

The Skulls were leading a gospel tribute to Antoinette K-Doe, who died Mardi Gras day.

All in all, it was a great Carnival season, thanks to Nola and family’s hospitality and the company of some bloggers–Daisy Duke, in from Chicago, Stacey, Lisa (from Pennsylvania), Katie and Loulou, who came all the way from France to enjoy Mardi Gras.

It is unique among all Mardi Gras parades in the city because it alone carries on the old traditions of Carnival celebrations, by using decorated mule-drawn floats with satirical themes, accompanied by costumed revelers dancing in the streets to the sounds of jazzy street musicians.

Unlike last year, where temperatures were in low 30′s, the weather was rather pleasant this year. I went wandering around before the parade kicked off. Down to the newly-renovated French Market. Unfortunately, it’s not so much a farmer’s produce market, it looks more, like Master Shake once said, “like a flea market threw up in here.” Because it is a flea market now. With stuff like this:

Because we know nothing says “New Orleans” like
gator heads, beads and Bourbon Street signs.

Moving on: Back at Royal and Gov. Nichols for the parade, I was well-armed. Camera. Absinthe. Rye. Peychaud’s. Everything needed for a batch of Sazeracs. We were invited to watch the parade from my sister’s landlord’s balcony, and didn’t hesitate to accept the hospitable perch. Nola noted we might not get some of the goodies that are handed out by marchers, and we would miss out on some of the up-close raunchiness. But the photo ops were great, and many beads were nonetheless scored.

This year’s theme was “Krewe du Vieux’s Stimulus Package.”

The guy in the back”s costume says, “I got your stimulus
package right here,” with an arrow pointing to his crotch.

The parade ended and the crowd moved down Royal.

]]> http://www.mybigeasylife.com/archives/2009/02/08/krewe-du-vieux-2009/feed/ 4 http://www.mybigeasylife.com/archives/2009/01/21/less-subway-more-parkway/ http://www.mybigeasylife.com/archives/2009/01/21/less-subway-more-parkway/#comments Thu, 22 Jan 2009 00:18:15 +0000 Pete http://www.mybigeasylife.com/?p=533 I let loose my New Year’s resolution a couple of weeks ago: To eat better in 2009. Better steaks, better shrimp, better meals all around. One wag, Yat Pundit, echoed the theme with “less Subway, more Parkway!” Yeah, you rite!

That reminded me of a glaring omission in my life. I’ve yet to have a roast beef poboy (or any other) from Parkway Bakery & Tavern, a poboy institution that’s on everyone’s short list for best poboys in town. So, while out and about hunting streetcars with Nolanotes, CS and Sun last Sunday, we decided to go there for lunch.

It’s in the heart of Mid City at the corner of Hagan and Toulouse streets, on the Uptown river side of Bayou St. John a block or two from Orleans Avenue.

So here’s the sandwich. Let’s get it out of the way, because it’s not necessarily the only reason one would want to visit Parkway. Good, super-sloppy roast beef that’s edged its way into the top 5 pantheon of roast beef poboys.  Very similar to Parran’s, in case you’re wondering.

No, there are other reasons to visit Parkway. It’s got what appears to be a pretty decent bar area, and there’s lots of seating, covered and open, outside. But the main, must-see character of Parkway lies in the gobs of New Orleans memorabilia (NewOrleaniana, to coin a term?)

Here’s the order window. To the right (not in the picture) are a Pontchartrain Beach poster and copies of the New Orleans Item (a defunct daily newspaper), one announcing the start of World War II and another its end; WAR and PEACE proclaimed in 10-inch tall headlines side-by-side).

There’s a little touch of Elvis there at the window and there’s more Elvis to come. Although there’s nothing specifically connecting Elvis and New Orleans; when you think about it, NOLA is a most Elvis kind of town, though.

A close up by the window shows some cool NOLA stuff—signs from the original Zephyr roller coaster and a promotional placard for Morgus the Magnificent. An old K&B bag (that’s Katz and Besthoff, to you, buddy) and an old Schwegmann’s bag, the kind we used to cover our books with, flank the Woolworth’s Luncheonette sign, once a landmark of Canal Street, known to ‘da yats as “‘da Woolswoits.”

More Elvis, this TP front page announcing Dead Elvis (as opposed to Comeback Elvis).

This is kind of obscure, a campaign poster for Hale Boggs, the U.S. House of Representatives Majority Leader (and member of the Warren Commission) from New Orleans. Boggs was presumed dead when his plane went missing in Alaska in October of 1972. Although missing, he was not yet declared dead and was re-elected in November of 1972. I can’t tell if that was the election year this poster was created for, but that’s some interesting trivia. (More trivia—Alaska congressman Nick Begich was also on the plane with Boggs, his son, Mark, was just elected senator from Alaska, de-throning Mr. Intertubez felon Ted Stevens.)

There’s also a concert poster from the Rolling Stones May, 1981 appearance at the Louisiana Superdome. I was there, by the way; George Thorogood and the Destroyers opened up, if I remember correctly.

Here’s the best piece of NewOrleaniana in the whole joint—a genuine Aints bag from the dismal 1980 season, when the Saints were 1-15-0. It’s customized for wearing over one’s head, rather than risk being identified as a Saints fan at the Dome, in case you don’t remember those days.

Update: I stand fully corrected. As reader Brad points out: “Nothing connecting Elvis and New Orleans??? What about King Creole? My neighbor when I was a kid used to tell stories about how her mother worked on the production and got to have an audience with the King.”

Maybe the correct statement would have been “nothing my dumb, non-Elvis fan ass would know about.”

I guess I hadn’t paid much attention to it after I had copied it. Reading it now, it strikes me that they sure knew how to write an obit back then. I knew very little about him, as I had concentrated my research only on my direct line of ancestors on my father’s side.  But I learned a few things, and hope someone writes as well about me when the time comes.

The deceased at the time of his death was 65 years and 8 months old, and had been a resident of the city of New Orleans for over half a century. Born in the city of Paris, France, the deceased came to the Crescent City when quite a youth and soon entered the cotton business.
…

In all his business associations, the deceased was proven to be a man of the strictest commercial integrity, and as his experiences were grounded on close personal relations at home and abroad, it is not surprising that his work was always marked by gratifying  conclusions.

He was living at 1726 Carondolet at the time. Looking at the Google street view, that address is now a parking lot at the downtown riverside corner of Polymnia, surrounded by empty lots and abandoned buildings, your basic Central City shithole of an area.

That’s too bad; for he must have had a fine home. The obit notes:

The deceased’s home existence was particularly delightful. Himself a man of high artistic tastes, the deceased surrounded himself with all those elements that render domestic living additionally charming. Mr. _____ came from a distinguished ancestry, one of his uncles being a gallant soldier, a colonel in the French army, who died on the field of battle, and another an artist of note, whose works have frequently adorned the walls of the Louvre.

Some of the above information is incorrect. His father (my great-great-great grandfather), not his uncle—although there may have been an uncle in the military as well, there were many siblings—was a colonel in the French Army. He died not on the field of battle, but in Piraeus, Greece, of typhus en route to the Crimea in 1855.  There was an uncle, Amedee _____ who was an artist. Whether his work hung in the Louvre or not I don’t know, it’s quite possible. We do know some of his work is in the collection at Versailles, though, and we own a portrait he painted of who we believe to be either my great-great or great-great-great grandfather, in complete military regalia.

Which brings us to the title of today’s post. As if all of this very complimentery prose was not enough, the obituary writer added:

The deceased was personally a gentleman of the most charming character. He had all of the savoir faire of the old school about him, and was highly thought of socially.

Which leads me to a difficult conclusion. I’m going to have to write my own obituary, and adopt a lot of my great-great grand uncle Paul’s. Either that, or write something along the lines of Royal Tenenbaum’s fictional eptitaph:

Died Tragically Rescuing His Family From The Remains Of A Destroyed Sinking Battleship.

Any suggestions?

“On my honor I will do my best: To do my duty to God and my country…”
Oath, Boy Scouts of America.

“I vow to personally buy the first Sazerac for any visitor who asks ‘Hey, where do I get a Hurricane?’ and pledge to pull out the Herbsaint and Rye no matter the time of day when a guest indicates they’ve never sipped the historic drink of New Orleans…”
Oath, Sazerac Academy.

It just goes to show there are oaths and then there are oaths. The Boy Scout oath is a heavy-duty thing to put on a kid, but you know, kids grow up. They don’t always hang on to the ideals that were thrust upon them when young and naive. They pick up bad habits, like smoking and sex and driving too fast and drinking whiskey and cussing.

But bad habits are in the eye of the beholder. Take whiskey drinking. In the right environment (New Orleans), whiskey drinking can be downright educational, and, if you believe the wisdom of our Creole forefathers, medicinal.

Quote of the day:

There is no way to fit more molecules of alcohol into a cocktail than a Sazerac. -Eben Klemm.

Ann Tuennerman is the driving force behind the New Orleans Culinary & Cultural Preservation Society. Its mission: “to preserve the rich history of the restaurants and bars of New Orleans and the unique culture of dining and drinking famous to the city, while educating locals, visitors, and the hospitality industry about this culinary heritage.” It also produces Tales of the Cocktail, the annual culinary and cocktail festival held each summer here in New Orleans.  (Previous posts on Tales here, here, here and here).

The Society hosts other events during the year, notably today’s topic, the Sazerac Academy. Held periodically through the year, the Sazerac Academy is an educational tasting event, where one can learn all about the official cocktail of New Orleans, the Sazerac. Sparse ingredients—Peychaud’s Bitters, rye whiskey, Herbsaint (or absinthe, now it’s available, but officially, it’s Herbsaint) and sugar—are it.

I was lucky enough to be invited the last Sazerac Academy of the year, which was held at the historic Napoleon House. We learned why the Sazerac is sometimes called “history in a glass.” Indeed, there is a lot to the history of of the Sazerac that parallels the history of New Orleans itself. The drink is, after all, the official cocktail of New Orleans, an appellation gained through the efforts of Ann Tuennerman and a couple of New Orleans area legislators. Ann explained what should have been an easy process was delayed in the face of major opposition by, from what I surmise,  lawmakers from less enlightened parts of the state (i.e., most of the state lying north of I-10).

It started with Antoine Peychaud, a French colonial from St. Domingue (now Haiti) who arrived in New Orleans after the slave revolt and subsequent Creole diaspora in the early 1800′s. A planter and a pharmacist, Peychaud’s family concocted a recipe for bitters—various plant extracts infused in alcohol—there were lots of bitters going around back then, we learned. Peychaud set up shop on Royal Street in the building that is now James H. Cohen and Sons rare coin and collectible shop between Conti and St. Louis. That fact blew me away; I always thought Peychaud’s business was located on Chartres where the Pharmacy Museum is located today.

Peychaud dispensed his bitters as medicine, mixing them with Cognac in a little egg cup, or coquetier. The coquetier looks a little like a modern two-sided jigger and is said to be the source of the word cocktail. But, we learned, that may just be legend, as references to cocktails have been found in newspapers from before Peychaud began his establishment.

Sazerac-de-Forge et fils was the brand name of the Cognac Peychaud used to serve his bitters with. Eventually it became the name of the bitters/brandy concoction itself, which then was passed on as the name of subsequent coffee houses (saloons) where it was served, and then on to the most famous of all, the Sazerac Bar at the Roosevelt Hotel.

Changes in the Sazerac reflected changes in New Orleans. Its days as a predominately French city were coming to an end by the 1850′s as more and more Americans flocked to the city. It was then that a string of American businessmen began controlling the Sazerac, finally Americanizing the drink when, in 1872, Thomas Handy  substituted rye whiskey for Cognac as the drink’s base spirit. He also began adding small amount of absinthe to the drink’s recipe.

More history: absinthe was banned in 1912 and then all alcohol was banned in 1920. When prohibition was lifted, J.M. Legendre immediately began producing Legendre Absinthe in New Orleans. Two months later the Feds came in and put a stop to Legendre’s absinthe. Their complaint? First, it did not contain wormwood, so it wasn’t absinthe. Second, absinthe was illegal, so he couldn’t sell it as absinthe. Legendre re-labeled his spirit Legendre Herbsaint. Like absinthe, Herbsaint’s predominate flavor is anise; it became the accepted substitute for absinthe in making Sazeracs after prohibition. (Legendre promoted the hell out of Herbsaint, producing some classic advertisements. Collector Jay Hendrickson has many images online here.)

The Sazerac Company is a one-stop corporate source for everything you need to make the official cocktail of New Orleans. It now makes Peychaud’s Bitters using the same recipe as Antoine Peychaud; it produces Herbsaint and a great rye whiskey, too.

After all this history was presented by Ann and Michael (whose last name I didn’t catch, but he’s the head bartender at the Swizzle Stick Bar) [Glassberg-thanks, Mr. Cocktail], Michael proceeded to demonstrate the proper technique for making a Sazerac. We swore our oaths as newly-minted Sazeractivists, then got to making our own cocktails.

It was 11:00 a.m. I had to drive back to work. I could only take a few sips. I was sad.

Here’s the official recipe. As with many culinary masterpieces, the secret lies in the preparation as much as in the ingredients themselves, so pay heed to the instructions below.

The Official Sazerac Cocktail

1 cube sugar
1½ ounces (35ml) Sazerac 18 Year Old Rye Whiskey or Buffalo Trace Bourbon
¼ ounce Herbsaint
3 dashes Peychaud’s Bitters
Lemon peel

1. Pack an Old-Fashioned glass with ice
2. In a second Old-Fashioned glass place the sugar cube and add the Peychaud’s Bitters to it, then crush the sugar cube.
3. Add the Sazerac Rye Whiskey or Buffalo Trace Bourbon to the second glass containing the Peychaud’s Bitters and sugar.
4. Empty the ice from the first glass and coat the glass with the Herbsaint, then discard the remaining Herbsaint.
5. Empty the whiskey/bitters/sugar mixture from the second glass into the first glass and garnish with lemon peel.

A final quote, on the nature of the Sazerac and why it indeed is, and has always been, spiritually the official cocktail of New Orleans.

If any cocktail can conjure up the image of New Orleans, it is the Sazerac; made with whiskey for its strength, absinthe for its fanciful nature, bitters for its joie de vivre and sugar for its sweet hospitality. -Debra Argen

TALES OF THE COCKTAIL OPENING RECEPTION TO BE HELD AT THE NEWLY RESTORED ROOSEVELT HOTEL
TOAST OF THE EVENING TO OCCUR AT THE ORIGINAL SAZERAC BAR

NEW ORLEANS, LA—December 1, 2008 – Tales of the Cocktail, a cocktail and culinary festival celebrating the history and culture of dining and the cocktail in New Orleans, has chosen The Roosevelt New Orleans as the site of the July 8, 2009, opening-night reception for its seventh anniversary event.

Tales of the Cocktail runs through July 12, 2009.

The historic downtown New Orleans property, a Waldorf=Astoria Collection property shuttered since Hurricane Katrina in 2005, opened in 1893 as the Grunewald. In 1923, it was rebranded The Roosevelt in honor of President Theodore Roosevelt and retained its distinctive moniker until the hotel changed hands in 1965 and was renamed The Fairmont. The grand hotel will reopen in late spring 2009, reborn as a Waldorf=Astoria Collection® hotel.

The summer’s most spirited event, Tales of the Cocktail explores the history and contemporary life of the cocktail at various locations in the New Orleans French Quarter. The event welcomes celebrities, mixologists, chefs, authors and cocktail experts as presenters and special guests from around the globe for seminars, dinners and galas.  Top spirits names such as Dale DeGroff, Tony Abou-Ganim, Robert Hess and Kevin Brauch once again will take part in educating industry and consumers alike about the cocktail.

In more than a century of operation, The Roosevelt served as the backdrop for many historic events and often made history in its own right. Key among plans to restore the property to its previous grandeur and appeal will be the reopening of the hotel’s famed Blue Room and legendary Sazerac Bar. In the golden era of supper clubs from the 1930s to the 1960s, the Blue Room played host to some of the best-known names in entertainment and big bands – including Tony Bennett, Louis Armstrong and Sonny and Cher – as well as to elaborate floor shows. The Sazerac Bar, a Roosevelt landmark for decades, again will serve its signature Sazerac cocktail and Ramos Gin Fizz – both invented in New Orleans and made popular worldwide by The Roosevelt – among other delights.

“Hosting our opening night in conjunction with the newly restored Roosevelt is an honor,” said Tales of the Cocktail founder Ann Tuennerman. “Tales of the Cocktail celebrates the history of the cocktail, and what better way to introduce visitors to our city than with the city’s official cocktail, The Sazerac, at the original Sazerac Bar,”

The New Orleans Culinary and Cultural Preservation Society, a non-profit organization dedicated to raising funds to benefit hospitality industry members, produces Tales of the Cocktail annually. Its mission is to preserve the rich history of the restaurants and bars of New Orleans and the unique culture of dining and drinking famous to the city, while educating locals, visitors and the hospitality industry about this culinary heritage.

Tales of the Cocktail, a culinary and cocktail festival, allows the connoisseur or amateur to fully experience (taste, see and learn about) cocktail culture in New Orleans and around the world. The event’s annual components are Spirited Dinners, a Seminar Series, Cocktail Hour, Cocktail Luncheons, walking tours of the French Quarter, and classic and contemporary cocktail parties — all presented by the country’s hottest chefs, authors, bartenders and cocktail experts.

For more information on Tales of the Cocktail, visit the Web site at www.TalesoftheCocktail.com and register to receive email updates, or call 504-948-0511.

The artist I met is named Bernard Mattox. He paints, but most of his career he’s been a sculptor, working in ceramics. Here’s a shot of his studio, where he’s working on his latest painting.

He recommended I go to the Mint to see an installation by an artist who is from Covington, but works in Los Angeles now.

I already planned to go across the lake Saturday for a big meetup with Nolanotes and some other twitter people. It went really well. Leigh brought up Prospect.1 during lunch, and pointed out the maps they had distributed. Here is the map online, it’s a pretty big .pdf, but it has all the information for what’s installed citywide.

So we set out to the Mint. Bunch of artists there, the guy from Covington, Stephen G. Rhodes, had an interesting installation. Here’s the Times-Picayune’s review of it. It’s difficult to describe, pretty large scale, overwhelming almost. You’re inside of it, it’s like the aftermath of a large post-election party in a room full of video screens. Disney’s Hall of Presidents, ghost portraits, torn furniture, popped balloons, it’s wild. There were a lot of coins on the floor, loose change. I decided to take out some pockect change and throw it on the floor, too.

The art is spread out citywide. We followed the map from the Mint to the Lower Ninth, and hunted down two of the installations put in near where the levee broke there.

This one’s called Window and Ladder – Too Late for Help. It’s by Argentine artist Leandro Erlich.

That area’s still pretty barren. There was a refrigerator all busted up and moldy on the street in front of it. Whether it’s been there since August 29, 2005, or not, I don’t know. It could have been, but I somehow doubt, put there on purpose.

It’s the area where Brad Pitt’s Make It Right Foundation is building green homes for residents to return to the area. They’re different than what was in the area before, that’s for sure, but affordable and renewable, incorporating features like solar panels.

Here’s one that was across from another Prospect.1 installation.

The area is still pretty darn bleak, and full of odd sights. This could well have been considered an art installation anywhere else in the world. In New Orleans, it was just a motorcycle on a slab.

Now, I have no doubt that in the city’s nearly 300 year history, with the front of the cathedral being the center of the community all that time, that stranger things have taken place there. Nonetheless, here it is.

Pirates gathered and ready for blood.

The battle was hard fought.

The carnage, horrendous.

But the ninjas were outnumbered. The pirate king delivered the coup de grace.

Pirates celebrate their victory. Arrrrrgh, matey.

Started things off with a Sazerac and a little chicken and andouille gumbo:

Finished with the BBQ shrimp and grits. Pretty good, a nice touch is they peel the center part of the shrimp, leaving the heads and tails attached. Not nearly as messy as having to peel the whole thing.

I collided with one of those “only in New Orleans” moments: a bride, fresh from her vows at the Cathedral, ran into an Elvis impersonator at Cafe du Monde. In this case, that could have happened in Vegas, except I doubt that they have decent beignets in Vegas.

The wedding party was walking into CDM, they had a brass band and second lined it all the way to the cafe. They were making their way in when she turned around just as this random costumed group with the Elvis arrived. Let me tell you, she freaked. She squealed. She jumped up in the air, hugged him and screamed “the King!”

And look at the pile of beignets waiting for them. I haven’t figured out whether that was some sort of substitute or adjunct wedding cake, or whether it was just a big pile of donuts.

FAMED ROOSEVELT HOTEL IN NEW ORLEANS BEING REBORN
AS WALDORF=ASTORIA COLLECTION PROPERTY

NEW ORLEANS – Oct. 9, 2008 – The revered Roosevelt Hotel name – which for nearly a half-century meant the finest luxury accommodations, entertainment and dining, as well as world-famous beverages and celebrities – is returning to New Orleans, reborn as a Waldorf=Astoria Collection® Hotel.

The historic downtown New Orleans property, shuttered since Hurricane Katrina in 2005, originally opened in 1893 as the Grunewald. In 1923, it was rebranded as The Roosevelt in honor of President Theodore Roosevelt and retained its distinctive moniker until the hotel changed hands in 1965 and was renamed The Fairmont.

The grand hotel will reopen in late spring 2009 with 505 rooms, of which 125 will be luxury suites, some named for celebrities who once visited the hotel; signature fine-dining and cocktail venues; an entertainment space guaranteed to rival any other in the Gulf South; state-of-the-art meeting and convention rooms; and a 12,000-square-foot, world-class spa and fitness center.

And the news everyone really wants to know:

Key among plans to restore the property to its previous grandeur and appeal will be the reopening of the hotel’s famed Blue Room and legendary Sazerac Bar.

In the golden era of supper clubs from the 1930s to the 1960s, the Blue Room played host to some of the best-known names in entertainment and big bands – including Tony Bennett, Louis Armstrong and Sonny and Cher – as well as to elaborate floor shows. With gleaming chandeliers and polished architectural details, the reopened Blue Room once again will host live entertainment that appeals to all ages.

The Sazerac Bar, a Roosevelt landmark for decades, again will serve its signature Sazerac cocktail and Ramos Gin Fizz – both invented in New Orleans and made popular worldwide by The Roosevelt – among other delights. In addition to beverages that stimulate the palate, patrons again will be able to enjoy the Art Deco-style murals and woodwork once held in awe by visitors.

We had lots of wind, not so much rain. It gusted up to, I’d say, 50 mph, enough to start peeling the copper roof off of my cousin’s outdoor kitchen area. I did the manly thing, (I’m camped out with my Aunt, a cousin, and her 3 teacher friends) and got a ladder, hammer and nails and secured the roof before it tore off and went into a window.

Today, I drove around to check on our office and my home in Mandeville (both with no damage, but no power). Traffic on Hwy. 190, the main drag into Covington, was sparse. Most of the red lights were without power; some blinking yellow. Amazingly, the drivers that were out and about did an extremely civilized job of both driving under the speed limit and treating the intersections as four-way stops.

Getting back to the house (equipped with generator large enough to handle air conditioning, thank gawd) I was treated to more doom and gloom on TV. Lots thunderstorms were in the area with the dreaded suspicious “hook” echoes that mean there could be a tornado. The Bogue Falaya river behind the house was righteously rising up, swollen by the rain and blocked by a storm-surged lake at its mouth.

All this gave way to a great evening after the thunder cells of doom passed. As I mentioned in the last post, one of the great hurricane traditions is the feast-of-the-food-that-will-go-bad-unless-we-eat-it-now. The neighbors came over with food gathered up from fridges unprotected by generators. Baked salmon and tilapia, chicken alfredo, smoked salmon, various cheeses and veggies were on the menu. I met 10 new people, and made 10 new friends, because I managed not to talk politics or otherwise piss anyone off.

I feel a little guilty. Many people I keep up with on the internet, fellow NOLA bloggers, were forced to leave their homes. Not many had good experiences, between being caught in contra-flow gridlock or seeking safety in places that ultimately were not safe at all, everyone’s going to have some interesting posts in upcoming weeks.

So shout-outs go to NolaNotes, Stacey, Charlotte, HumidCity, Greta, WetBankGuy, LipRap, Wendy, Katie, RDPeyton and everyone else who had to flee; hope you will see home again in days, rather than weeks this time. And hats-off to YatPundit, Ryan, and GentillyGirl and others who intrepidly stayed behind to share on-the-scene updates.

It would be nice if power is restored tomorrow. I’ve had a surreal vacation, and deadlines that were breathing down my neck are extended, but not extinguished. A little normalcy would be nice here. At least we won’t have to spend 4 months getting used to the “new” normal that defined life after Katrina.

The Twitter is all a-twitter; even a reporter from the Chicago Tribune who came down to cover the storm used Twitter to quickly connect with NOLA area sources. He’s written a story (featuring our own NolaNotes) about the use of Twitter by people keeping up with everyone’s preparations; whether they’re staying or evacuating; where they’re going, what they’re taking; and, the status of traffic along the various evacuation routes.

It’s a great topic. I was convinced for a year after I first signed up for Twitter that it was absolutely useless. I’ve seen the light since then, and I’m glad the national media is recognizing how useful the service is in emergency situations. Twitter was put to good use during the recent San Diego wildfires and Los Angeles earthquake, too.

Twitter also lets people vent. Following regular updaters, and their 140-character tweets, since Gustav formed up reveals all the stages of hurricane angst. Tweets have gone from interested concern, while it was south of Haiti, to growing concern as it strengthened past Jamaica, then terror as it exploded to a category four as it approached Cuba.

But along with the concern was a spirit of defiance. We remembered (and tweeted about) a time when approaching storms weren’t that big of a deal. Neighbors and families boarded houses together. There were block parties with cookouts featuring all that meat that was fixing to go bad when the power went out. We made sure each of us had enough candles and flashlights and radios and batteries. But we were not leaving. When the winds passed, we got together and fixed what needed fixing in the neighborhood and kept our collective bravado together.

When Gustav approached, the NOLA bloggers and tweeters talked about not leaving. About getting generators, supplies, making arrangements for friends in flood-prone areas. We wanted to keep up the family/neighborhood traditions. But Category 4 status and forecast models pointing it right to NOLA got the best of us. On Friday, Gov. Jindal gave a very nervous press conference. On Saturday, Nagin did one of his patented freak-outs with his “Mother of all storms” quote. Aaron Broussard, seemingly again on the verge of tears, mandatorily evacuated the west bank; then later the entire east bank of Jefferson Parish.

Everyone was tough on looters. In Jefferson Parish, if you were out after curfew you would be considered a “suspicious person.” In Orleans, where 1500 National Guard troops have doubled the size of the NOPD, Nagin promised looters would “be taken straight to Angola…,”put in general population at the big house.

What happened? Rather than see what the hurricane would actually do, everyone left. By most accounts, getting out of the city wasn’t too bad. But bottlenecks at the I-55, I-12 and I-55 interchanges created parking lots. As of 10pm Sunday, there are reports of slow-moving, jammed-up traffic even as the first squall lines of Gustav’s outer bands approach.

Twitter is full of angry tweets. Angry because people feel forced out on an unplanned road trip, including pets, and forced to do so in many cases without too much spare cash. Now, they are angry because the pets and the kids are squalling because THEY’RE angry they’ve been stuck in a slow-moving car for 10 hours and aren’t any closer to their destination than they were 5 hours ago.

On a positive note, what these angry tweets can add up to are the tweets we never hope to read-the desperate tweets. “I’m on my roof, come get me!” tweets. Or, “I’m in my house, and the water is two feet now and keeps coming!” tweets. Or, “My parents are trapped. Can someone check on them?” tweets. A week after Katrina, I saved the HTML file of the nola.com forums that contained hundreds of such postings. I still have it, and read it when I feel able.

We don’t know what the future is going to hold. Is it, as NolaNotes asks, global warming? Is this going to keep happening every couple of years? Can we handle it if it does? If the city floods again, is it “game over”? Who knows. I just hope we don’t have a future with desperate tweets.

It’s hard to read, but on the telephone pole to the right of the storm-bent (but still standing) stop sign, a sign asks the stupid question: “Got Mold?”

Everything was fine, if there had been a water line it had been cleaned off. What was odd was that there were signs of people having been living in the cemetery before it was opened up. This makeshift shelter was on the tomb across the aisle from ours. It’s some lumber that’s been placed across from the top of the tomb to the adjoining fence, covered with blankets and fronds from a nearby palm tree. And a big 40oz. beer can and some other stuff needed for camping out in the cemetery while the city is evacuated.

Three years later, after poor management and foot-dragging by State Farm, Harborview has still not been issued an occupancy permit. Three years of owners paying mortgages and condominium assessments (that often are in excess of their notes) for a home that cannot be lived in or sold.

You can see the big mud puddle and light poles that once was the Coconut Beach volleyball complex and the bridge over the 17th Street Canal to Bucktown (or where Bucktown used to be).

Remains of the West End lighthouse and Southern Yacht Club.

A view up the canal along Hwy. 11 in Slidell, you know, where Tites used to be.

And, finally, I give you Boat Mountain.