There’s only one New Orleans — what a town.  This trip was planned months ago as a mid-winter getaway, and an extravagant Christmas present.  All that was planned was an early arrival on Friday, a decadent dinner on Saturday, and our departure early Sunday morning.  Everything else we did was on a whim, whatever caught our fancy.  We’ve said it before when traveling; we like to “let serendipity be our guide.”
We stayed at the Saint Charles Avenue Hilton, which was built as a Masonic Lodge in 1927 and was the city’s first skyscraper.  It was a perfect location, just three blocks from the French Quarter and on the Saint Charles Avenue streetcar line for easy access to the Garden District and points west.
We had a lunch recommendation at Drago’s, a 10-minute walk down Canal Street, and after lunch made our way to Saint Louis Cathedral.  Why not start a tour with a visit to the very heart of the city?  We stepped into the cathedral for a moment, then stopped at the Presbytère to see its two exhibits, one on Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath, and upstairs an exhibit devoted to the history of Mardi Gras.  The themes of the two exhibits resonate throughout the city: resilience in the face of adversity, and celebration in spite of it — two ever present aspects of life in this city.
Mercifully Mardi Gras was two weeks ago, with Shrove Tuesday (or “Fat Tuesday”) falling on 9 February this year.  The weekend before Fat Tuesday is the most raucous, of course, but the festivities begin on Twelfth Night (January 6), with a series of parades sponsored by the various Krews, all over New Orleans and in nearby towns.  There are parades in the French Quarter, Uptown, Slidell, Metairie, Westbank, Chalmette — everyone wants in on the action.  Along Saint Charles Avenue, the trees are dripping with green, gold and purple Mardi Gras beads.
Nighttime in the French Quarter, especially along Bourbon Street, is nearly as crazy as during Mardi Gras, with drunken revelers festooned with beads and tasteless T-shirts (“Free Weiner Rides”), walking about with drinks in hand, as if it’s Mardi Gras every night.  Yet in the thick of it among the fabled old-school restaurants (you’ve heard of them — Antoine’s, Galatoire’s, Brennan’s), over on Royal Street is antique dealer M.S. Rau, where you can buy things (if you can) like a Tiffany & Co. (c.1885) English King Sterling silver flatware service for $398,500, or a monumental 14 foot long Sheffield Silverplate Plateau for $154,500.  One of the clerks told us “We’re happy to ship anywhere!”  Of course they are.
After a little bar hopping, for dinner we picked an Italian place, Chef Duke’s Cafe Giovanni, and were pleasantly surprised that throughout dinner they have opera singers strolling about the dining room.  Though that night it wasn’t opera, but songs from Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals.  The gentleman singing songs from Phantom of the Opera would take a paper napkin and drape it over half his face.  Nice touch.
The wine with dinner (Shrimp and Grits, naturally, preceded with a rather complex Wedge Salad)  was a Bottega Vinaia Pinot Noir 2012 from Italy’s Trentino region, which possessed the brightest fruit and velvety full, round flavors.  It was so interesting, we purchased a case of the 2013 vintage when we got home.
The next day after a visit to the cemeteries uptown, we made our way to the Garden District for a walking tour, followed by lunch at a Vietnamese place on Saint Charles Street.  After resting in our room a bit, we cleaned up and headed out for dinner at Restaurant R’evolution, but first tried to find a quiet place (ha!) to have a drink beforehand.  Each restaurant was louder than the one before, especially the bar at the Hotel Monteleone with its Carousel Bar, and yes, it spins — albeit slowly, lest someone hurts themselves.
We found that quiet place a The Roost Bar at Brennan’s, with its fabled pink dining room.  Years ago on a house tour during Garden Week on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, we saw a dining room painted the most amazing shade of pink that we’ve looked for for years, and this was it, here at Brennan’s.  They even identify it on their website: “Tomato Cream Sauce” by Benjamin Moore.  We’ll be using it in our next dining room.  Brennan’s makes a divine Sazerac, by the way.
It was but two blocks to Restaurant R’evolution in the Royal Sonesta Hotel, which proved to be equally serene.  From the moment we entered the experience could be summed up in one word: “pampered.”  The service was spot on; attentive, yet in the background.  We were seated facing the open kitchen where we could watch the staff work their magic.
Why the name? Â As the chefs explain on their website:
According to Merriam-Webster, the word “revolution” is defined as “a fundamental change in the way of thinking about or visualizing something.” So, what does it mean to launch a culinary revolution in a city that prizes its gastronomic traditions above all? For chefs [Rick] Tramonto and [John] Folse, it meant taking to heart an age-old adage of Creole cooking: “First, begin with the roux.”
In that spirit, the chefs – led by Folse, an authority on Cajun and Creole cooking who has published nine books on the subject – have immersed themselves in the foundations of Louisiana’s complex cuisine and its unique swampland culture.
They also delved into Louisiana history, exploring the significant culinary contributions of each of the seven primary nations that inhabited the state, bringing raw ingredients from their native countries and cross-pollinating with their gastronomic traditions. The result will be a fresh and contemporary translation of Cajun and Creole cuisine, using Louisiana’s raw ingredients and building upon the history and traditions that define New Orleans.
If there was any complaint to be made overall about the dining scene in New Orleans, its that nearly every restaurant we went to used salt with a heavy hand. Many dishes were well balanced, but in other dishes the salt overwhelmed some things. Perhaps its a reaction to the climate, particularly in the warmer months where one is surely a ball of sweat from May to October.
Our return flight was at 1 pm the next day, so after breakfast at Lüke in our hotel.  Shrimp and Grits again, but this time with two fried eggs on top — dare I say this is perfection?  This left time for one more long walk around the French Quarter in a foolish attempt to shed a few of the calories from the night before.  It was foggy both mornings, but it burned off by 9 am as the cleaning crews were hosing down the sidewalks, getting ready for another night of debauchery.
A Weekend in The Big Easy. There's only one New Orleans -- what a town.  This trip was planned months ago as a mid-winter getaway, and an extravagant Christmas present. Â
