Maps of Fun

Because travel should be about options, we provide curated, customized maps to help travelers make the most out of any trip, whether it's an overnight or over multiple weeks. Interested? Email us at [email protected]

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Another ongoing exhibit at the Southern Food and Beverage Museum is the Gallery of the South, where you can go state-by-state and look at the various contributions each state has made to our larger culinary lexicon. 

I’ll share some highlights in this post, with more below the jump, but up first (because it’s the first state you see): Florida.

I must admit that I was totally charmed by the Cuban coffee stand display and the various Latin-American products arrayed on it.

Alabama’s main contribution is Big Bob Gibson’s BBQ, located in Decatur, AL, and is one of the oldest BBQ restaurants in the country.

Maryland’s offerings included--what else--Old Bay (and other McCormick spices), crabs, and beer. We do have an excellent beer scene here!

Virginia means their country ham, obviously, as well as their local spirits scene. I’ve had Belle Isle before, and it’s solid and worth a try if you’re interested in trying out craft distillery spirits.

Did you know that Fiesta tableware is made in West Virginia? Granted, my only experience in West Virginia was when we went for a few days to the Harpers Ferry area and the Fiestaware factory is nowhere near that, but it was fun to learn that!

While looking at the North Carolina display--a state I’m going to visit for the first time at the end of the month--I spotted the jar of Mt Olive Pickles, and realizing that Harris Teeter is based out of North Carolina, it makes sense why they carry it. 

While the Coca-Cola merch was the obvious choice for Georgia, I could also pick out the Georgia display from the hat and box from The Varsity, which is a fast food chain that inspires a lot of loyalty, I still remember the first time time I was at the Atlanta airport and the line for Varsity was massive while every other fast food place was basically empty. I didn’t have time to find out what the fuss was about, but the food did smell pretty good!

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It is impossible to talk about cocktails and New Orleans without bringing up absinthe. Walking down Bourbon Street, you’d be hard-pressed not to notice the Old Absinthe House at the Bienville intersection, and to this day they still sell the absinthe frappe first served there by bartender Cayetano Ferrer. I tried one on my first trip to the Big Easy, but didn't take any pictures because it was super-dark in the bar at the time. When we go back to NOLA in a week, I’m going to have to go back and try it again.

More below the jump!

The gallery is home to all kinds of absinthe paraphernalia: bottles, fountains, spoons (you rest a sugar cube on a slotted spoon and gently drip water out to slowly incorporate it into the liquor), and naturally the Art Nouveau ads that really leaned into the green fairy motif. 

Along the wall is a timeline of the history of absinthe and how it has influenced New Orleans culture and history. Because there were claims that the wormwood in absinthe drove people mad, bans were enacted across multiple countries, including the US in 1912 and France in 1914. Pastis would come to take the place of it--still with that anise flavor and pale green color, but without the alleged hallucinogenic properties--and the popular version of pastis that came to New Orleans was Herbsaint.

This substitute was necessary because by then, the Sazerac--considered the first American cocktail--had evolved to have the glass washed with some absinthe before assembling the rest of the drink. Absinthe wouldn’t return to the shelves of stores and bars until 2007 in the US and 2011 in France, following modifications made to remove any concerns about the wormwood.

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Part of the Southern Food and Beverage Museum is the Museum of the American Cocktail which runs along the left wall of the building. Here you can see the evolution of the cocktail, from the tools used to the iconic spirits poured, and while there’s a lot to take in, it’s definitely a trip!

As a Baltimorean for over a decade now, my eye is always drawn to anything that reminds me of home. (More on that in a bit.) I couldn’t help but notice this little plaque in a display about the martini in which native Baltimorean H. L. Mencken is said to have called the martini “the only American invention as perfect as the sonnet,” but he had quite a bit to say about drinking and the dos and don’ts around the activity in an essay titled “How to Drink Like a Gentleman: The Things to Do and the Things Not To, as Learned in 30 Years' Extensive Research,” first published in Liberty Magazine in 1935 and republished with permission by Gawker (RIP) back in 2013. It’s hilarious and starts off with quite the bang:

If the moral theologians in practice among us were engined by anything properly describable as apostolic zeal, they would be giving over a large part of their time, in these apocalyptic days, to teaching their catechumens how to drink. For it must be manifest that some such teaching is sorely needed in this great republic. Drinking with skill and taste is no more a natural art than love; either it must be learned by the onerous process of trial and error, or it must be taught. Plainly enough, the latter way is the better; but so far there is no sign that the guides appointed for gropers are ready to take it. 

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This Tiffany-style stained glass lampshade featuring Popeye and Olive Oyl is AMAZING.

Copeland’s, which is still in existence, was founded in 1983 by Al Copeland a little over a decade after he founded Popeye’s. While most locations are in Louisiana, there is one located in Jacksonville, Florida and two in Georgia, and apparently it’s been fairly successful. Copeland himself was a divisive figure in NOLA because he was quite brash, but even one of his critics elected to eulogize him positively following his death in 2008.

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No cataloguing of Southern food history in New Orleans would be complete without acknowledging Popeyes. Growing up in the Mid-Atlantic, Popeyes was not a brand that I had a strong attachment to compared with the likes of Roy Rogers, but when I went to college in Philadelphia, there was a Popeye’s adjacent to campus. I walked to said Popeyes with a classmate one afternoon because she was in the mood for their biscuits, and she naturally shared one with me, and it was a pretty impressive biscuit! I should note that my  experience with Southern-style biscuits was limited, but I loved that biscuit. It wouldn’t be until I bought Carla Hall’s cookbook and she shared her recipe for the “good” Popeye’s biscuits that I remembered how good they were, and now my husband is in charge of making them when we want them for brunch.

It was great seeing their iconic sign in a few different ways (though some of them needed a good dusting), as well as speculation as to what their spice blend looked like.

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My original plan was that I was going to take the streetcar from Gianna to get me close-ish to the Southern Food & Beverage Museum, but after waiting for a bit and seeing that none of the streetcars were moving, I chalked it up to an issue and I decided to start walking. It was only a mile away, and it would take me into the Central District for the first timea b

Located in a building that once housed one of New Orleans’s public markets, it’s basically one big room divided into sections, but it’s going to take some posts to share everything because that one room is a big room.

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I had to go back to Gianna because they have my undying loyalty ever since the sandal incident that happened the first time I came here. 

Wanting to try one of their cocktails, I opted for the Martini al Pomodoro, which was made with a tomato-water brine and London dry gin. I adore these kinds of drinks, and this one did not disappoint! I ordered the oven-roasted cauliflower from the daily specials menu, and it was honestly so amazing. I’ve been eating a lot more cauliflower over the last few years, and this was a particularly iteration: cheddar cauliflower, golden raisins, pine nuts, and whipped ricotta, and it was honestly perfect. 

(Note: cheddar cauliflower is due to its color, not its taste. I also really like purple cauliflower!)

I wanted to try the crawfish radiatore, which I didn’t realize was baked, but it was really good! The portion is pretty reasonable, and given that I would end up taking a nice long walk after this meal, I’m glad I had a substantial lunch powering me through all of it. 

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Scenes from walking down to the Warehouse District for a lunch at Gianna (perhaps one of my favorite solo lunch spots in NOLA). 

I went to say hello to the Piazza d’Italia, but it was closed to the public for the day, so the best I could do was snap some photos through the gates. (I’ve found that the Piazza seems to be always closed on Mondays, so maybe when we go in a few weeks I’ll test out this theory and drag my husband back there to see if it’s open on the days we will be there, none of which will be a Monday.

This sign is right across the street from Gianna and it was the first time I really noticed it, and I was so charmed by it.

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There were a number of conferences happening in New Orleans while we were in town, including a big one regarding the medical field at the convention center itself. (I know this because we let a lady share our rideshare from MSY to the city because we knew it was en route to our hotel.) As such, when I would go to the rooftop pool to get a swim, there would be a handful of men who were clearly on some sort of vacation who were getting some sun. The feminist in me saluted the women who brought their significant others down to New Orleans while they were working, and they slept in the sun while I was getting my swimming workout in while doing so in a pretty chilly pool.  The Hilton DoubleTree on Canal has its downsides (checking-in was a process, for one), but I really liked their pool deck area. I wish they kept it more robustly stocked with pool towels, but overall it was a solid pool area.

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We grabbed a ride to get to Bourbon Street, and of course the place we had to go to was Erin Rose because it provides a nice respite of relative chill compared to the rest of the activity just steps away. 

Notably on this trip, we met up with one of M’s old colleagues and it was really nice catching up with him, and we were toying with the idea of coming back Wednesday night because they were having a special event where you had to wear purple. M was ready to ask me to find a thrift store to find some purple clothes for us for the event, but because we ended up leaving a day early, we’ll just have to wonder what could have been.

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While my main goal for this NOLA trip was to try new-to-me places, no trip there is fully complete without at least one visit to Cochon Butcher. While we were staying at the DoubleTree on Canal so the walk was slightly longer than that from the Embassy Suites, it was basically a straight shot down Tchoupitoulas Street, which was nice, and it’s always a nice, low-key way to mark the first day after spending a good chunk of the day setting up the booth and the like.

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When we arrived at the DoubleTree on Canal Street, we were told that we likely wouldn’t have our room ready until the actual check-in time at the earliest, so we all ditched as many bags as we could and made the best of it by having some chill hangout time. Following a late brunch at Napoleon House, we took a nice little stroll and I suggested Crescent City Brewhouse as a potentially chill place to hang as it had a patio and, at least on a Sunday afternoon, some live music. We opted for the upstairs area and sat on the patio where we had a lovely view of the riverside and the music wasn’t right in our ears, and it was a lovely way to while away the time we needed to get into our rooms. 

Crescent City Brewhouse is the only brewery in the Quarter, and I enjoyed their beers immensely and once again, was bummed that I didn’t get another opportunity to come back here on this trip, but I hope to remedy that and sit at their downstairs bar when we return in a few weeks(!).

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April brought me to New Orleans again--I always find it funny when I have the opportunity to visit a place twice in six months after not visiting it for more than six years--and my main goal for this trip was to try to visit as many new-to-me places as possible while revisiting a few that I hadn’t gotten to back in October. After I helped out my husband and his colleague set up their booth for their trade show, we walked to Napoleon House for brunch, and we almost didn’t go in because we thought it would be a wait. (This is why I don’t have a photo of the absolutely charming hat sign and didn’t want to be weird about it later.) The hospitality gods looked down on us and granted us some grace, because we were seated shortly thereafter.

We had a lovely meal where we drank Pimm’s Cups--a specialty of the restaurant--and had a big charcuterie platter where we were able to enjoy some rabbit sausage, salami, and cheeses and I ended up getting the shrimp salad in avocado with some dressed Romaine lettuce. It was a lovely meal, and I had every intention of coming back here for another Pimm’s Cup that I could photograph properly at the bar, but this trip went slightly awry for reasons completely out of our control.

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After seeing the blossoms, I stopped for lunch at Bar Americano, which was the right decision given how beautiful the day was, and I tried their pepperoni pizza and it was fantastic. Paired with a glass of their house orange wine, it was a lovely little respite and the view a huge upgrade from the dreariness of the Mall in December. 

I got there right before noon, which was perfect because a line formed shortly thereafter and I had more than enough time to enjoy my pizza and wine and I left a little early to head back to Union Station. I ended up getting back there early enough that I could take the MARC train back to BWI so I could cancel my Amtrak ticket and save myself $17, so that was pretty sweet!

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I intentionally brought my nice zoom lens with me to take photos of the blossoms because I specifically wanted to take pretty close-up photos of the blossoms without disturbing them, but I did get some nifty cell photos, like this one that reminds me of Seurat’s A Sunday on La Grande Jatte. While I wasn’t surprised by the number of people--it was a nice day and it is also generally a popular time for various tour groups to come to DC--I will say that we all behaved mostly OK. I did see a full-blown photoshoot for what I’m pretty sure was a quince when I arrived, but credit where credit is due: they had to have been there pretty fucking early given the wagon of clothes I walked past, and they weren’t bugging anyone else.

Perhaps the most annoying crew I ran into was a large family who all needed to take photos next to a low branch with pink flowers that, depending on your angle, would also look straight to the Jefferson Memorial and as I write that out, I totally understand why they were doing it, but it felt slightly excessive as they moved through the permutations of family combinations to satisfy their camera rolls and self-imposed social media obligations. 

While I was there, the National Parks Service declared that the Yoshino trees were at peak bloom, or where 70% of the trees are in full bloom, and given that it was a gloriously sunny day (which had been predicted to be cloudy), warm, and the trees were blooming in force, it was a magical morning. 

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Following the initial, successful planting of the cherry trees, a cherry blossom festival would eventually start in 1935, but perhaps one of the more notable uses of the trees in soft diplomatic power would come after WWII, when the US sent budwood from those original 1912 trees back to Tokyo to replenish the grove along the Arakawa River near Tokyo as those trees had fallen into decline. This sparked a lovely cycle of sharing between the US and Japan where Japan would send us more trees, and we’d send them cuttings of those original 1912 trees to help replenish areas that had been affected by floods or similar. It’s a stark contrast to what the current administration is doing, and I fear for the repercussions that their demented and reckless actions will garner in the future.

The whole history of the cherry trees (linked in these posts) is definitely worth reading as a really lovely story of someone with privilege being inspired to do good after her time abroad and how it has led to a really special time in the nation’s capital and that it sparked people in charge of these things to bring more of these trees to other parts of the country, and how that all added to the soft, diplomatic power of our country. It’s especially frustrating to read in light of how the current administration is trying to destroy all of that and I cannot say this enough: fuck everyone who voted for this.

(If you voted for this--and let's be frank, you voted for all of this--and you’re reading this, well, fuck you too.) 

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After all messages of regret were sent, the Tokyo mayor made another attempt at sending trees, this time upping it from 2,000 to 3,020, and also featuring a number of different varieties, with the majority being the Yoshino trees seen around the Tidal Basin today. They arrived in Washington in 1912, and thankfully these trees were healthy and ready to plant!

First Lady Helen Taft and Viscountess Chinda, wife of the Japanese ambassador, did a ceremonial planting of the trees at the Tidal Basin where Mrs. Taft presented Viscountess Chinda with a bouquet of American Beauty roses, and that would be followed a few years later by her husband sending dogwood trees (the state flower of Virginia!) to Japan.