By now, I’m sure you’ve read at least a few diaries about Netroots Nation from different perspectives. I knew I wanted to write something about my experience, but I also don’t particularly want to repeat what others have said. Yes, Elizabeth Warren and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Kamala Harris and others were great. And, of course, meeting other Kossacks from all over the country—some for the first time—is always an incredible experience. But I don’t think my perspective will be much different from others you can find here.
It struck me as I was going through my photos that pretty much all of my pics were of food. This makes sense for me, because you know that I’m all about food porn, and I’m also not too comfortable asking to take pictures with people. And, in fact, when I made plans to travel to New Orleans, I knew that food was going to be a major part of my trip. Since this was as close to a vacation as I’m going to get this summer, I decided that I wanted to spend about a third of my time at NN, a third of my time doing R&R in my hotel room (badly needed), and a third of my time exploring the city’s restaurants. I was really planning to treat myself without worrying so much about making it to every panel or sticking to a tight budget. The last time I was in New Orleans was about six years ago for the American Historical Association conference—I had bell’s palsy, was wearing an eye patch, and was unable to open half of my mouth. I stuffed a beignet in the half of my mouth that worked and wondered what the fuss was about. New Orleans was miserable for me, so I was determined to have a better experience this time around. I planned pretty carefully and sought out a variety of different restaurant experiences on my downtime. So this is mainly going to be a food diary, just to warn you (but the title probably tipped you off).
I made the pretty big mistake of deciding to drive to New Orleans. It’s only five and a half hours, I thought. I don’t want the hassle of airports and Uber and making it on time to flights, I thought. I have a new car and it will be fun, I thought. It is a mistake I will not make again, because there is nothing exciting about driving through the swamps. Very little to see, and a lot to smell.
By the time I made it through the seemingly endless stretch of stinky swamps, I had worked up an appetite, so it was good that I’d planned beforehand where I was going to stop for dinner. The plan was to stop at Cou-Yon’s Bar-B-Q in Port Allen, just outside of Baton Rouge. When I got close, I plugged it into Google Maps and started taking directions. Google told me to exit the highway, and then took me down a narrow country road that seemed like it was leaving civilization entirely. Weird, I thought. As I got further and further into the country, I started to have some real doubts. But no, Google cannot be wrong! Trust the technology! The machine knows! There really is an Office clip for everything...
Then, Google had me turn onto a dead-end road. People come out all this way for food? At the very end of the road, I finally reached my destination. It was a big, creepy Texas Louisiana Chainsaw Massacre-looking house that certainly was not serving food. In fact, I had suspicions that I was the one on the menu if I didn’t get out of there. It turns out that Google Maps is not always right about everything, so double-checking might have been a good idea. By that point, I’d gone about 30 minutes out of the way.
I did make it to Cou-Yon’s, though. And it was actually worth all of the driving. I started my food journey off right with a shrimp and fish po’ boy and a side of hushpuppies:
I finally got to New Orleans late in the evening—just in time to collapse into bed. But not before admiring my nighttime river view (through my smudged window):
When I got up freakishly early in the morning (Zoe has trained me well), I knew where I had to go. Café du Monde was quite the walk from the Hilton, but I figured I could use the morning exercise considering what I was about to ingest. I regret that I did not try the café au lait—just their strong-ass black coffee. And now that I could open my entire mouth and wasn’t generally miserable, I actually enjoyed the beignets quite a bit more.
Café du Monde became a (very unhealthy) ritual for me in New Orleans. It did give me an opportunity to take a relaxing morning walk along the river, though.
When you couldn’t find me at NN, you could find me scoping out different restaurants to try. On Thursday, I ate lunch at Cochon, a Cajun restaurant that honestly was a bit pretentious and maybe a tad overpriced, but the food really was excellent. I had a small bowl of gumbo and some mac and cheese in a cute little cast iron pan.
That night, a group of us made the wise decision to go out to New Orleans Creole Cookery, which serves classic Cajun-Creole dishes. Actually, nomandates can be credited with the decision—the concierge gave us some options, and nomandates made the call. It was an amazing choice. The lighting in the restaurant was terrible for food pictures, so the pics you’re going to see do not do the food justice. Everything was just about perfect, though. The service was top-notch, and a lot of good conversation was had.
We left feeling extremely stuffed...it’s a good thing we had a long walk back to the hotel. But, a couple of hours later, I was starting to make room for a little something-something sweet. I thought, “Fuck it...I’ve never had room service before, and I’m treating myself. I want some crème brûlée.” I didn’t take the service charge and tip into account when I made my impulse decision. Here is what $20 of Hilton crème brûlée looks like...good (and photogenic), but probably not the smartest choice I’ve ever made.
For Friday’s lunch (after my morning beignets), I decided on Luke. This is a restaurant the BF went to when he traveled to New Orleans, and he told me that I had to eat the shrimp and grits. Luke is a kind of upscale, Creole-inspired restaurant that I believe was started by celebrity chef John Besh. Even my Diet Coke (which became something of a running joke by the end of NN) felt elegant.
I had some incredible food experiences in New Orleans, but the shrimp and grits were far and away the best thing I ate. You can’t really see under those eggs, but the dish was jalapeño cheese grits with shrimp and andouille in a rich sauce. I could not get those grits out of my head after I left. The next time I’m in New Orleans, I think this will be my first stop.
I ate a lot on Friday. My next stop later in the day was Coop’s Place, a bar and Cajun restaurant that doesn’t let anybody under 21 in (my kind of restaurant). Word was that it’s small and the line gets out of control starting around 7:00, so I was sure to get there earlier. I got there just in time—the line started to form after I was seated. It was kind of a divey atmosphere that I’m sure would have been more fun if I drank and if I went with people. The atmosphere was fun, but I’d probably give the food a 3 out of 5, to be honest. I got a sampler platter similar to side pocket’s above:
Later in the evening, I went out with nomandates, smileycreek, paradise50, and belinda ridgewood. We ended up at Galliano Restaurant, which was another excellent choice. I wasn’t too terribly hungry (obviously), but I ended up getting an appetizer: Jean Lafitte Gratin, which was basically cheese dip with bread. The server tried to make clear that smileycreek and I were “just” getting cheese dip, and I was like, “Is that supposed to dissuade us?” Please...
And then we shared a slice of chocolate cake, because of course…
So, after my gluttony on Friday, I skipped the beignets on Saturday morning. Instead, nomandates and I went on a lovely trip (by streetcar) all the way over to the Camellia Grill, a classic greasy spoon diner with counter service. It was well worth the trip, and we really were right next to the kitchen action:
It’s my understanding that this was FogCityJohn’s recommendation, so shoutout to him! I got a pecan waffle with chicken tenders, and nomandates got an omelette. I only got a pic of my chicken and waffle, though...which I drowned with butter and syrup. (I asked the server what the bright yellow liquid in the syrup dispenser was, and he told me it was melted butter. That is when I knew we’d come to the right place.)
My plan was to start my drive home right after the closing plenary on Saturday evening, so I knew I had to make my last lunch in New Orleans count. I ended up settling on the Original Pierre Maspero’s, which has some history:
I got a seafood platter with shrimp and southern fried fish. Underneath the mess of fried seafood, believe it or not, are fries, bread, and hush puppies.
And key lime pie for dessert:
That just about wraps up my food journey through New Orleans. I ate the fuck out of that city, it’s safe to say. But I didn’t hit everywhere I wanted to go—so there will be a next time!
After the closing plenary, I drove through the swamps of Louisiana in the dark and tried not to think about how horrible it would be to break down. As I entered Texas, I welcomed myself home the best way I knew how…
Which is a fitting end for a food diary, I think. What do you want to kibitz about tonight?