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| Riding the streetcar to lunch at Commander's Palace! |
I realize that I may not exactly have my pulse on the zeitgeist, culinarily speaking, with this post. After all, the Internet is currently abuzz with hopeful New Year's food resolutions: solemn oaths to observe every single Meatless Monday, exuberant promises to lead a low fat lifestyle ... and, of course, many well-intentioned vows to
drink less.
Not me! Don't get me wrong: I don't plan to eat
nearly as much duck fat as I did in the last week of 2011 - it is unsustainable! - but I'm not kidding myself. Enjoying a good cocktail is one of the profound pleasures of life, one I never intend to give up. And on my recent four-day trip to New Orleans with Poppa Trix I indulged this passion with abandon. No, I don't mean that I guzzled disgusting grenade drinks or sugary, artless, booze filled cups of crap on Bourbon Street. That is a New Orleans drinking experience for people who don't enjoy
drinking, but rather crave being
drunk. And annoying.