JazzFest Eve: More o’ Dis & Dat on the Day Before

Posted: April 23rd, 2015 | Filed under: Culture, Ruminations | 1 Comment »

jazzfest2“Order the soft shell crab.”

Advice to be heeded, since it came from the mouth of John Besh, among the two or three most heralded of New Orleans restaurateurs.

How I heard it, and can pass it on to you says a lot about this town and JazzFest.

I got the advice from Mitchell this afternoon at the Louisiana Music Factory, while the Write Brothers were doing an in store before a gathering of the tribes in town for the Fest.

Mitchell and I are, uh, well, I don’t know exactly how to describe our relationship. He and his bride were strolling to the LMF on this very same JazzFest Eve last year, when the Film Babe and I were likewise. We started the schmooze, realized a common love for New Orleans, college hoops, etc.

He says he reads my blog regularly — of course, I gave him my card, you silly — which is either true, or he’s just being nice. Anyway, there he was today. Again we went for the chit chat.

During which he advised he chatted up Besh at the airport. To which I advised that this town is one of the few were chefs are as big celebs as anybody. Mitchell is taking his krewe, 16 strong (including a dozen festival rookies) to Borgne, Besh’s highly regarded seafood joint.

When he mentioned his reservation, Besh shared the tip.

Soft shell crab. It’s a good thing.

A dozen new friends for JazzFest, when there might be some rain as it can only fall in the Delta. Which is to say in abundance. Fraught with peril, but par for the course. People come to JazzFest, love it, return home and turn into zealots, hoping their friends will join the festivities next time around.

But a dozen at a time. Good luck, Mitchell, my acquaintance/ chum/ friend. Brother of the Fest.

* * * * *

As for the Write Brothers, it’s a put together gang, featuring Paul Sanchez, slide master Spencer Bohren and a couple others, whose names I forgot to jot down. Shame on me.

Anyhow, Bohren can play, they all can write songs with the best of ’em, and their spunky take on “If You’re Gonna Do It, Do It Too Many Times” rollicked and rolled. Bohren’s dobro work on a lovely tune, extolling the virtues of N O was sublime.

I bought a few CDs and a righteous t-shirt with Fats Domino on the front.

* * * * *

There’s a funky little — really little — hotel on Royal Street, famous for it’s iron cornstalk fence.

It used to be called the Cornstalk Hotel. Clever.

Now it’s called the Cornstalk Fence Hotel. Umm, okay. Guess it’s got new owners.

Don’t let the trivia that Bill Clinton stayed there once fool ya. The Culture Maven has also stayed there, and it’s a dump.

Whatever they call it.

* * * * *

Among the street actors you can come across in the Quarter are a guy who morphs into a transformer and rolls around the pavement like a yellow mini Mini Cooper.

And a German Shepherd, trained to play drunk and passed out without moving.

Lots of turista. Lots of smartphone photos.

Also lots of street musicians, whose talent is way beyond their busking status.

* * * * *

It poured mid afternoon.

Here’s my New Orleans tip.

Never step outside without a plastic pocket parka on you.

* * * * *

I grabbed a quick po boy for lunch, at Stanley on the corner of Chartres and St. Ann in the Pontalba. (It’s American’s first apartment building. True.)

I went for the shrimp/ oyster combo.

Though I wonder if that’s not a mixed metaphor?

Anyhow, it’s as tasty as any you can get in the Quarter. No gyp joint, Stanley.

And has held me until dinner, which is not long from now. At Mosca’s across the river on the West Bank.

Chicken a la Grandé. I can smell and taste the garlic already.

* * * * *

Oh yeah, there’s a music festival.

It starts tomorrow morning.

I’ll be there. With my duck shoes and parka.


One Comment on “JazzFest Eve: More o’ Dis & Dat on the Day Before”

  1. 1 Wildcat said at 9:30 am on April 24th, 2015:

    How can one stay slim while living in New Orleans? I am ravenous just reading about your food road tripin’. Lucky man you are.


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