Fat Tuesday is a big day in Michigan schools. Laissez commencer the Michigan Merit Exam! Er, not quite what you were expecting? I’ll be cooped up for five hours proctoring this big old test with a room full of juniors. We’re not allowed to read anything at all besides the manual so I’m already planning my daydreams in advance. I’ll be in New Orleans, thank you very much, reliving every moment of my New Years trip to the boyfriend’s home state.
Why don’t you come along with me?
We’ve been there so much that we don’t do too much of the tourist thing, unless it’s checking out an iconic restaurant, of which there are many. We finally made it to Commander’s Palace for New Year’s Eve lunch. Let’s just say this place lives up to the hype. And it’s true-they have .25 cent martinis.
We spend most of our time trying to live like locals mainly because the boyfriend was once a local himself. We met in this great city a few years ago.
So we wander around a lot, by car and on foot. I take pictures. At least I try to.
We eat breakfast. Our favorite breakfast joint had closed in our absence. But we discovered a little Caribbean-feeling gem where I for one enjoyed an enormous banana pancake.
We coffee and relax at our favorite uptown spot.
Did I mention we avoid the French Quarter like the plague? We now prefer the Warehouse District. Oh the snobbery of the upscale tourists we’ve become. And there’s hipster restaurants.
And speaking of hipster restaurants, we stumble upon new favorites. Behold the creole burrito.
This funky spot is on Magazine Street. This particular trip seemed to be, for me at least, all about Magazine Street.
For the boyfriend, no trip is complete without a dozen of these beauties. In this case, a half dozen, since we were in one of those upscale places in the Warehouse District.
So while New Orleans will be reveling in Mardi Gras fun, I’ll be stuck in a classroom. But at least I have my misty watercolored memories.
And my leftover Gumbo.