Saturday morning I had a reservation at Red Gravy for breakfast. This restaurant is owned by an East Coast Italian woman, the red gravy refers to marinara sauce and it’s located just across Canal Street in the Central Business District. On Yelp and Tripadvisor, there have been numerous complaints about the service, rudeness and the owner, so I was hesitant. In fact, I’d booked it on my last trip, then decided to cancel the reservation after all. This time, I went through with it. The restaurant was about half full on Saturday morning at 9:30 a.m. The interior was quite cute – homey and intimate. They gave me the option of sitting at a table or at the bar. I chose the bar, of course! Service at the bar was likely to be much more one-on-one than sitting at a table. After all, I’d be right in the bartender’s face the entire time! The bartender turned out to be very friendly and efficient. The menu had many enticing choices for breakfast. I was debating between the cannoli pancakes and the polpetta omelette, but went for the latter. The polpetta omelette is an omelette filled with Italian meatballs and covered with marinara sauce and Parmesan, which also comes with fried potatoes and toast. The bartender suggested either a Bloody Mary or a Mimosa, but I wanted a Bellini. He made a very good one, too! The polpetta omelette was better than average and, most certainly, filling. My bill seemed a tad high at approximately $28, considering that this was New Orleans and not San Francisco, but I’ll take that into consideration if I ever think about returning for those cannoli pancakes. When I mentioned to the bartender that I’d be heading out to the Irish Channel to check out the block parties, he assured me that I’d have a great time.
The cab driver who dropped me in the Irish Channel said that it was one of the best and safest areas, contrary to what I’ve heard before. The mansions with their huge yards were beautiful. Many of them were hosting their own St. Patrick’s Day parties with the plenty of decorations, massive amounts of food and music blaring. I have never in my life seen so many people dress up and celebrate St. Patrick’s Day the way they do in New Orleans. It was astounding! Seeing little Creole children dancing to rap music while wearing “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” t-shirts with shamrocks painted on their faces made me smile! The Irish parade began at Magazine and Jackson, but it was already packed. I waited about a block away on Magazine as the route supposedly went down Jackson to St. Charles and back on to Magazine. After sitting on the curb downing some ice cold beers in the hot sun for an hour, I decided to squeeze in at Magazine and Jackson, anyway. The parade was taking forever to make its way down Magazine. I actually made it right up front and had the time of my life catching beads and everything else they threw. Some of the throws included boas, flags, flowers, beer cozies, cabbages, coins, Irish Spring soap and (who knows why?) Top Ramen! When the parade ended two hours after it began, I was so loaded down with beads that they were constricting. My purse was also full of them. I made a little pit stop at the Trashy Diva branch on Magazine Street hoping they might have something on sale (they didn’t), then continued walking all the way down Magazine Street and back to the French Quarter. It was a pleasant walk through a charming neighborhood. I wanted to stop at several places, but decided against it because it was more important to get back to my studio and rid myself of most of my beads.
In the Quarter, I stopped in at Boondock Saint for a beer first. That bar is allegedly owned by a retired cop (?) and frequented by a fair amount of off-duty policemen. There’s even a window for policemen on horseback so that their horse can stick his head in and get a sugar cube. A friend and some Tripadvisor people were planning to meet there. I texted the friend, but she hadn’t made it there yet. I left after one drink beings I didn’t know any of the Tripadvisor people and still needed to rid myself of the beads.
There was yet another detour on my way back to my studio – Killer Po’ Boys in the back of the Erin Rose Bar for a meatloaf po’ boy. It didn’t taste quite as good as before; I should have got the Jameson grilled cheese instead.
After freshening up and depositing most of the beads in my studio, I later set off for another parade in the Quarter – the Italian St. Joseph’s Parade. I stood on Chartres to view that. What made me laugh was that three men in their 40’s and 50’s were there together. Two of the men stood back on the sidewalk, but the other was out on the street next to me whooping and hollering for some throws. He didn’t get as many beads as the ladies, so I gave him a few of mine! Meanwhile, his friends told him that they were tired of waiting and were ready to get some drinks. “But I want just a few more beads!” I heard him say.
When the parade was over, I walked over to Muriel’s, deposited myself at the bar and ordered an appetizer of Gulf shrimp risotto and a fleur-de-lis, a delicious raspberry cocktail concoction. The Gulf shrimp risotto was very tasty and the perfect amount for me. The guy next to me was admiring it!
After eating, I stopped in at Kingfish again. A friend of mine from L.A. happened to be in town for the night, A. A’s older sister was married to a New Orleans native. A. texted me that they were heading for the Quarter and asked where I was. She met me at Kingfish, but her sister and brother-in-law went to a brewery on Decatur for dinner; they told us to meet them there when I was finished with my drink. About halfway through my drink, A. suddenly asked “Wait a minute, can’t you take that with you?!” Duh!! I’d completely forgotten that I can take my drink out in the street, as long as it’s in a plastic cup. I asked the bartender to pour the remainder of my drink in a plastic cup, then we were off to Decatur to meet her sister and brother-in-law. The 3 of them ate, but I merely had another drink, as I was still full from the risotto. We moseyed down Decatur Street after dinner perusing the T-shirt shops and stopping for some frozen daiquiris.
Once they left, I was crossing Bourbon Street when I slipped on something. It could have been anything – beads, plastic, alcohol, paper – who knows? I fell forward and landed really hard on my right knee. It took approximately 1 second for two Southern gentlemen to pick me up. One commented “There’s so much shi* on these streets! I hope you’re ok.” I actually felt like crying ’cause it hurt THAT bad, but I assured him that I’d be fine and soldiered on, though with a visible exaggerated limp.
Around midnight I was sitting in Chartres House waiting for John. I’d texted him before midnight to meet me there, which he’d agreed to. By 12:45 p.m. he hadn’t shown up. That’s about the time I glanced down and noticed a HUGE blood spot seeping through my jeans. That convinced me that it was time to head back to the studio. I sent John another text saying that they were closing the bar, which they were, and maybe we could catch up the following day. I then hobbled back to my abode.
Paintings in the Quarter
More Art in the Quarter
Float in the Irish Parade
Sign at a Tattoo Shop
In the Irish Channel
In the St. Joseph’s Parade