Friday, August 10, 2007

Magazine St., in the words of David Cassidy...

...I think I love you.

Thank the merciful heavens; it's finally Friday. That means it's time to kick back, order a Superdome Bloody Mary, and watch some preseason football. Tonight's match-up? The Bills at the Saints, here in our Louisiana Superdome. I'm excited and very much hoping to see our mulleted hero, Supa Saint. Long may his curly locks 'fro in the humid and infrequent breezes of New Orleans! D. and I, along with the now infamous M., will be meeting up with friends tonight to cheer on our Saints...assuming, of course, that Scott Fujita's little waterslide accident doesn't lead to a more serious issue with our defense than what we saw against the Steelers on Sunday night. A commenter on D.'s blog made what I thought was a good point - the Steelers needed this win more than the Saints. They've an unproven coach, and went deep into their playbook.

That said, our defense looked hideously bad and our offensive starters mainly paced the sidelines to avoid preseason injuries.

But a waterslide accident? COME ON. Seriously? Seriously. That's just ridiculous.

On to a happier note - food. Anyone who knows me knoooooooows I love the stuff. It's why I have birthing hips and lack that curious baby giraffe/praying mantis posture that Amy Winehouse, Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie all boast. In the metro area alone, there are 9,886 restaurants (per Google, at least) NOLA is a natural haven for any foodie, pretentious or otherwise.

I mean, hell, we possess the only McDonald's in the world with black arches (it's across the street from what was once the south's largest funeral home). Food has its own distinct voice here.

Is there anything better than alligator soup and fried bell pepper rings, with a couple of pitchers of Abita Amber, on a sticky, langorous Thursday night? How about aloo bhindi and naan covered in mango chutney for a lazy Friday lunch (the lunch buffet at Nirvana on Magazine St. is just THAT good)?

As for the former, Franky and Johnny's may be one of my favorite places to take visitors to New Orleans. From the worn tile floors to the checked vinyl tablecloths, this locals' haunt on the corner of Tchoupitoulas (try saying that ten times fast) and Arabella in uptown is a slice of heaven. From the boiled crawfish to the fried chicken platters (which are, scientifically speaking, ginormous), this place embodies my favorite characteristics of living here: the staff are always helpful and hospitable, the company is always good, the beer is always ice-cold, and the food is always fresh and wonderful.

From there the question is always where to go drink - will it be the world-class mojitos at St. Joe's? Blue Moon pints on Wednesday nights at the Bulldog? SoCo and Lime with a twist of people-watching from the second floor at the Balcony Bar?

Will it be tapas at Baru on a first date, or the crawfish and tasso pizza at Rocky's? Magazine St. - well, most of uptown, including Tchoup - seems to offer a little something for everyone. There are great retail stores, like Shoenami and Hemline, and there are fish markets and gelaterias. It's a self-contained community, and it's just so friendly.

The collie loves to head down to Pet Cetera on the weekends. D. and I walk down to CC's on Magazine and sit outside, reading the paper and just decompressing for the work week while the "bald-ass Lassie" stares down other dogs, trying to look threatening and always failing miserably.

I just returned from lunch down on Magazine St. I guess it's time to get back to work before I don the trusty ol' Deuce McAllister jersey for tonight's game.

P.S. A waterslide accident?!?

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