good southern girls

I've only lived in the South for ten years; before that I lived in Oklahoma. Even though Oklahoma technically isn't the South, my grandmother, Willie Ruth Abbott (or Mee-Mo, as my cousin Kitty dubbed her), was a true Southern cook, making fresh sausage gravy and biscuits every morning, pouring cornbread batter into hot bacon grease in her cast-iron mold. What I learned about Southern food early on in life was all due to spending time in the kitchen with Mee-Mo, crimping the edges of her fried pies. When I was growing up, we'd travel every few years to family reunions held at Pleasant Hill Cemetery in Durant, Oklahoma--a densely green and hilly area in the southeastern corner of the state. Long tables would be set up in the covered pavillion of the cemetery, loaded with every cook's most-requested dishes:  fried chicken, dilly bread, peach cobbler, macaroni salad, angel biscuits, fried pies, baked beans, and several potato salads. Just writing this list makes my soul ache for those sweltering afternoons of paper plates weighted down with so much good food.

Mee-Mo had one of the most popular potato salads. Sometimes she'd get a little carried away, adding black olives or tomatoes or other oddities, but she could make a tasty dressing, which is really what potato salad is all about. I'd like to think that all "good southern girls (or boys)" can whip up a potato salad from scratch simply by birthright, but the reality is that it takes a little practice. You need to overseason the dressing a bit, because the potatoes are going to zap up some of its zing as soon as they touch it. You need to make more dressing than you think you'll need, because the potatoes will soak up a good deal of it while the salad chills. These are the tips you learn from a good-southern-girl-turned-grandmother, and we're all lucky if we've had the chance to know one.

*Note: Here in Louisiana, a popular home-cooking treat is to make potato salad to eat with your gumbo. Put some potato salad on your spoon, dunk it in your hot gumbo, and enjoy. I've tried it, and it's pretty awesome.

Good Southern Girl Potato Salad

• 4 pounds red-skinned potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
• salt and ground black pepper
• 2 stalks celery, minced
• 1 bunch green onions, sliced (both green and white parts)
• 2 T. sweet pickle relish (optional)
• 3 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and chopped (optional)
• 3/4- to 1 cup mayonnaise
• 3 T. grainy mustard (I use Creole, but Dijon or deli or plain old yellow are fine)
• 2 T. extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 T. red wine vinegar
• 1 t. fresh thyme or 1 t. chopped fresh dill

1. Bring about 4 quarts of well-salted water to a boil in a large pot. Add potatoes and bring back to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and cook for about 9 minutes, or until potatoes are tender but not mushy. Test one by poking a sharp knife point into some of the bigger pieces: if there is no resistance, they're done.
2. Drain potatoes into a colander. Place them back in the pot, where the residual heat will help dry out some of the excess water. Let cool for about 10 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, make the dressing. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise and mustard. Slowly whisk in the olive oil, then the vinegar. Season well with salt and pepper and add the fresh thyme. Taste for seasoning: it should have a good amount of zing. If not, adjust it by adding little bits more of salt, pepper, vinegar, mustard, or whatever you think it needs.
4. Add potatoes and all the other ingredients to dressing, stirring gently with a rubber spatula to avoid breaking all the potatoes. Taste for seasoning again and adjust. If it seems dry, go ahead and add more mayo or oil and mix it in--it's better to do it now than after chilling.
5. Chill, covered, in refrigerator for at least an hour and up to a day.

Serves 5-7

good southern girls

food orleans review: Hungry Town by Tom Fitzmorris

How did a city that celebrates the traditional offerings of French Creole landmarks such as Antoine’s and Galatoire’s become an industry trendsetter? How did the 1880s-built Commander’s Palace become the hottest “new” place to dine in New Orleans a hundred years later? Mostly, it’s a combination of timing and the chef/restaurateur relationship--and Tom Fitzmorris has stories to tell. He has covered the restaurant beat for various print publications since 1972, and has discussed the city’s restaurants over the radio waves almost daily since 1979. Hungry Town includes a welcomingly brief explanation of the author’s apprenticeship and tenure writing about the city’s most important industry, and quickly gets to the good stuff--the food. But Fitzmorris’s friendships (and rejections) behind the scenes provide backstory vital to understanding the intensity of the most formative years of New Orleans restaurantism--like when Paul Prudhomme’s blackened redfish hit the scene and so many cast-iron skillets nationwide--or when Prudhomme asked onetime pal Fitzmorris to stay out of his restaurant because of “controversial” discussions held on his radio talk-show--whether K-Paul’s should, in fact, offer diners more selection than their usual two wines.

Prudhomme was not the only major player, although his recipe for blackened redfish was so popular that it eventually led to a fishing ban; the Brennan family, of Brennan’s, Mr. B.’s, Commander’s Palace, and so many other gems, has long been the city’s most contributory group of restaurateurs, with a talent for recognizing talent. Through their doors have passed some of the country’s most influential chefs, including Prudhomme, Emeril Legasse, and the late Jamie Shannon, who have themselves trained many chefs in the new generation. Hungry Town leads us into the 90s, when Legasse and Susan Spicer became the harbingers of ingredient-oriented cooking and highly descriptive menus, and then into the current decade of “sleazy chic” bistros, during which the future of the city’s food culture has been both questioned and reaffirmed, and the dress code has shifted from jacket-and-tie to the more forgiving “Katrina casual.”

New Orleans restaurants share a common repertoire, and it has been this way for decades. Fitzmorris compares the standard Creole menu pre-1980 (built on traditional shrimp remoulade, turtle soup, and trout amandine) with the post-K-Paul’s renovation, with new classics you’ll still find at most Creole bistros (crab and corn bisque, trout with pecans, and bread pudding souffle). The thing is, no matter how often a diner sees the same dishes on the menu, they’re executed well. No matter how many new “twists” a chef may add to the dish or how wildly he “reconstructs” a basic preparation like jambalaya or pecan pie, if it’s served in New Orleans, it’s usually fantastic. Not just good--fantastic. This relentless deliciousness is served up in heavenly proportion in Hungry Town: one-quarter memoir, one-quarter cookbook, and one-half entertaining history of restaurant culture. In a year when two of the three James Beard Foundation cookbook nominees in the category “American Cookery” are New Orleans chefs (John Besh and Donald Link), Hungry Town is a savory source for understanding why.

food orleans review: Hungry Town by Tom Fitzmorris

gone crawfishing

Crawfish has two usages as a verb in Webster's: one is to catch crawfish, and another is to back out of something you've committed to. But I'm proposing a third definition: to crawfish is to celebrate the deliciousness of the little creatures by churning out as many recipes as you can in one weekend and stuffing yourself full of their glory. And with that definition in place, I can honestly say I have been doing a lot of crawfishing lately.

Our craw-odyssey began on Friday evening with a shellfish stock to use in some of the recipes (and a lot leftover to freeze). Well, actually, it began on Friday afternoon, snacking on crawfish tails and crabmeat pulled from the shells we were using for the stock--one of the rewards of making a stock with the shells of already-cooked sea-things.

For the stock, we took the extra step of roasting the picked shells. Here they are in the roasting pan:

Pretty, huh? They only need about 30 minutes in a 375-oven to intensify and deepen their flavor somewhat. Any longer than that would risk burning the shell and bits of meat still inside, turning them bitter.

I love the way this stock looks. There just isn't a prettier stock than one involving crawfish. Of course, the finished product looks boring and brown, just like a rich chicken stock, but at this point--when the herbs and lemon have just been added and all the little guys are just soaking in the tub, getting to know each other--it's a kaleidoscope of color.

Later that night came Crawfish Etouffee, that iconic Lousiana stew of seafood and vegetables, with a little tomato, served over rice. The above photo shows a step we like to take when making these types of stews (like sauce piquant or jambalaya)--pincé. To pincé (pronounce it "pens'-say") is to add tomato paste and a pinch of sugar when the sauteed vegetables are nearly dry, then stirring and cooking that tomato paste until it deepens in color and intensity--literally just before the sugars scorch. This technique baffled me when I first heard about it, but I have tasted the difference between adding tomatoes to a dish and pincéing tomato paste, and I fully support the pincé camp. Picture adding a can of diced tomatoes with juice, as the original recipe called for--the tomatoes are soft and juicy, and the juice immediately mingles with the other veggies and takes on some of their flavors. But when you add paste, which is thick and somewhat solid, and then refuse to feed the pot with liquid until it's almost completely dry, the paste turns in on itself for moisture and caramelizes, shrinking and condensing even further--thus giving the dish a deep, sweet, tomatoey flavor. You end up with more tomato flavor from less tomato. As you can see, the etouffee turned out rich, red, and creamy, and chock-full of sweet crawfish tails.

The next day there was an incredibly scrumptious Seafood Dip, using up some of the leftover crawfish, crab, and shrimp from the picked shells. Below is a photo of the vegetables and andouille sauteeing and flavoring-up on the stove. Dip made with cream cheese and sour cream is something I make only once or twice a year, usually for parties. But we had all the right bits of seafood and veggies lying around, so...why not?

Finally, on Sunday, I made crawfish pies (pictured at the top of the post), crusted with a delicate cornmeal dough that exfoliates and moisturizes your hands as you mix it (butter + cornmeal = tasty hand scrub!). These didn't taste exactly like a Natchitoches crawfish pie--the filling is more herbal and citrusy, and the pastry is far more delicate (for example, you couldn't drive a bass boat and eat one out of your left hand at the same time). Also, I baked them instead of frying, and I'm so glad I did. That pastry is rich, ya'll--rich. It's got a wonderful buttery flavor and a slight crunch and sweetness from the cornmeal, which is something I adore. In fact, I believe it would be the perfect pastry for a plum or nectarine pie. Gotta get to work on that one.

If you don't have live or freshly boiled crawfish in your area, don't worry. The stock can be made with shrimp and crab shells, or just shrimp shells, and the shrimp can be the raw frozen kind you get in Durant, Oklahoma. The stock won't be the same, but it'll be your own homemade shell stock, and that's a good thing. For the rest of the recipes, it's certainly fine to use pre-shelled, pre-cooked crawfish tails that come in one-pound bags--but note that they must be Louisiana crawfish tails. Look on the bag, it will tell you where they're from. If the bag says they're from China, shake your head and toss that bag back in the bin. If the bag says they're from Louisiana, put them in your cart and maybe wince at the price difference but GET OVER IT. Crawfish from China are antibioticized, flavorless, chewy fluff you wouldn't bait a possum trap with--trust me on this one.

Shellfish Stock (adapted from Hooks, Lies, & Alibis)

• 1 pound each crab, shrimp and crawfish shells (we used way more crawfish shells than the other critters) (you can ask your seafood supplier to set these aside for you instead of buying them with meat inside, if you don't want an awesome lunch while you're peelin')
• 2 onions, chopped
• 2 carrots, sliced
• 2 stalks celery, chopped
• 6 cloves garlic
• 4 sprigs parsley
• 2 sprigs thyme
• 6 whole black peppercorns
• 1 lemon, sliced
• 1 gallon cold water
• 2 cups dry white wine

1. Optional first step: Place the shells in a roasting pan and bake at 375 for 30 minutes, stirring once or twice.
2. In a large stockpot over medium-high heat, combine all ingredients and bring to a rolling boil. Reduce heat to simmer, cover, and cook 45 minutes or until liquid is reduced slightly. During cooking process, skim off all impurities that rise to the surface and discard. Add additional water if necessary.
3. Strain stock through a colander over a large bowl to get the shells and vegetables out. Pour strained stock from bowl back into the stock pot.
4. Strain stock through a cheesecloth-lined colander or very tight sieve to remove smaller bits of shell and vegetables and debris.
5. Cool, portion into rigid containers, and freeze up to a month.
6. You're not done!! Double-bag your trash with the shells in it. Close it up tightly and take it outside to the trash bin. Cover the trash bin. When it's trash day, make sure you get that bin out there in time. If your cooking partner says you can wait until tomorrow, don't you believe it. Fresh seafood shells smell great. Old seafood shells smell like hades.

Makes approximately 2 1/2 quarts.

Crawfish Etouffee (adapted from www.emerils.com)

• 6 T. butter
• 4 T. flour
• 2 cups chopped onions
• 1/2 cup chopped celery
• 1/2 cup chopped bell pepper
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 T. tomato paste
• pinch white sugar
• 2 1/2 cups stock (shellfish, fish, shrimp, or chicken (if you must))
• 1 1/2 t. salt
• 1/2 t. crushed red pepper flakes
• tabasco to taste
• 2 t. Worcestershire sauce
• 2 pounds crawfish tails, with the fat
• juice of half a lemon
• 1 cup chopped green onions
• 1/4 cup chopped parsley
• cooked white rice for serving

1. In a large, heavy saucepan over medium heat, melt 4 tablespoons of the butter and whisk in flour to combine well. Continue to cook this roux, stirring constantly, until it's the color of peanut butter (you might need to lower the heat a bit to keep it from scorching).
2. Add onions, celery, bell pepper, garlic, bay leaves and thyme and cook until vegetables are soft, about 6 to 8 minutes.
3. Add tomato paste and a pinch of sugar and cook, stirring constantly, for 5 to 7 minutes, until tomato paste is a deeper rust in color, but not brown. The mixture will be dry. If it smells like it's on the verge of burning, pour the stock in.
4. Add stock, salt, red pepper, Tabasco, and Worcestershire and bring to a boil. Skim surface, reduce heat to a simmer, and cook uncovered for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.
5. Add crawfish tails and their fat, lemon juice, green onions, and parsley and cook for 15 to 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
6. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary (probably will need to add more salt). Serve over hot rice.

8 servings

Seafood Dip (adapted from The Encyclopedia of Cajun & Creole Cuisine)

• 2 T. butter
• 3 green onions (scallions), sliced
• 1 stalk celery, minced
• 1/2 of a large red bell pepper, minced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 2 T. andouille sausage, minced (or any other flavorful pork--ham, cooked bacon, tasso, etc.)
• 2 t. hot chili, minced (we used a small Italian chili pepper jarred in olive oil; jalapeno would work, or any other hot chili you like)
• 2 cups finely chopped cooked crawfish tails, shrimp, and crab in any ratio you like, or a single one of these
• 1 t. lemon zest
• black pepper, white pepper, and cayenne pepper (the pepper-fecta)
• few dashes Worcestershire sauce
• few dashes Tabasco
• 4 oz. cream cheese, at room temperature
• 1/4 to 1/2 c. mayonnaise
• 1/2 c. sour cream

1. Melt the butter in a medium skillet over medium-high heat. Add green onions, celery, red bell pepper, garlic, andouille, and hot chili and saute for about 5 minutes, until vegetables soften and andouille shrinks and browns.
2. Turn heat to low and add seafood, stirring to combine everything and meld the flavors. Add lemon zest, black, white and red peppers to taste, Worcestershire, and Tabasco. Taste, and if the mixture needs salt, add some. Adjust the seasonings, keeping in mind that the dairy products will soften the heat of the various peppers and have a slight dulling effect on the saltiness.
3. Place seafood mixture in a medium bowl and allow to cool to room temperature. Add cream cheese, mayonnaise, and sour cream to mixture, blending with a rubber spatula or wooden spoon. Taste and adjust seasoning.

Makes about 3 cups. I recommend chilling it in the fridge for a couple of hours to let the flavors develop a little more, but it's so good that you might want to ignore that suggestion and just eat it, standing, in the kitchen. Serve it with some sturdy wheat crackers.

Crawfish Pies (from Crescent City Cooking)

Cornmeal Pie Crust

• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup cornmeal
• 1 T. sugar
• 1 1/4 t. salt
• 1/2 pound (2 sticks) plus 1 T. cold unsalted butter, cut into small dice (I stick mine in the freezer for several minutes after I cut them, so they'll be good and cold)
• 1/4 cup ice water
• 3/8 cup sour cream (I think a 1/2 cup is fine, and easier than this fraction. My dough ended up needing more water, anyway, so more moisture from sour cream would be fine.)
• 1 egg, beaten, for egg wash

1. Place flour, cornmeal, sugar, and salt in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse to combine. Add butter and pulse into the dry mix just until coarse pebbles of butter form.
2. Transfer mixture to a large bowl. By hand, gradually work in the sour cream and ice water. The dough should be soft and pliable but not sticky. Adjust as necessary with flour and water.
3. Chill the dough at least 30 minutes (or up to a day in advance).

Crawfish Filling

• 1 T. olive oil
• 1 T. butter
• 1/2 medium onion, diced
• 1 celery stalk, diced
• 1 small green or red bell pepper, diced
• 1/2 fennel bulb, diced (optional: we used about 9 button mushrooms, chopped, instead)
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 3 green onions, sliced thin
• 3 T. chopped fresh parsley
• 2 T. flour
• 3/4 cup stock (shellfish, seafood, vegetable, or chicken; or 1/2 cup stock and 1/4 cup milk or cream)
• zest and juice of 1 medium lemon
• 1/2 t. Worcestershire sauce
• 1 pound cooked and peeled crawfish tails, coarsely chopped
• salt and pepper to taste
• hot sauce to taste

1. Heat oil and butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onion, celery, bell pepper, and fennel, and saute for about 5 minutes, until softened.
2. Add the garlic, green onions, and parsley and cook for 2-3 minutes more.
3. Sprinkle the vegetables with flour and stir. Whisk in the stock, lemon zest and lemon juice, and Worcestershire.
4. Add crawfish and simmer for a few minutes, until crawfish is warm. Adjust seasonings with salt, pepper, and hot sauce.
5. Cool to room temperature or refrigerate until ready to make pies.
6. When ready to bake pies, preheat oven to 350 and line a baking sheet with parchment or wax paper. Separate dough into 8 portions. On a well-floured surface, roll each out into a 6-inch round, about 1/8" thick (I am no pastry wizard, so I trimmed the rolled-out doughs into circles with a knife). Place 2 to 3 tablespoons of filling on one half, fold the other side over the top, and crimp the edges together with a floured fork.
7. Brush each pie lightly with egg wash, and bake at 350 until golden, about 25-30 minutes. Cool completely on wire racks.

Makes 8 large individual turnovers.

gone crawfishing

the stars of spring

One of the things I love about the Crescent City Farmers Market is their varied locations--and even more, that one of those locations, the Thursday evening market, is a short walk from our house. This past Thursday, we sauntered out with dozens of people from the neighborhood who were taking advantage of the brief period in New Orleans when days are sunny and bright, but not hot. For a month or so, the weather will be the star here, with sweet Louisiana produce running a close second.

We sampled some great gazpacho, tabbouleh, and salsa, and took home hand-made black bean and corn tamales, cilantro hummus, cajun-spiced goat cheese, Gulf shrimp, shiitake ciabatta bread, and rich, red, plump, freshly picked strawberries. At left is a strawberry bruschetta we made as part of our farmers market dinner: sliced ciabatta, spicy goat cheese, and thickly sliced strawberries--an unorthodox combination of sassy local offerings.

Above: busy market stalls; fresh vegetables; locally made goat cheese; handmade tamales and sauces.

Pictured below is another simple way I like to enjoy these succulent fruits: strawberry caprese. Several years ago, my friend Brooke served me a caprese salad, which is traditionally made of sliced tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and basil, made with peaches instead of tomatoes. It was an enlightening moment for me, and really made me think about why the caprese works in the first place. It's a simple combination, seasoned lightly with salt, pepper, a drizzle of balsamic vinegar and/or olive oil, as you prefer; yet its success rests on the interplay of peppery basil, mild, cooling cheese, and the tart sweetness of late-summer tomatoes. So before those tomatoes are at their best, but you still want the fresh caprese experience? Use whatever fruit is bursting with color and excitement, and serve it either as an appetizer or a welcoming dessert.

the stars of spring

where y'everything: a list of places to eat and more in new orleans

We're offering this list of eateries--plus a few bars, attractions, and oddities--for our guests and guests unknown to get ideas about where to spend their time and money. Only places we have visited and actually recommend are on the list. If you'd like to suggest places that aren't here yet, feel free to leave a comment, and we'll add it to the list if we agree. Happy exploring...

French Quarter

Eats

• Central Grocery (home of the muffaletta; mostly takeaway)
• Coop's Place (best restaurant jambalaya, hands down)
• Felix's (great oysters, turtle soup, sweet potato fries)
• Antoine's (high-priced, long-established classic French; recommended if you can budget it)
• Mother's (breakfast all day, plus outstanding ham po-boys; also all the New Orleans cuisine you want: red beans & rice, gumbo, spaghetti, fried chicken, etc.)
• Port of Call (great big steak-like burgers, steaks, baked potatoes (no french fries here), big sweet drinks; there's usually a line out the door, but it's worth it; vegetarians beware)

Drinks

• Molly's on Toulouse or Decatur
• Pirate's Alley (next to the Faulkner house & bookstore; absinthe; smoke-free, with outside "alley" seating)
• One-Eyed Jack's (mainly a music venue; also, burlesque offerings)
• Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop (sometime-piano bar, but mostly just a good place to relax)

Lodging

• We highly recommend the Hotel Villa Convento (rumored to be the original "House of the Rising Sun").

Around Bayou St. John

Eats

• Liuzza's by the Track (po-boys, fried seafood, gumbo)
• Parkway Bakery & Tavern (extensive po-boy menu, roast beef to die for)
• Mandina's (traditional New Orleans offerings with an Italian-American attitude)
• Angelo Brocato's Ice Cream (canolli, spumoni, gelato)
• K-Jean's Seafood (seafood vendor; no tables, but you can get po-boys to go or shrimp boiled to order, or choose a whole fish & they'll fillet it for you and give you the bones for your stock)
• Nonna Mia (pizza, sandwiches, some pastas; Sunday brunch; quality, tasty ingredients; delivery)
• Cafe Degas (French bistro; brunch; beautiful, sunny but sheltered setting on the boulevard)

Other

• New Orleans Museum of Art (sculpture garden too)
• Fortier Park (a nice outdoor game of chess)
• Fair Grounds race track (horseracing and some decent snacks; check out the gumbo with crab claws)
• City Park (I recommend the train and the ladybug rollercoaster, but you could also rent a paddle boat or get some exercise or all sorts of other parkly activities)
• Pal's Lounge (an apres-activity beer spot; you'll often find some gratis red beans and rice here on Mondays, plus "roll-a-day" for a $1-chance at the jackpot)

CBD (Central Business District)

• St. Charles Bar (gumbo & red beans/rice next door)
• Luke (business-suit spot; also serves breakfast)
• August (fine dining; extremely delicious; prix-fixe lunch--3 courses for $20)

Warehouse District

• Cochon (inspired Cajun cuisine; specializes in pork, of course)
• Cochon Butcher (Cochon's neighbor--a true butcher shop, but one with a full bar and fantastic $6 tapas, along with a full sandwich menu)
• Mulate's (family-oriented, fried seafood and cajun classics with a large, bright dance floor and experienced cajun band)

Marigny

Eats

• Adolpho's (Italian; upstairs above the Apple Barrel bar; hidden & romantic)
• Mimi's (bar with dancing upstairs, but the late-night tapas is the best part of the place)
• 13 (hipster cafe/bar open early to late; breakfast, pizza, sandwiches, several tofu options)
• Snug Harbor (classic jazz bistro; seats late on Fri/Sat)

Other

• Spotted Cat (mostly jazz, but some other offerings)
• DBA (mostly jazz; go watch the Sunday evening swing dancers)
• Apple Barrel (blues, songwriter, jazz, etc.)

Riverbend (where the St. Charles streetcar turns onto Carrollton Ave.)

Eats

• Camellia Grill (classic 24-seat marble-countered grill; no alcohol; weekend brunch line is out the door but worth it for the potato/onion omelet)
• Mat & Naddie's (newly wrought Louisiana)
• Dante's Kitchen (nice patio, brunch)
• Babylon Cafe (go for the good selection of eggplant and bean dips and the award-winning homemade bread)
• Jamila's (bellydancer on Saturday nights; great mussels)
• Fresco Cafe (patio; pizzas, sandwiches, salads, drink specials; neighborhood delivery)
• Cooter Brown's (sports bar; burgers, po-boys, fried seafood, raw oysters; get there early if it's football season)
• Boucherie ("Contemporary Southern Cuisine"; try anything they do with grits)
• Jacques-Imo's (try the alligator cheesecake appetizer)
• College Inn (a nola institution, famous "peacemaker" oyster po-boy)

Other

• Maple Leaf Bar (music; poetry reading on Sunday afternoons)
• Maple Street Books (cozy, well-stocked spot; children's bookstore next door)
• The Levy (walk or jog or take your dog)

Uptown

Eats

• Patois (great menu; locals' secret)
• Pascale's Manale (home of New Orleans-style BBQ shrimp)
• Audubon Clubhouse (breakfast, brunch, or lunch spot in the middle of Audubon Park; the food is simple, but you can't beat the view)
• Franky & Johnny's (boiled crawfish; boudin balls; fried seafood)

Other

• Columns Hotel & Bar (classic porch setting for cocktails; mellow music inside)
• Fat Harry's (bar; patio)
• Mayfair Lounge (buzzer bar; hipsters)
• Prytania Theatre (single-screen theater; classic movies on Wednesday and Sunday afternoons)
• Audubon Park (golf; long walking/jogging/cycling track)

Magazine Street

Eats

• Casamento's (seafood, raw oysters; closed during August)
• Lilette (trendy bistro; great appetizers)
• Ignacious Eatery (brunch, eclectic spins on Nola standards; moderately priced)
• La Petite Grocery (I recommend the handmade spaghetti and anything they serve with it, but the entire menu is well-made)
• Vicky's Corner Grocery (this "Grocery" really is a corner store, unlike the above; order the freshly fried shrimp po-boy--12" for $5)
• Byblos (local chain; Middle-Eastern favorites; great sandwiches)
• The Bulldog (beer garden with burgers and other bar food; dogs welcome)
• Whole Foods (yes, we do have one, and it's easy to stop by and take out some gumbo or local fish after a day of trolling the Magazine shops)

Other

• Balcony Bar (they serve bar food here, but we haven't sampled it yet...upstairs has the coolest vibe)
• The Rendezvous (not to be confused with other Rendezvouses in town, this one is bar-only)
• Funky Monkey (clothes finds)

where y'everything: a list of places to eat and more in new orleans