Eating My Way Through New Orleans: 10 Days in the Belly-Stuffing Big Easy | Slashfood
A massive muffuletta in New Orleans.
This story was originally published in 2010 in Slashfood. RIP, website.
I need a salad like you wouldn’t believe. Or some nice sliced fruit. Such are the repercussions of spending 10 days in New Orleans, a city that’s apparently never met a vegetable it didn’t deep-fry or flavor with fatty swine.
While New Orleans is slowly, steadily recovering, there’s one sector that’s stronger than before the storm: the restaurant industry, with more than 1,000 restaurants open today—the most at any time in the city’s history. So with an iron stomach and a fistful of Tums, I dove into New Orleans' eats and drinks. Here are my 10 favorite places where I parted my lips.
1. Ms. Mae’s
There’s one very good reason to visit this dark and smoky dive bar -- the drink prices. Twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year, Ms. Mae’s serves serious strong cocktails for a buck. A double? Two dollars. On sunny days, I recommend bringing a whiskey on the rocks outside and sitting on the green bus bench.
2. Merlin’s Place
A thigh-pumping bike ride led me to Merlin’s Place, announced by a three-dimensional black bovine. Cow is a must-eat at Merlin’s, namely the house-cooked roast beef. It’s sliced thin and layered on a toasted length of bread, then dressed with shredded lettuce, pickles, tomatoes. It’s juicy, crunchy genius. The beefy, well-spiced tamales are tops too.
3. Cure
The best cocktails in New Orleans are poured at a converted firehouse far uptown. Civilized, stylish and slightly quirky (check the bug posters), Cure traffics in meticulously prepared elixirs concocted with fresh ingredients and house-made tinctures and bitters. My favorite? The bracing Zingi, incorporating apple brandy, ginger, lemon, green cardamom and a curl of orange peel.
4. Lüke
Hidden inside the Hilton St. Charles hotel, chef John Besh’s bright, lively brasserie has a secret: every weekday, from 3pm to 6pm, oysters cost a quarter and drinks less than $10 are half price. Lüke was my afternoon hideaway. I’d suck down a dozen oysters, then slurp several pints of their crisp and fresh locally brewed German beers. Total bill: less than $10.
5. The Joint
Deep in the artsy Bywater, not far from the mighty Mississippi, sits this stupendous BBQ joint. Arrive early, lest the funky, colorful restaurant runs out of its gnaw-worthy ribs, tender pulled pork, lusciously fatty brisket and long-smoked chicken. Get a side of creamy mac and cheese, too. Oh, and yes: You want a slice of key lime pie.
Homey, family friendly Elizabeth’s specializes in rib-sticking Southern fare that'll curtail your life expectancy. Fried chicken livers are paired with a zippy pepper jelly; burgers are crowned with blue cheese and sweet-crunchy praline bacon; and French toast is stuffed with strawberries and cream cheese. You may die early after dinner, but you’ll die happy.
7. Parasol’s
Much to my stomach’s chagrin and pleasure, this elbow-worn neighborhood bar sat two blocks from my home. That meant I could stumble in, grab an icy Abita beer, then head order a sloppy, marvelously messy po’ boy laden with gravy-drenched bits of roast beef. It’s a six-napkin sandwich, made doubly decadent with a side of gravy-slathered fries.
8. The Bulldog
Craving a quality craft beer (and finding the estimable Avenue Pub shuttered for renovations), I instead hit this pooch-themed tavern to try some of the 50-odd beers on draft, including offerings from local outfit NOLA Brewing. While its Blonde is a little blah and light, the Brown was smooth and caramel-kissed and the Hopitoulas IPA sated my craving for bitter, West Coast–style IPA—a rarity in New Orleans.
Anointed an American classic by the James Beard Foundation, this lunch-only spot has attracted swells of tourists to sample its fried chicken. No matter how long the line—and there will be a line—this bird is worth the wait. It’s cooked till deeply brown with a crust as brittle and crunchy as Rice Krispies, though the flesh remains tender and moist. I ripped every shred of fowl from the bone like a feral beast.
10. Verti Marte
When I had two beers too many, I’d hit this cramped 24-hour deli for a lovably sloppy po’ boy to set me straight. The "mushroom mountain" is a winner, and the French fry–packed version is curiously satisfying. But I most loved All That Jazz. Grilled ham, turkey and shrimp are topped with Swiss and American cheeses, then swabbed with creamy, zippy “wow” sauce. A hangover doesn’t stand a chance.
