Company's coming
"Right now we're driving over the levee that broke."
The traffic was crawling toward downtown on I-10 and I had started to zone out from a combination of heat, lack of sleep and back to back two hour flights. Still, a statement like that will wake you right up.
"You see that rust line over there?" the cabbie said pointing at a pipe on the noise barriers that lined the road "That's how high the water was all the way downtown". The line was at least six feet above the ground.
"Wow"
"Yeah....but we're comin' back now. We doin' good. We had a record crowd here for Mardi Gras. The people are startin' to come back"
New Orleans feels different this year. Last year it still felt like a city victimized. The crowds in the French Quarter weren't what they were when I had been here before Katrina. It seemed like boarded up or shuttered store fronts equaled or outnumbered operating businesses. There was an incredible sadness still hanging in the humid air. People, mostly people in service industries like waiters or cabbies would tell you a little of their post-storm experience and then stop because it was still too much to bear and because there was still too much uncertainty as to whether they or the city would make it back.
There is less of that this year.
Make no mistake, New Orleans is not all better. Some of it will never be all better. It still needs help. What it needs, and what it wants most, is visitors. Thank God, it appears that they are coming. With the returning crowds, there appears to be a shift away from desperation toward hope. Walking around town we've seen a lot of businesses putting on fresh coats of paint, doing maintenance, polishing and primping like proud homeowners awaiting a houseful of guests. I spent a few hours yesterday at my favorite local bar (you don't think I'm gonna give the name up, do you? It's a local joint!) watching the faded former Southern beauty of a bartender kibitz and boss the teenage busboys as they washed all the windows and dusted picture frames and polished mirrors. The pool table that I had remembered being next to the juke box was gone replaced by extra seating.
Company's coming. Clean up the house!
When our cab from the airport pulled up to the hotel, the cabbie said "I just want to thank you folks for visiting my city, you're helping us make it back." What do you say to that? A cynic might say that the guy is just playing on your sympathy for a bigger tip. Then again cynicism is sometimes a way to avoid thinking about something horrible that happened to thousands of people.
Today we had a driver who wanted to know where we've eaten, where we will be eating, and what we wanted to know from a local. I asked him where the best fried chicken in town was and he responded "Willie Mae's. What they do there is well, you know how fried chicken usually has a dry coating on the outside? Like you know how they put in the dry and then they put it in something wet and then they put it in flour or something before they fry it? Willie Mae's they fry it wet. Well, I mean they got a special batter they make, and they just dip the chicken in that and they fry it. You gonna spend an hour there if you go though because it takes them 55 minutes to fry a chicken breast. You know that guy from the Food Network, the Good Eats guy, Alton Brown? He was there last night. I picked up some girl she said she just took a picture with him."
"Isn't Willie Mae's in a bad neighborhood?" I asked.
"Not no more. You used to get some trouble from the housing projects near there. Flood took out those projects and they never came back. So now you just got nothing out there."
He handed us a local paper that listed the critics picks for best restaurants in town. While the Mrs. browsed through it I mentioned we had reservations for Cochon this evening and he said "Aw yeah, I drive the pastry chef to work there. Little girl. Good pastry chef".
In between all the food talk our driver mentioned that we should use his company (United Cabs) to get around because "Some o' them other companies they got newcomers and Ay-Rabs driving who will take you around in circles and run up the meter because they don't know where they're going. Me, I'll get you there quicker and cheaper".
Of course, his ride was a return trip from the zoo to the Quarter and cost $1.50 more on the meter than our trip out this morning had. Some things are universal, eh? I smiled, paid the same total I paid for the morning trip (hey, if the guy wants to donate part of his tip to the meter who am I to complain?) stepped out into the hazy Canal Street afternoon and smiled at the normalcy of it all.
The traffic was crawling toward downtown on I-10 and I had started to zone out from a combination of heat, lack of sleep and back to back two hour flights. Still, a statement like that will wake you right up.
"You see that rust line over there?" the cabbie said pointing at a pipe on the noise barriers that lined the road "That's how high the water was all the way downtown". The line was at least six feet above the ground.
"Wow"
"Yeah....but we're comin' back now. We doin' good. We had a record crowd here for Mardi Gras. The people are startin' to come back"
New Orleans feels different this year. Last year it still felt like a city victimized. The crowds in the French Quarter weren't what they were when I had been here before Katrina. It seemed like boarded up or shuttered store fronts equaled or outnumbered operating businesses. There was an incredible sadness still hanging in the humid air. People, mostly people in service industries like waiters or cabbies would tell you a little of their post-storm experience and then stop because it was still too much to bear and because there was still too much uncertainty as to whether they or the city would make it back.
There is less of that this year.
Make no mistake, New Orleans is not all better. Some of it will never be all better. It still needs help. What it needs, and what it wants most, is visitors. Thank God, it appears that they are coming. With the returning crowds, there appears to be a shift away from desperation toward hope. Walking around town we've seen a lot of businesses putting on fresh coats of paint, doing maintenance, polishing and primping like proud homeowners awaiting a houseful of guests. I spent a few hours yesterday at my favorite local bar (you don't think I'm gonna give the name up, do you? It's a local joint!) watching the faded former Southern beauty of a bartender kibitz and boss the teenage busboys as they washed all the windows and dusted picture frames and polished mirrors. The pool table that I had remembered being next to the juke box was gone replaced by extra seating.
Company's coming. Clean up the house!
When our cab from the airport pulled up to the hotel, the cabbie said "I just want to thank you folks for visiting my city, you're helping us make it back." What do you say to that? A cynic might say that the guy is just playing on your sympathy for a bigger tip. Then again cynicism is sometimes a way to avoid thinking about something horrible that happened to thousands of people.
Today we had a driver who wanted to know where we've eaten, where we will be eating, and what we wanted to know from a local. I asked him where the best fried chicken in town was and he responded "Willie Mae's. What they do there is well, you know how fried chicken usually has a dry coating on the outside? Like you know how they put in the dry and then they put it in something wet and then they put it in flour or something before they fry it? Willie Mae's they fry it wet. Well, I mean they got a special batter they make, and they just dip the chicken in that and they fry it. You gonna spend an hour there if you go though because it takes them 55 minutes to fry a chicken breast. You know that guy from the Food Network, the Good Eats guy, Alton Brown? He was there last night. I picked up some girl she said she just took a picture with him."
"Isn't Willie Mae's in a bad neighborhood?" I asked.
"Not no more. You used to get some trouble from the housing projects near there. Flood took out those projects and they never came back. So now you just got nothing out there."
He handed us a local paper that listed the critics picks for best restaurants in town. While the Mrs. browsed through it I mentioned we had reservations for Cochon this evening and he said "Aw yeah, I drive the pastry chef to work there. Little girl. Good pastry chef".
In between all the food talk our driver mentioned that we should use his company (United Cabs) to get around because "Some o' them other companies they got newcomers and Ay-Rabs driving who will take you around in circles and run up the meter because they don't know where they're going. Me, I'll get you there quicker and cheaper".
Of course, his ride was a return trip from the zoo to the Quarter and cost $1.50 more on the meter than our trip out this morning had. Some things are universal, eh? I smiled, paid the same total I paid for the morning trip (hey, if the guy wants to donate part of his tip to the meter who am I to complain?) stepped out into the hazy Canal Street afternoon and smiled at the normalcy of it all.
Comments
Hope you are enjoying the food.