Frenchman Street (and other tales of New Orleans)

Day two of our New Orleans trip was our one full day in the city... and we certainly made it a full day. We began with breakfast at a place called Curio, where I enjoyed a delicious bourbon caramel french toast and my husband had chicken and waffles.

We then walked away from the French Quarter and over to Julia Street -- the arts district, where many galleries are clustered together within a few blocks. It struck me that you get to see a much wider variety of work hitting up several tiny galleries like this than when you go to a large art museum. Where the museum will have large exhibitions on a shared theme, the tiny galleries can be different from one wall to the next -- and very different from each other. We saw sculpture, photography, oil painting and more; realistic and abstract; kitschy and serious. And we did briefly flirt with the idea of buying a piece to display back at home. (The price tag, understandably, was more "you're decorating your home" as opposed to the "impulse vacation purchase" mindset I think we were in.)

After a short rest back at our hotel room, we started once more into the French Quarter. We were slowly working our way toward the French Market, expecting a number of great food options there. But (unfortunately, I suppose) we decided to cross "beignets" off the list by stopping at Cafe du Monde along the way. The beignets were delicious, of course... but also super-filling and packed with enough sugar to put us off wanting to eat for the next several hours. So even though the market had stall after stall of amazing looking food options, we wound up just window shopping through it.

Next, we curved our way out of the French Quarter and into the Faubourg Marigny neighborhood -- specifically to Frenchman Street. This is where both prevailing internet wisdom and my friends who had been to New Orleans agreed that you actually want to spend time (rather than Bourbon Street). The collective advice was spot on. We went into two different places, Cafe Negril and the Spotted Cat Music Club, listening to a set in each from a local band. Here's where the jazz was at -- yes, still pretty "tourist friendly," and certainly played by people with other day jobs... but still relaxing fun over the course of several drinks. (And had we been there a few hours later in the day, there would have been even more bars and clubs open with similar offerings.)

Finally we were in the mood for food again, which we wound up getting at Pat O'Briens (shrimp, once again) before heading over to a bar called Peychaud's -- named for the inventor of the particular style of bitters that's a key ingredient in New Orleans' signature cocktail, the Sazerac. A Sazerac is a kind of off-shoot of an Old Fashioned, but based on rye whiskey. A few splashes of other ingredients accentuate flavors in the rye: sugar, Peychaud's bitters, a lemon twist, and lastly (and this is the dealbreaker for many) a "wash" of the glass with a hint of absinthe. There was a time I could never have imagined myself going anywhere near even the mildest licorice/anise flavor, but what can I say? My tastes have been changing.

Still, not all Sazeracs are created equal, as I can personally attest having had them at locations all over the French Quarter over the course of a few days. The worse ones seem to assume "you're here for the absinthe" and overdo that wash of the glass. As you would hope from a place called Peychaud's, they had it right. We sat out back in their patio area and enjoyed a couple. And worth noting -- more ubiquitous in New Orleans even than the Sazerac is the "outdoor patio area." They usually feel like found spaces, wedged in between close buildings and completely hidden from the main street... but they're always decorated with lush greenery, and generally nice places to sit and have a drink. (Or a wedding. We saw a bride and her father here, preparing to walk to the next patio for her ceremony.)

After lazily passing the rest of our afternoon, we grabbed some random fried chicken from one of the many more "fast food-like" local options (Willie's Chicken Shack, if you're curious) before heading over to Preservation Hall. This venue offers short evening jazz shows (several each night) in an old restored building dedicated to, as the name suggests, the preservation of jazz. Crammed close onto benches (with more people standing in the back), we listened to a group of six play several standards and encourage the crowd to get involved. We sang along to the catchy "Little Liza Jane," a guest vocalist stepped in for a slow and haunting rendition of "Summertime," and ultimately we were all led in a dance line around the tiny space in an upbeat finale. You certainly don't have to pay to see jazz in New Orleans (but tip the band!), though if you're going to get a ticket, Preservation Hall was a good one.

A random stop or two on the way back to the hotel closed down our biggest day of the trip. I'll be back one more time with highlights of the final day.