Yesterday, Jason and I traveled to Magnolia Road and Savannah Highway - the look-at-me-I'm-the-so-hip-and-cool-little-brother-of-gentrification.
I had selected Marie Laveau's for dinner, one of three contestants on "What do you want for dinner tonight"? It just seemed fun to go to a restaurant named for the most famous voodoo queen in NOLA.
First off, I loved the funky chicken decor. I saw at least three paintings I could have cheerfully parted with major dollar signs to own. I loved the cajun music, it so reminded me of strolling down Bourbon Street, pretending to be shocked at the transvestite bars and other assorted weirdness that is Bourbon Street (there was one place where you could give your pole dancer a bath, seriously).
But the food! I had the soup of the day: shrimp bisque. So yummy I almost licked the bowl. But then came my entree, red beans and rice with andouille sausage. Oh, insert major Racheal Ray YUMM-O moment here. Orgasmically good. Eat still your stomach hurts good. Scrape every bit of leftover rice and beans into a take home box good. Made me wish I hadn't had the soup good.
Seriously. I know my beans and rice. You don't grow up po' white without beans and rice and smoked ham hock being a staple in your diet. "More protein than a steak," my momma used to say. These were some good beans.
Jason had the Tuesday special, a Lowcountry boil, looked like Frogmore stew to me, and he said it was very yummy also.
I've got to go back and try their Jambalaya. Swoon.
Loki sez: What? None for me?