Since I have a small immediate family and come from a long line of domestically disinterested folks, we usually go out of town for Thanksgiving. This year we went to New Orleans, my spiritual home. We enjoyed local beverages at Crescent City Brewing Company, a few fancy cocktails at the Peacock Room at the Kimpton Fontenot Hotel, a delicious brunch at Court of Two Sisters and some other adventures.
One of the more amazing ones was discovering that the parade for the Bayou Classic football game went right by our hotel. I took Smalls down and gave him his first lesson in throw catching. He did excellent, with a little gentle coaching (1. If you miss it, let someone else have it, there are more coming. 2. Don't pick up beads off the street, that's nasty!).
We hit the Audubon Aquarium and saw the white alligator with blue eyes and a wad of fur that they said was a sleeping baby sloth. For some reason, I forgot to take a picture of the gator, but you can tell me what you think about the furwad/sloth. We rode the streetcar down Canal, until the wheelchair elevator broke and we had to get off. So we walked down to City Park then to Morning Call for beignets and cafe au lait and caught a different streetcar back. That evening, we went to the Sazerac house for a self-guided tour and free samples. Always an excellent time and the gift shop is a wonderland of adult libations. Afterwards, since the French Quarter was a madhouse with everyone coming in for the Saturday football game, we Ubered out to Metairie for a magnificent dinner at Drago's.
Saturday morning, we headed back towards home with heavy hearts and even heavier bellies after our final breakfast of shrimp and grits at the Ruby Slipper in Mid-City.
Bob Dylan said it and I believe it. "There are many places I like, but I like New Orleans better."
