Bourbon Street

After some crawling up and down the hall, pushing the maid’s cart

and his stroller around, a nap is finally the order of the day.  Again, there is no fever, so I’m happy and waiting to see the new tooth that was the cause of the alarm.  I finally am able to write something for this blog and when John gets done with his first few sessions, we head out for dinner again.  This time, I want to go back to a restaurant that we passed on the first night  that was a hole in the wall looking place that claimed on the sign to have the “World’s best baked ham”.  Not, the best in the city or the state or even 

 the US, but the world’s best.  I had to find out for myself and while we waited in line trying to figure out what to order, John notices that one of the po-boys is named the John G.  He believes that he has to order this one since it has his name on it and he loves it to the exclusion of eating his fries almost.  I had to get the baked ham and got some red beans and rice as a side that I was going to give to John because I have never been a fan of red beans and rice, but I took a bite out of them for form’s 

sake and John didn’t end up getting very many.  It had pieces of ham in it and andouille sausage and was delicious.  Way better than my baked ham which was not even in the best hams that I’ve made, much less eaten.  I guess you can’t believe everything you read, but the meal was a success since Oscar ate John’s fries and the pecan pie that we got was a cross between a buttermilk pie and a pecan pie.  And by that, 

I mean it was so sweet and dense in the middle, not like the runny caramelized center that I’m used to.  Not that it was better, but it was different.  We leave dinner for a stroll down Bourbon Street.  Everyone appears shocked and a little surprised to see a stroller and a baby coming down the party street.  I understand it to some degree, but he’s a baby ya’ll.  The girl that was walking past topless didn’t really have to cover her

 breasts when she saw him, because he should still be eating out of those things at his age.  She should have covered them for everyone else…All Oscar noticed was bright lights, loud noises, and weird people everywhere.  He sits back in his stroller and just watches everything looking like he’s jaded already.  John gets a hurricane, but can’t seem to recapture the headiness of his first stroll down this street over a decade ago.  The naked girls aren’t hanging out of the bars anymore, (I guess they outlawed that or frown on it) and the drinks seem watered down.  It is a Thursday night and the city is still probably recovering from Mardi Gras, but sometimes things just don’t live back up to expectations.  We head back to the hotel down a quieter street with art galleries and incredible lighting fixtures.  John trying to maneuver the stroller through a shop with expensive stuff all around was downright comical.  But we didn’t have to buy anything because we broke it and were able to get our second praline from Laura’s Candies.  They have both Creole and plain, so we have to get both.  If I remember what the lady working there told me, the creole are made without any dairy products.  We’re planning on making a systematic review of the different companies to find the best ones in our eyes and the first one came from Magnolia Praline company.  So far the plain ones from Laura’s are winning, but they aren’t as good as the ones that mom and dad make at Christmas.