Would You Like a Little [Shrimp/Grits/Bread] With Your Bowl of Butter?

Our roly-poly selves are back in Boston after four glorious nights in New Orleans, where we did nothing but eat, eat, eat, with an occasional break to have a drink and listen to music. From the "original" barbecue shrimp at Pascal's Manale (where our server Louie, with the sweetest Southern drawl, was dead on that the pecan pie had to have ice cream on it and where we discovered, to my chagrin, that they will ship bbq shrimp anywhere in the country) to the beignets at Cafe Du Monde to the shrimp remoulade and crab sardou at Galatoire's (that's pronounced "Gala-twa" by everyone we met and where Reynard took good care of us, even as a brawl broke out at the table behind us) to the eggs and grits at Camellia Grill to the raw oysters and beer at Cooter Browns to the deep fried stuffed crab at R & O's to the shrimp and alligator sausage cheesecake at Jacques-Imo (where the wait was two hours and worth it--at least for us. Not so much for the table next to us who waited two hours, sat down and ate their melt-in-your-mouth cornbread, and then had to leave because the woman started throwing up all those pretty color drinks she'd had at the bar. That's some wait for cornbread!). We had hurricanes at Pat O'Briens, beers at Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop, the Columns, and Igors, and a Cajun martini at Olde N'awlins Cookery. For entertainment we went on a walking tour of the Garden District, where we learned how they reuse the plots in the cemeteries, wound our way through the French Quarter, stopping for hand-rolled cigars, and took a long walk along the antique shops on Magazine Street. We saw Kermit Ruffins play at midnight at Vaughn's and some unknown band at Cafe Brasil. We went with Adam's college roommate to a private party at Preservation Hall and managed to still have time to hang out with my cousins and my aunt and uncle. All in all, an action packed few days, and I'm now more then ready for a quiet new year.