Sunday, February 5, 2012

Move Your Hips from Side to Side

Secret Agent Fred and I were scheduled to have a late lunch today cause mornings in general are so not good for either of us and Sunday in particular for dear Fred, seeings how they almost always happen after Saturday nights. Sure enough, 2:30 came and went, I ordered, he never showed and about 4:00 when we finally found each other he announced "I went to bed drunk, I woke up drunk and I got drunker." I took his word for it. He's an artiste, darling, these things happen. I suppose we should just be grateful he's not mixing laudanum with absinthe and quoting Baudelaire.

A shame he missed lunch cause it was deeeeeelish. It was at a new-ish cafe I'd heard about featuring New Orleans "French soul food," a description that made me suspicious at best. R Man and I had a long standing rule "Never eat New Orleans food when you're not actually in New Orleans." And yet, I must give them credit where it's due, this was great. Silky gumbo, perfect biscuits,, great coffee (with chicory!) and grits done just right. I miss grits terribly. Why San Francisco, which holds itself so proudly up as a gourmand's paradise, cannot produce a simple breakfast staple like grits on demand is beyond me.

Anyway, afterwards we dug up the only bar in town not broadcasting that stupid Super Bowl abomination. It was a mixed blessing since they were hosting some open-mic-karoke-cabaret thang and the poor, misguided creature attempting And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going should have been shot. Or drowned. Or both. Painful darling, painful.

To settle my nerves, when I got home I turned to the Queen of Soul from the year of ancient history when I graduated high school. Isn't this perfect? Complete with her Big Girl backup singers, Aretha and the opening bass line never fails to pull your pelvis into the groove. Rock steady, baby.


  1. Sometimes a little Aretha is just the thing.

    Portland is quite the BRUNCH town, come visit & will take you out.

  2. I used to have the most fabulous brunch in Georgetown (washington DC). cold lobtser and champagne.

  3. Brunch in Chicago always includes waiting in line, and that I simply can't abide, so I never go. Plus, it's always during the day, which is another huge strike against it.

    Stephen is right about Portland, of course. I wish I was there!

  4. I too am hesitant to eat New Orleans cuisine outside of NOLA but "Sammy's New Orleans Creole" restaurant in Toronto manages brilliantly to bring the taste of New Orleans to Canada.

  5. Well, the UAE is likely the brunch capital of the world - hotels vie for the biggest, most outrageous, and most extravagant. One just started that offers separate oyster, lobster, and caviar stations, and most offer what, given local sensitivities, is only ever referred to as "free flowing bubbly."

    But they're on Friday, which is the first day of the weekend, rather than Saturday, which somehow just seems wrong.

    And none of them feature Aretha, which really is even wrong-er...

  6. I never cared for brunch because I like my meals to be something certain.

  7. If loving brunch is wrong - kabuki don't wanna be right!

  8. I'm with Thom, who wants to wait for your first meal of the day? And La Diva is usually too hungover on Sundays to brunch!

    This video is even cooler because it includes legendary Don Cornelius with 'fro intact.

    I'm glad you had a great Nola dining experience outside of New Orleans! I went to a "cajun" restaurant in Sydney once (feeling a bit homesick) and spent the entire time schooling the staff on the correct pronunciation of Jalapeno (NO, darling the J is pronounced like an "h" not a hard J!) and informing them that green beans were NOT actually included in the category of "greens" just because they are all green in colour. sigh......

  9. PS: It's nice to see R Man in your title photo. xo

  10. Brunch occurs too early in the day for me to consider. And forget the frickin' mimosas -- if I have to pay those prices, I want Harvey Wallbangers or Sloe, Comfortable Screws!

    I have to ask whether you're sure that poor, misguided soul wasn't the former Mrs. Guy Ritchie doing her halftime show??

    Still, you're right -- if Aretha can't pull one's pelvis into the groove, no one can. Mix in the Stones' best and some B-52's for an instant dance party that's actually illegal in some states!

  11. I hasten to add that it's true, La Diva usually is too hungover for brunch. No matter what day it's on.

  12. Luckily New Orleans cuisine authentically stretches all the way down the Gulf Coast to Apalachicola.

    As does the drinking.

    Sadly Aretha doesn't do brunch crowds these days but you can always find a knock-off of her at many of the restaurants around here.

  13. Mother and I have a charming NE Atlanta ritual.. we go to Bagelious.. it's a tiny bit of New Yawk in Marietta GA.

    Since we've both given up the saturday night life for different reasons.. we try and get there before the church crowd lets out.

    We have a little joke about "beating the Christians", honestly it never gets old. Of course my internal visual is likely far different from hers.

    Happy Diamond Jubliee everyone.

  14. A. We must try this place next time I'm in town.

    B. Fred should stay with me when you're here. We can be trouble together.


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