Coast to Coast – New Orleans, LA

I knew, from the outset, that any cross-country road trip would have to include a stop in New Orleans. Not so much because it’s one of the most historied cities in America, nor for the amazing food, music, and parties it has. Not even so much for the support I wanted to give a city still being rebuilt 5 years after Katrina. No, my desire to was for one reason only: cocktails!

As a professional bartender, New Orleans is my Mecca. The birthplace of Peychuad Bitters and the world’s first cocktail: the Sazerac. But more poignant to me then the drinks, were the places where they were first served. Not the tourist trap haunts of Bourbon St. with its sugar-laced Hurricanes served in neon-colored yard glasses, but the REAL New Orleans bar scene. Places like The Napoleon House, Tonique, and The Old Absinthe House. Places where a well-balanced drink was a hand-crafted art revered by both barmen and patron alike, and the walls were as old as the country they inhabited. Yeah, that's why I was here.

Arriving in the late morning, we parked few blocks off Decatur St. in the French Quarter and walked down to the Mississippi river. With narrow stone-lined avenues backed by French townhouses and flowering 2nd story terraces, we could see and feel the cities unique and charming Creole character. As we walked, we could smell fresh bread coming from corner bakeries and and hear the buzz of a big city still stirring to life.

Following the advise of my father, we grabbed a table at Café Du Monte and welcomed ourselves to the Big Easy with an order of their famous beignet and fresh-roast coffee. As mid-day rolled around and the thermostat began to bob around 100 degrees we opted for a lazy stroll through the garden district and an afternoon in the shady recesses of Annunciation Park. After lunching at The Bulldog beer garden we took the rest of the afternoon off and napped back at the hotel.

Come evening, after the temperature had returned to early levels, we ventured back down to the French Quarter and I searched out my hollowed watering holes. We found them; The Carousel Bar, Antoine's, and The Sazerac Bar, with tuxedo wearing barmen, no cocktail menus, and perfectly measured libations. It is where every aspiring bartender should go to get their education.

After a few samplings, I was beginning to wonder if a bar-to-bar-to-bar evening was such a great idea seeing as though we had a 12 hour drive ahead of us the following morning, but, thankfully, I got side-tracked by one of our friends who lived in town.

She insisted on taking us out for a real Cajun meal, just what a man on the brink of sobriety needed, and after a country-size portion of gumbo and jambalaya, I had my second wind and we ventured back out into the lively night. As a volunteer in the recovery effort, our friend was well-informed of all the political and social issues, both past and present, and made for an excellent guide. As we crossed through Washington Square she shot us down an alley and we arrived at the front door of a non-descript music club where one of the most prolific jazz musicians in New Orleans, Kermit Ruffins, was putting on an unpublicized show. We literary walked right in and were standing in the front row. It was a great show.

We could not have asked for a better evening in the Big Easy and since it was our only one, we felt very lucky and considered it a perfect way to end our vacation. We would be on the road again in the morning and come nightfall we would be in Savannah, and at the end of our journey. But we wanted to savor tonight, and we walked a little slower on our way back to our hotel, taking in the sites, the air, the feeling of being a visitor in a new place one more time. Where everything is still fresh, still new, and you want to take it all it because you don’t know when, or if, you’ll ever be back. But like I said before, this is my Mecca, and I think I can make another pilgrimage or two before everything is said and done.