Also, happy 28th birthday to me!
As it so happens, my birthday conveniently falls on one of the biggest party days of the year. New Year's Eve birthdays aren't that uncommon, really - I've met probably half a dozen other people who share my birthday, including one aunt, two coworkers, and a neighbor, as well as Ben Kingsley, Henri Matisse, and John Denver (none of whom I've actually met, but I'd like to think sharing a birthday makes us honorary friends).
Aside from the dreaded birthday/Christmas present combo (which really doesn't bother me. Truly, I have enough stuff already), there are three primary reasons why I absolutely love my birthday:
- I always have the next day off, along with most of the rest of the world, so I never have to worry about staying up too late, rescheduling festivities, or not having a recovery day.
- I never have to throw my own birthday parties. Everyone is already in the mood to celebrate, so there are plenty of options for celebrations to crash with minimal hassle.
- It provides a lovely clean start to the year. New year for the world, new year for me!
Usually I prefer to let my birthday play second fiddle to the calendar's (it has seniority, after all), but this year I was feeling feisty and wanted to do something special, so Mignon found us a couple of tickets to New Orleans, booked beds at a hostel, and we headed out for the home of Cajun food and street jazz.
There is a wonderful Tennessee Williams quote which gets a great deal of mileage in the multitudinous NOLA gift shops: "America has only three cities: New York, San Francisco, and New Orleans. Everywhere else is Cleveland." Although I've never been to Cleveland, I can see where there is some truth behind Williams' playful hyperbole. As someone who has spent a lot of time in various American cities, most of them can be mistaken for each other relatively easily aside from a few tell-tale signs. Not so with New Orleans.
From the voodoo shops and beautiful old houses with the wooden shutters, to the trolleys with the faulty light fixtures and the drag queens hollering about drink specials on Bourbon Street, New Orleans has a feeling all of its own. Unlike most places, which sometimes seem manufacture culture out of hoodies and coffee table books, here it seems to boil up from under the sidewalks and breath through the shutters and unruly window-boxes of the colonial-style buildings, and everything from the gift shops to the abundance of horn players seems to have sprung into existence spontaneously to preach the gospel of this place.
We wandered the streets and antique shops of the Garden District, where the shopkeepers speak French, a quiet, old world culture still hums, and the sidewalks are in the process of performing a quiet disappearing act, slowly eaten away by the roots of the beautiful, ancient trees under their blankets of moss. We ate beignets at Cafe Du Monde, walked along the bank of the Mississippi, and meandered the aisles of the bewitching Beckham's Bookshop - a second-hand bookstore on Decatur with such delightful genre titles as "True Crime & Rascality," where the old man who runs the place sits up front with his book and pencil in hand, quietly marking prices and guiding people through the mis-matched, labyrinthine aisles of the store.
We capped our visit with a magnificent Creole feast at the Gumbo Shop, with black beans and rice, corn, creamed spinach, gumbo, and bourbon bread pudding; we ate until we were full to bursting, went back to Cafe Du Monde and ate some more, and then went and fed our spirits with a long night of jazz at the Spotted Cat.
Above all, New Orleans is entirely unapologetic. It exists exactly as itself, with no accommodations or excuses; there is no scrubbed, sterilized tourist experience here. The streets are dirty, the parties unruly, the homeless mingle freely with the crowds everywhere you go. As it hums with the bone-deep history of a culture which found itself long ago, no concessions are made for your comfort as an outsider - NOLA has a life to live, and you are in her house.
There are more praline shops than I could count, and you can buy liquor in any corner store or Walgreens, but, alas, New Orleans is not know for its chocolate. Fortunately, my sweetie provided just the thing: bourbon barrel aged chocolate from the heart of Brooklyn, New Orleans' brassy spiritual cousin. The dark, boozy bar was just the thing to complement our explorations of the city.
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| Photo Credit: chocolatepath.com |
We didn't stay in Louisiana for New Year's Eve, although I'm sure the NYE party on Bourbon Street is second only to Mardi Gras. It didn't feel right to be away from home for the start of the year. So, we returned to Texas on the afternoon of the 31st for a more local birthday/New Year's Eve celebration. After a truly endearing party with balloons, party games, ginger beer, a purple tiara, and a hatchet (wait, whaaaat?), we headed into Fort Worth to watch the fireworks at Sundance Square, and I got to ring in the new year with some of my very favorite people in the whole world.
I don't tend to believe in resolutions, but I do have some goals for the year; I'd like to be more generous to my friends with my time and energy. I'd like to spend more time on writing and music. I'd like to travel. Talk less about the weather and more about life, the universe, and everything. Be more diligent about practicing yoga, gratitude, and guitar. Maybe look into going back to school.
I love this life so very much. 2016 is going to be a good one, guys. I can feel it.
Item: Bourbon Cask Aged
Percentage: 82%
Made By: Raaka
Made In: Brooklyn, NY
Purchased At/Price: (Gift)
Review: At 82%, this bar is pretty stiff - not for the faint of heart. Still, it's quite rich, melts smoothly, and the bourbon/chocolate pairing is a match a made in heaven. This is particularly fruity, tough chocolate with a strong, clean bourbon finish - very good stuff. There is actually no alcohol in this bar, which makes the flavoring even more remarkable - the beans are simply aged for four weeks in bourbon barrels, where they take on some of the boozy, woodsy flavor the previous tenant. That said, several other folks who tried it said they didn't get as much bourbon flavor as I did, so maybe I was just looking for it.I haven't tried much un-roasted (or "virgin") chocolate, but it does seem to give the beans some room to retain their character. Must experiment further.
RECOMMEND
With love,
- K
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