Let's break it down: New Orleans is my jam.
Always has been since the first day
I stepped foot on its swampy foundation. Funny then that I've never really been one to celebrate its most iconic holiday - Mardi Gras
I attribute this mostly to the fact that I have never been in
NOLA for the festivities and thus fostered an affinity for it. I know about the plastic beads (and naughty things done to procure said beads), parade floats, excessive liver pickling, Bourbon Street crowds, and garish color schemes... Though for all I love about NOLA, these marks generally excite me the least. But then this year was different. Maybe I miss the dank scent of the Quarter, that high octane slushy daiquiri, and a little night music.
So this past weekend I celebrated the Angeleno way, at the Original Farmer's Market
under the shade of the Gumbo Pot
where locals claim tables as early as breakfast time on Sunday to have prime seats once the bands start playing and the afternoon beer starts flowing. I joined annual ringleader Lisa
early for coffee and beignets, and heavy bead sorting. I stayed until the Zydeco dance floor picked up as the sun went down.
|Spotted: Neighborly accoutrement competition.|
|One fancy kazoo.|
|Spicy Food. Cool Jazz.|
|King Cake, delivered to your doorstep.|
|The King Cake baby is found! And thus next year's host selected.|
For more on Mardi Gras, and my general love of New Orleans...
Listen to The Table Set: Gimme Some Beads!