Worst Restaurant Behavior

I wasn't going to do this, but I have to know. Working on an article and would love to hear your stories...

Worse restaurant behavior (staff or patrons) you've ever witnessed? Sex at the table? Food fights? Temper tantrums? Running out on the bill?

Email me, or post, whichever... but I need all the juicy, gorey, details...

Inspirational Food

So my mom was in the hospital. Major surgery. Nothing optional or cosmetic. (Which begs the question, why would someone choose to go under the knife?)

Anyway, it sucked. It sucked that they said she would bounce back and go home the next day and she didn't, (not that day, or the day after that, or the day after that). And it sucked that she had trouble breathing without the oxygen after the surgery and they started casually throwing around terms like, Cardiac Failure, and Pulmonary Disease and asking me questions about whether or not she smoked. (She doesn't.) It sucked when they couldn't control her pain, and when they were convinced she had a blood clot. And it sucked that we had two earthquakes while she was there, just in case my insane imagination didn't run wild enough already. It was harrowing, but it's over and now she's home and recovering nicely with long baths, wall to wall flowers, old movies and organic produce.

And nobody asked me, but I have to say, surgeons are really weird. I think if you're going to take a knife to a stranger's body, you should have to spend a day with them. An entire day, meeting their dog and watching them garden and observing what they like for lunch. "Hi, I'm ____, and I'll be operating on you. Start to count backwards from 100..." doesn't work for me AT ALL.

Anyway, you want to hear about the food, right?

Yucky. She ordered (when she was awake enough to order) and usually fell back into sleep afterwards, forgetting what she ordered. It would arrive on these hunter green tupperware-like dishes. Nothing was appealing, so we tried to get her to eat things that wouldn't be overly ambitious, mashed potatoes, applesauce, sherbert, a popsicle, lemonade, toast. But honestly it was all pretty awful. Maybe it's true, doctors use hospital food as a motivational tool to get you out of the damn hospital bed, and on to better meals, savored with friends and family who are insanely giddy and relieved that you're better.

After Beignets.

After Beignets.
Originally uploaded by view from the kitchen.

Two fisted, water and cafe au lait.

Beignets.

Beignets.
Originally uploaded by view from the kitchen.

Powdered sugar. Heroin for pidgeons.

ACME

ACME
Originally uploaded by view from the kitchen.

Just another view of Acme.

You've Seen These Guys...

Thought provoking piece on Waiter Rant...

More Nola Highlights...

More from the Nola trip... I went to Croissant D'Or. New owners but same staff. Everyone is worried the fabulous french bakery will change, but I think they are in safe hands. The only sign of change I saw was the cheesy, wall mirrors were being taken out, revealing the wonderful interior. I had a Chicken Friand, chicken, garlic, vegetables and bechemel sauce wrapped in croissant with a cafe au lait over ice. It was wonderful.

At lunch we tried Johnny's Po Boy, for oyster po'boys and muffellettas, and of course Barqs root beer. They have the old style bottles with the killer logo and slogan, "Drink Barqs. It's Good." Can't beat that. We had to go by Laura's Candies for dark chocolate turtles. Hard to beat.

At Rita's we had stuffed shrimp and artichoke and oyster soup. Although, rather mysterious, there were no oysters to be found. Which was fine, since we were on shellfish overload anyway.

We indulged in cafe au lait and biegnets couple of times, at Cafe Du Monde. If you ever want to study the effects of sugar, you should check out the freaked out, frazzled pidgeons that land on the deserted tables and scoop up as much powdered sugar as possible. They barely look like birds.

Nothing Rhymes with Oyster

We kinda hit the ground running in Nola. Dumped our bags and headed to Iberville and Bourbon Street for Acme Oyster House. We bypassed the line by sitting at the bar, which isn't the bar but the oyster bar. These guys are lined up behind the bar, shucking oysters one after the other, sliding their blunt knives into the shells and popping them open, then they make this clever little sliding move putting the knife under the oyster to loosen it from the shell completely, slap it on a brown tray that could have been in your school cafeteria. And lemme say, these guy's forearms look like Lance Armstrong's calves. We watched as one of the shuckers uncovered a six inch oyster. A woman at the other end of the bar ate it while they goaded her on. It looked like she swallowed it whole. I think she was drunk and wondered if she regretted it later. I'm sure she would look like my grandma's cat trying to cough up a hairball later that night. Ugly. I had fried oysters. I wasn't brave enough to go raw with the baby pear. They were still remarkable, salty, briny with a flavor like an answer to a question that hasn't been asked yet. I loved every single bite. I ordered a side of hush puppies too. The hot sauce is HOT, cheek flushing, nose running, ears ringing hot. Damn. I can barely stand to write about it, knowing it will be a while before I eat them again.

Where Y'At?

In New Orleans eating my heart out and taking scrupulous notes. I'll be back with details... Stay tuned!