After the jogging tour, we hurried to suck down more of the sweet nectar of the gods (water, all the water…so hot) and then went back to the hotel to shower (you’re welcome, citizens of New Orleans).
The Wife has a high school friend who lives in New Orleans so we met her at Deanie’s. (Bonus, this friend came with her ADORABLE baby in tow.)
Deanie’s was good food but definitely heavy Southern eating. Eat some antacid before you go. I ordered the Crabmeat Duo, because I am dumb. Don’t get me wrong, it was obviously delicious. How can you go wrong with crabmeat au gratin and “crab dressing balls”? Well, you can’t until you don’t stop after a few bites and you eat the whole thing. Then you end up feeling like you’re going to die. Yes, Internet, this was yet another example of me overrating in New Orleans. At least I’m consistent.
After lunch, we went back to the hotel and lounged a bit. Eventually we worked up the energy to do some more French Quarter shopping and exploring.
That meant it was time for THE HAND GRENADE. The Hand Grenade is sold at a few locations on Bourbon Street and touts itself as “New Orleans’ Most Powerful Drink.”
What does it taste like? Like no substance found in nature. Like no combination of substances found in nature. It was pretty revolting. I choked down a small (at least it was cold!) and then felt remarkably tipsy. As in, uncomfortably tipsy in all stores with breakable objects, which, unfortunately, is a lot of New Orleans.
After an afternoon of trying to get sober, we reverted course and got an indulgent dinner and drinks. For dinner, we went to the Old Coffee Pot. Honestly, their gumbos were good and borderline great, but the rest was forgettable.
For drinks, we went to Pat O’Brien’s for the famous Hurricanes and bread pudding. The bread pudding was delectable. The Hurricanes were a mistake. I know they are famous, but they are really and truly disgusting. And expensive. It was so sickeningly syrupy that we all were adding water to the top after each sip. Eventually it tasted almost like a reasonable drink, but you’re still better off ordering ANYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD. The only plus is that their outside patio was quite lovely and relaxing.
As we nursed our sugar comas and disgusting drinks, we moved into the piano bar area. The players were all fantastic and they did a great job of playing requests, but they sped up the tempo of every single song. It was really and truly annoying. Have you ever heard Piano Man at double speed? Yeah, not so satisfying. I understand that the more songs they get through, the more money they make in tips, but my god people, just don’t play the last verse when it’s clear the crowd isn’t into it. If it’s a good song, play the whole thing at a normal pace!
After requesting songs and being repeatedly frustrated by the quick tempo at which they were played, we eventually went home. It was a good night–the piano bar was a good choice for our mult-igenerational group–but we had a long day and a flight the next day.