Thursday, February 12, 2009
So I returned to Deanie's for supper after Krewe du Vieux and I still really like it. It's clean, low-key, and has excellent, friendly service, as well as a good menu and even better prices. I'll happily recommend it to just about anyone, and those broiled oysters are yum-yum delicious.
I had the seafood salad with broiled shrimp, lump crab meat, marinated artichokes, and fig-balsamic dressing and it was exceedingly tasty. I generally do not like iceberg in any way shape or form but it is acceptable and even yummy when applied to a real thing seafood salad. I also just plain love the fig-balsamic dressing here: it's thick and delicious, almost like a compote. One flaw: Deanies for the love of God do not put cheddar cheese on a salad, it is wrong and a crime against humanity. Or I could just tell em' not to put it on next time, but whatever, that would take effort.
Anyway, about Krewe Du Vieux!
So I've never experienced a Mardi Gras Parade in my life, unless you count St. Patricks Day when I was four years old (and that didn't really count, although I still have some of the beads.)
Therefore I was super excited for Krewe du Vieux last Saturday - the first parade of the season, the first shindig of the year. "Everyone's starting to feel carnival coming on," a friend of mine told me as we discussed, "everyone's going to start getting weird."
Krewe du Vieux is supposedly the bawdiest of the New Orleans parades, mixing satire with outright horniness, glowing giant dildos with existential humor and free stuff. This year's theme was The Stimulus Package and every float (drawn by mules) was a variant on the themes of financial hard-times/ being forcibly entered and outraged by the federal government. People dressed up like alligators, great white sharks, giant animate penises, Monopoly-men with tremendous F-sized boobies and god knows what else. I got plenty of beads mostly for existing and was only molested once or twice and I probably deserved it anyway.
I ended up really getting into the spirit of things and jumping right into the parade, wherein I ended up dancing behind a really excellent jazz band all the way down Royal and halfway up until Decautur. I danced around like a total idiot (not even drunk) and merrily danced up on various individuals I had never met before in my life, including but not limited to frat boys, kinky grandmas, squealing sorority girls and souls sista's, all of them appreciating my own unique Funky Butt. I was so proud of myself when some tourists looked at me and said, knowingly, "Oh she must be from around here." I guess I sort of am now - what a thought.
Frat boys: you may look but you may not touch unless explicitly invited DO NOT FOLLOW ME INTO THE PARADE HE-LLO.
Krewe du Vieux photos here!