1109 Decatur St
New Orleans, LA 70116-2605
(504) 525-9053
Coops Place is renowned as one of NOLA's best places to get fried chicken. The kitchen churns out huge quantities of spicy batter-fried bird at regular intervals, feeding a mixture of big-eyed tourists and pissed off looking, mildly soused locals. It's a fine place to down a couple of drinks and eat some interesting, if not always successful, bar food. Specialties include rabbit jambalaya, marinated crab claws, lamb ribs, and whatever the chef is in the mood to scrawl up on the blackboard. Good conversation too, and jars of pickled okra.
Met a guy at Coops the other day, who used to work the switchboards for a major phone company, I'm not going to tell you which one. He told me about how he'd listen in on Christmas Eve, to parties all over the world. One night he heard the oompah band and the click of beer steins from Hamburg, in his Metarie office. Saudi Arabian men would always call him "Dear," in gentle voices, regardless of the date or holiday. O Holy Night. Someone's got to keep the phones working.
Regardless. I came in for Coop's to grab a bowl of gumbo and chat, and that's what I got. Coop's gumbo wasn't that great this go-round. I had it before and it was really tasty, some of the nicer seafood and okra gumbo I've had in the quarter. This was a bit lukewarm and didn't have too much of that unctuous voodoo flavor. Asked the lady for extra seafood, which you can do for a buck extra, and I guess she didn't hear me. No Crystal hot sauce on the table either. When you're forced to use Tabasco, it's kind of a cognitive shift. But I made it on through.
The search for the gumbo that will break my heart/and or end my life/some combination therein continues. I suspect the end of the quest resides in a shack somewhere in a dark swamp, a shack that can only be reached by charming a five legged albino alligator.
I think I'm too lazy.
