Whenever you go somewhere people ask you how it was. Makes sense. When it comes to New Orleans I don’t really know what to say. On the one hand I found the legions of Americans in football jerseys double fisting Bud Lights at 11AM a bummer, on the other hand was Gallatoire’s. 

The food was heavy in butter and mayonnaise. It was my first time eating crab maison and also my last. The black drum amandine on the other hand was perfect. So were the potato beignets. You dip them in bernaise and then powdered sugar. They only serve 6 of these things, which is a smart move.

The atmosphere is all the racous fun you would want in New Orleans without people puking on the street. It seems the way to do it is to start the meal off with a sazerac and let the increasing volume of the room takeover. Jackets are required. Sam and I really showed our age when we had to borrow oversized blazers to be allowed into the dining room.

I left dinner that night feeling like there wasn’t much more to explore for me at night in New Orleans. That is the sign of a good meal.