Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Grand Designs

I meant for that day to be a day of pleasures.

I woke up and went straight to Cafe Du Monde, again.  Beignets and coffee lose some of their shine on round 2 - it was still good, but it was basically a breakfast of donuts, powdered sugar and caffeine.  As it turned out, once was enough.

Since that experience had lost its shine, I took the next few steps along that path.  I'd been told I needed to go to Pat O'Briens and drink a Hurricane.  I had seen an absinthe bar in Pirate Alley that got my attention.  There was a teensy coffee shop with men who looked like they were from Portland serving coffee.

There was a balcony at the hotel that looked over Jackson Square, which was constantly filled with music.  I had been told I needed to try New Orleans spiced rum (link).  I noticed a cigar shop.  I had very little time left in New Orleans, and a plan began to take shape. I literally wrote it down.  I wanted to make sure I got in everything that I wanted to do.

Go to cigar shop, get a nice cigar.  Go to liquor store, get spiced rum.  Go to Pat O'Brien's and drink a hurricane.  Get coffee.  Go to pirate bar and drink absinthe.  Go to hotel in the early afternoon, drink rum and smoke cigar.  Stay at hotel, since I will be drunk.  Go out at night and explore, even if still drunk.

The summary...

I got a cigar from a very helpful man at a cigar shop about 2 blocks from Canal and Decateur - I wish I could remember the name, but I've lost my little red notebook and Google doesn't know about it yet (recently opened).  I stopped at an utterly generic liquor store on the way to Pat O'Briens and got a 40oz bottle of spiced rum (they don't sell smaller ones, and booze is cheap in the States).  I stopped in at Pat O'Briens and ordered a hurricane.

I'm just going to pause there.  A hurricane is a drink created during the time where in order to buy whiskey, you *had to* buy 20-50 times as much rum. It was designed to move rum as quickly as possible.  I watched the bartender (who kept calling me, and everyone else in the bar, "my love") pour 4 shots of rum into the glass.  4 shots.  I saw her do that, I thought about the absinthe and the rest of my plan for the day, and wondered if I was going to be able to pull this off.  I left early the next morning.  "Now or never," so the expression goes.  It was a decent drink, which is an accomplishment, considering how more than half the liquid in it was 80 proof alcohol.

My steps were faltering by that point, but I could still see straight.  As long as I didn't get behind the wheel of a car, I figured I would be fine.  Coffee was next up.

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