Way Down Yonder - Part 2

Photo by Jennifer Zdon from NOLA.Com.

From Dennis in the comments to my first Way Down Yonder post:

Dennis said...

when I was a little kid in Jackson MS back in the 70s my grandmother would take us down by train to New Orleans every December. We would do our shopping at DH Holmes (I would get a new DH Holmes blue blazer each year, plus other stuff) and then it was off to Galatoires. An odd Christmas tradition.

So today was a cold Puget Sound day but I was thinking how it didn't feel like Christmas and that got me thinking about New Orleans and DH Holmes and Galatoires.

And then I find out that you were there today.

Mimi when we do the second OCICBW... gathering in New Orleans we are going to have to do a trip to Galatoires.

All right, Dennis, you made me cry. That's how soppy sentimental I am about New Orleans. When I read the comment I recalled the glory days of Canal Street, when it was an elegant shopping street. Yes, folks came by train and by car to shop there with the locals. As Ormonde said in the comments, they even came by taxi from Thibodaux! The men wore suits and ties, and the ladies and children dressed in their best, which included hats and gloves for the ladies.

And just picturing how adorable Dennis must have looked in his little blue blazer is enough to make an old lady cry. There he is, a proper and well-behaved child, dining with his grandmother in the wonderful Galatoire's. The restaurant is associated with a number of traditions and is quite as rigid in upholding them as the Anglican reasserters with their "Faith Handed Down".

And then I find out that you were there today. It's karma, Dennis.

Galatoire's is still alive and well. We ate there a couple of years ago. The old D. H. Holmes building is now a Royal Sonesta Hotel. The facade is intact, including the clock under which many would meet their friends and relatives to go shopping. The word was, "Meet me under the clock at Holmes." A life-sized statue of Ignatius J. Reilly now stands under the clock. I have quite a story about the clock, but I'll leave that for another post.

The Holmes department store gave me one of my first jobs at the age of 16, as a sales girl in the Men's Furnishings Department, as they called it. The powers wouldn't let me sell suits, because that job required skills which I did not possess. And, then, of course, there was the measuring.

I sold lots of men's underwear, which was a tad embarrassing for this 16 year old teenager. I imagine that it was embarrassing for the men, too, although it's possible that a few loved the idea of buying their underwear from a young teenage girl. I remember a few smiles and humorous comments.

But, I digress.

Once we reached New Orleans, we headed for lunch at a small Italian restaurant, La Vita, which is near the New Orleans Museum of Art, where the Native American exhibit was on view. The restaurant was closed, even though, according to the sign on the door, it should have been open. We don't know if something went wrong yesterday or if the restaurant is gone for good. We couldn't decide where we wanted to eat, and while discussing it, we continued down Esplanade Avenue until we were outside the French Quarter. We decided that we would eat in the Quarter and go to the gold exhibit at the Louisiana State Museum afterwards.

Once we'd parked, the first restaurant we came to that looked inviting was The Court of Two Sisters, which was serving a jazz brunch buffet. We sat outside in the chilly courtyard, so we could hear the jazz combo, a clarinet and a banjo, while we ate. I quickly ordered my medicinal red wine to warm me up, and when that one was finished, I ordered another to stay warm. The food was delicious, just excellent. The most memorable dishes, to me, were pasta crawfish salad, salmon salad, duck à l'orange, sweet potatoes, bananas Foster, and whiskey bread pudding. However, all the food was good.

As we headed out of the restaurant, I found I was a bit tipsy from the two glasses of wine. That, plus my age, plus the uneven sidewalks in the Quarter are a recipe for a fall. Didn't I say somewhere that I was living dangerously at my advanced age of three score and ten, plus three years? My beloved sister, Gayle, broke her foot in the Quarter. I don't know if she was tipsy or not, but knowing her, she could have been. Fortunately, I did not take a spill.

We trekked on down several blocks away to see the gold exhibit at the Louisiana State Museum. The plate pictured is included in the collection. The details of the exhibit, including pictures are available at the website of the Louisiana State Museum. The exhibit was excellent, and included a good bit of the history of gold-mining. One item, which is not pictured, that I found intriguing was a gold penis cover from Peru. It was not similar in any manner to a codpiece but was shaped like a small trumpet, with the narrow end closed and pointing outward.

The exhibit included a scale on which you could weigh yourself and see the results in your weight in gold at today's prices. I'm worth $1,583,388, if you'd like to buy me.

The French Quarter was rather empty, more as I remember it from long ago, when all the tourists were not crowding the streets. That's the way I like it, but I know the restaurants, the merchants, the artists, the street musicians, and the tarot card readers are hurting. I have my problems with the street tarot card readers, and the artists do, too, as they share space. Street tarot card readers are relatively new to the Quarter and not really part of the long-time tradition.

All things considered, (which we listened to on the way home) it was a lovely day.