Matt and I just got back from a fantastic trip to New Orleans.
Now, we recognize that NOLA is generally known for gross excesses of drink and drug, widespread debauchery, and street crime...none of which we are particularly inclined to participate in. We're married; our days of debauchery are far behind us--and, let's be serious, my college debauchery mostly took place within the confines of the Science Library, which is to say, was minimal (...maybe non-existent).
These days, a wild Friday night at Casa Durham Salad Days typically consists of eating a salad on the couch, watching two episodes of The Office streaming on Netflix, and staying up until maybe midnight (*gasp*) looking at Completely Stupid Stuff on the Internet. Glamorous life we do lead.
But, if there was one thing we could get behind in New Orleans, it was the food. We were bound and determined to spend four days eating like we'd never eaten before, embarking on gluttony so magnificent that a new word would need to be created to fully encapsulate the popping-the-buttons-off-of-our-pants spree of gastronomy we were about to begin.
After our first meal (lunch at Elizabeths's -- Matt had chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and green beans, I had a catfish po' boy with sweet potato fries), I had the great idea that we should photo-document everything we eat.
At that point, Matt's plate was licked clean, but there were still some morsels on mine.
Somehow, despite this genius idea, we both immediately forgot about the rigors of journalism by dinnertime, at the Palace Cafe. As we were waiting on the bill, I finally remembered. (These are the remains of a white chocolate bread pudding and a Mississippi Mud pie...we were so disgustingly full, we couldn't even finish dessert.)
Now, after Day 1, we wholeheartedly and completely forgot about taking any pictures of any food...though we did eat a ton. However, I did manage to notice the following inscription on the sidewalk as we were ambling though the Faubourg-Marigny: