We were still in our formal wear at midnight when we got to the airport to pick up my niece and her 2 friends from college. We’d been dancing and dining at the annual Raintree Gala benefitting foster children and the families who care for them. We dropped the kids in the French Quarter and hoped they didn’t get in too much trouble on their Spring Break’s first night. We all enjoyed a tasty brunch at Wink’s Bakery the next morning, finishing our meal with super-tasty donuts and their famous Buttermilk Drops.
As Pelicans season ticket holders, we were invited to their annual appreciation day so we left the kids to the Quarter and headed to the Arena for a day of tours, games, lots of freebies and Pelicans players everywhere. Continue reading
As more and more people come to our fair city to film, I find myself increasingly anxious to explain New Orleans culture to the people of L.A., my former home of nearly 18 years. First, the name. Most people here don’t call it N’Awlins any more than they eat “blackened” things, but they never, ever call it New Or-LEENS. Except in a song. Let’s face it, nothing rhymes with Orleans. Try New Orlins (rhymes with fins). And if you need to find Tchoupitoulas, a local street, it’s Chop-a-toolis. Oh, and Burgundy is Bur-GUN-dy like Rodeo is Ro-DAY-oh. Continue reading
Every year, I look forward to/dread New Year’s Eve. I look forward to fresh starts and new attitudes and celebrations and fireworks and gatherings. I dread parking and crowds and the sinking feeling that I might have no one to kiss at midnight.
Once in a while, a perfect day comes along, a day even better than the one in your imagination. New Year’s Eve 2010 was such a day. Continue reading
When I was sitting on my couch in L.A. planning to move to New Orleans, I was open to many experiences of this city. I looked at a home in Mid-City, a neighborhood shifting identities in the last few years. I liked the idea of living across the street from City Park, home to an art museum, botanical garden, sculpture garden, a golf course and on and on and one of my favorite places in the city, the Singing Oak (which I call the Bing Bong Tree). Continue reading
Last night, I went to a wonderful restaurant, Upperline, owned and operated by the fascinating JoAnn Clevenger. Outside, it’s a lovely Uptown home with whimsical wild flowers; pink, yellow and orange with tiny tall stalks. Miss JoAnn has lived a storied life and the evidence is all over the walls of her charming gallery/restaurant. Continue reading