Pour Me A Story, Vol. 38
the New Orleans Edition
hello there pals and welcome back to yet another edition of Pour Me A Story. in a turn of events we haven’t seen for a while, this issue of the newsletter is being prepared well in advance of the Friday morning send because, at the time of delivery, I’m (probably asleep) in New Orleans.
that’s right, the Big Easy. I’m down here for the weekend to catch up with a pair of high school pals who also live in the U.S. whom I haven’t been in the same room with since early 2018.
obviously now is not the ideal time to be on vacation, given the surge in covid-19 cases, particularly in Louisiana. but we booked it long before the Delta variant emerged and all we can do now is a) rely on the modern miracle of vaccination and b) trust our instincts when it comes to being safe. that’s all any of us can do, really. stay safe out there pals.
anyway, I decided this week’s edition will be NOLA-themed so as to distract you from the fact that I didn’t write it on the fly on Thursday night.
Everybody Remembers Their First Time
my first visit to New Orleans was in the summer of 2008 on my maiden voyage to the U.S. I may have mentioned this before, but it was on a coach tour of 18-to-35-year-olds with a company that has a reputation for partying. if that sounds insane to you, it’s because it is. anyway there were two buses travelling in tandem on this route that departed Los Angeles, drove through the South and up the east coast towards New York, and each bus had around 50 predominantly drunk-ass early-20s tourists from Australia, Europe and beyond.
I was excited for New Orleans because I was 21 years old, in the middle of reading A Confederacy of Dunces, and also loved Lil Wayne. truly inspirational stuff there. the city certainly got the best of me: I blacked out the first night and spent the second night in a hotel that certainly wasn’t mine, and I puked for the first time in 47 nights of drinking. the resulting hangover instilled me with a healthy fear of the Big Easy, and I didn’t end up returning until 2015, where an older and slightly wiser Adrian took it a little easier.
as fate would have it, though, my immigration journey almost landed me in New Orleans before anywhere else. in September of 2013, I was living in Denver with some friends temporarily while I awaited my green card interview back home. this was a certainty, but they had offered me their basement spare room for “as long as I needed.” I paid rent, I cooked meals for them, I generally did my best to be a respectful house guest.
“as long as I needed” ended up being “until your birthday,” when I was unceremoniously evicted by my friend’s husband for reasons I still really can’t fathom. I already had a return flight to Denver booked for after my green card interview in November, but it appeared my safety net had been pulled, so I had to figure something out fast. quick question: if you could move literally anywhere in this country, how would you decide where to go?
that was the conundrum I faced. I was so enormously spoiled for choice that the choice overwhelmed me. I was rescued by my friend Molly (whom you met in these pages), whose college roommate knew a guy in New Orleans who had both a room to spare in his house in Uptown and a potential lead on paid employment. over the course of a couple weeks, I went from “holy shit what do I do?” to “huh, I guess I’m moving to New Orleans?” I also lined up unpaid work with the late NOLA Defender, a local news blog, covering the Pelicans, and even got a piece published before I left Australia.
of course, as you now know, this didn’t quite pan out. I had a one-way ticket to New Orleans booked for the first week of December, but the Monday after Thanksgiving saw me riding up to Maine to interview for a role I subsequently was offered, and I had to cancel on my soon-to-be-roommate at the very last minute, which I felt terrible about.
I’ve definitely looked back and wondered what life would’ve looked like had I ended up there, but now that I’m no longer terrified of the city, it remains a fun place to visit for a few days. I’m too old now to survive living there, I think.
Anyway, We Have Company
this week we’ve got not one but two special guests, one who lives in New Orleans and the other who’s a native. I’ve had the good fortune to enjoy a beer with BOTH of our invited guests this week. we’re also trying something different in this edition, a “fast five” question-and-answer type of deal both for brevity and to make it easier to interview them both in advance via email. I think you’ll enjoy it; I know I sure did!
first up we have Chris Branch, the aforementioned born-and-raised Louisianian. I was lucky enough to have a brief beer or two with Chris the last time I was in town, in the spring of 2019, but before that we were pals via the wild web of folks known as Philly Twitter, but I wasn’t entirely sure how he fit into that network until now.
AC: we all have an origin story of some sort. how did you come to live in Louisiana?
CB: Born and raised! I grew up in Baton Rouge, an hour north of New Orleans. I took a jaunt up to Philly and New York for about three years after graduating from LSU and then moved to New Orleans in 2015. The only place I'd leave Louisiana for again is Philly, tbh. Philly has my heart but New Orleans is truly home.
AC: you see “laissez les bon temps rouler” all over the place in New Orleans. would you say that spirit really does permeate life when you’re living there, or is that something more geared towards visitors?
CB: It's both, man. It's funny, there really are phases for people who move here. Your first year or two, that spirit is your life, for better or worse. The food is amazing! You can take a drink anywhere! Binge binge binge! Then after a couple of years that wears off and you really start being a true resident of the city. You begin to complain about the streets or the city government and you think "Is it truly worth all this to live here?" And then you go to a Mardi Gras parade and realize you never want to leave. I'll deal with some inconveniences any day to enjoy the culture we have here. I dare anyone to walk in a street festival/parade of some sort here and tell me they don't want to live here forever. You can't find that spirit anywhere else in the world. So yes, it's for tourists, but us locals get to enjoy it, too, a lot of times in our own ways.
AC: I think most folks’ immediate word association for New Orleans is “jazz, booze, Cajun food.” what’s something you’ve learned in your time there that came as a surprise?
CB: Mardi Gras season in New Orleans is longer (and better) than outsiders see. For visitors, it's a weekend. For us, it's at least a month, if not more. It starts a couple of weeks after Christmas and just goes until whenever Mardi Gras Day falls on for a certain year. There are parades most weeks and the city is just fun as hell. Work schedules change. People take their kids to a parade on a Wednesday night and then shuttle them to school through leftover beads the next morning. Coworkers bring king cakes to the office (back when we went to those) every week and we all gain 20 pounds. When I grew up, we'd drive down for the big weekend just like any other tourist and then go home. Living it is so much better.
AC: what’s your favorite piece of locals-only wisdom or know-how?
CB: The best king cake is from a Vietnamese bakery 20 minutes outside of the city. Dong Phuong Bakery. Look it up, get ready to order one online for next year, and thank me later. People around here wait in line for hours just to get one.
AC: in your educated opinion, what’s something I absolutely should not go home without experiencing this weekend?
CB: You must go to the Country Club and hang out at the pool during the day one day. Great food, better drinks, and just an immaculate vibe, especially during the summer. You won't regret it. You should also go to JAM Nola, which is around the corner. It's a new museum that's just fun as hell.
Anyway, We Have More Company
our second guest is Katie de la Rosa, a fellow former Denver resident who relocated (or returned, as I’ve learned!) to New Orleans. we also met on Twitter but Katie would occasionally come by Capitol Hill Tavern while I was bartending to hang out for a couple beers, which really brings the overall theme of this newsletter full circle.
AC: we all have an origin story of some sort. how did you come to live in Louisiana?
KR: I was born in San Antonio, actually, but the story goes that my pops wanted a fresh start so he threw the four of us into an Oldsmobile, Beverly Hillbillies-style, and drove west. We stopped at a Super 8 Motel in New Orleans for three weeks, before backtracking west and landing in a mid-sized city called Lafayette, the Heart of Cajun Country.
It stuck; we stayed. And it was definitely meant to be—I'm very proud to be from South Louisiana. After college, I moved to Colorado for several years, an experience that unquestionably changed my life for the better (I met my wife, dog, Adrian, etc.). But the call of New Orleans had been in my ears my entire life, and only grew louder and more undeniable in recent years. I am happy to finally be home.
AC: you see “laissez les bon temps rouler” all over the place in New Orleans. would you say that spirit really does permeate life when you’re living there, or is that something more geared towards visitors?
KR: All cliches are rooted in truth, right? Life here is not what visitors envision when they hear that mantra—by no means are we all clamoring for tits 24/7. But this city is endlessly and effortlessly fun. The people here can make joy and humor out of anything, especially all the downsides to living here, like poor public infrastructure.
Like, the Mega Cone that appeared in a gigantic pothole in an intersection a couple months ago. It inspired a cult-following of adoring worshippers. It later mysteriously vanished, and then someone replaced it with an white "angel" cone to memorialize it. City crews have since paved and smoothed over that pothole, but that intersection will always belong to Mega Cone. So, it's those kinds of "good times" that roll, all the time.
AC: I think most folks’ immediate word association for New Orleans is “jazz, booze, Cajun food.” what’s something you’ve learned in your time there that came as a surprise?
KR: OK, let me quickly but relevantly digress: There's a bar/praline shop/I-actually-have-no-idea-what-the-fuck-it-is on Canal Street by the casino at the entrance of the French Quarter called Jazz Gumbo, with its logo being an alligator stirring a pot. I have adored this stupid shop for years. It appeals to the most surface-level, hackneyed understanding of Louisiana culture, and it has been standing strong for years. I love to hate it so much.
But, to answer your question, I wouldn't say that anything about New Orleans has surprised me. Of course our music is banging, the drinks are flowing, and the food is legendary (as a vegan in New Orleans, I am happy to report that our vegan food scene rivals some of the bigger cities in this country. Yet another reason to be proud to be here!).
But who's playing that music, mixing our drinks, whipping up that cuisine? The people—including natives, longtime residents, recent transplants, frequent visitors—are truly what this city should be known for. Creative, resilient, undeterred, gritty, beautiful fucking people. To be sure, I've met amazing people everywhere I've been and lived. But people in Denver would have attended a city council meeting about that pothole—not construct Mega Cone.
AC: what’s your favorite piece of locals-only wisdom or know-how?
KR: What I love about this question is that everyone is going to have a different answer. There's the classic but predictable "avoid the Quarter," which is only half true, and the "my spot is the best spot," which is only half true. But one very specific piece of advice I have is this: don't listen to anyone. This weird, chaotic city is best discovered on your own. Locals be (mostly) damned.
AC: in your educated opinion, what’s something I absolutely should not go home without experiencing this weekend?
KR: Without reservation or hesitation, my suggestion is you need to visit some of the most iconic neighborhood dive bars. My instinct is to call them a microcosm of what makes New Orleans unique, but there is nothing micro about their influence on New Orleans: They are New Orleans. The Saint in the Lower Garden District, Snake and Jake's Christmas Lounge in Uptown, Pete's Out in the Cold in the Irish Channel, Vaughan's Lounge in the Bywater.
Yeah, the riverfront in the Quarter is super pretty, and so are the magnificent trees and moss in Audubon and City parks. There is beauty with every step in this city—and in every musty, dark bar, as well. It's not about the booze or the late nights, but the undeniable magic, from the people and atmosphere and shared experiences hanging in the air, that make these places unlike anywhere I've ever been.
Oh, and Jazz Gumbo.
Worthy Consumables
the last time I was in New Orleans, in the spring of 2019 (which seems like…14 different lifetimes ago), Alex and I were visiting with a friend who had lived there for a big chunk of his teens and 20s.
we stayed in Bywater at The Lookout In, which was terrific and worthy of its own segment, but I simply must forge on. across the street-ish from The Lookout was Jack Dempsey’s, a restaurant not named for the late boxer but for a former New Orleans newspaper reporter.
after our first night of boozing, we dragged ass out of bed and went straight to Jack Dempsey’s when they opened at 11 a.m. for sustenance. I had the oyster po’boy and I still think about it now, more than two years later. the sandwich was so good that I went back the following night and placed an outrageously large carryout order to feed the crew plus a bunch of friends we’d made along the way who had returned to the bed and breakfast with us to party.
this hastily snapped photo below does not do it any justice, but I simply must insist that if you visit New Orleans, you wander over to Bywater and have a po’boy. I don’t think you’ll regret it.
Parting Note
well that’s it from me, friends. I hope you enjoyed learning about this week’s guests as much as I did, because I had a blast. anyway to send us off, here’s Lil Wayne and a song that helped get me intrigued about New Orleans all those years ago. until next Friday!
— adrian ✌🏻
love the double interview edition!
By the way, I heard two different people refer to a tank of propane as a “gas bottle” since the last edition and I’d like to retract my earlier comment.