In her early 20's, The Kitten had a job teaching teenagers to sail in the Caribbean. It was where she met her late husband, and where she met an incredible bunch of people who would grow up to be the core of her friend group today. They've accepted me into their circle, and I have developed close friendships of my own among them.
One of these folks actually attended UVA with me, though our paths never crossed. He met his wife there, and the two of them ran the UVA sailing club, which led to their teaching sailing in the Caribbean, which led to meeting The Kitten....
He had his 50th Birthday this weekend, and it was quite the bash. Held in New Orleans, a group of about thirty total consisting of friends and family got together at a gorgeous old hotel for a continuous, three day bacchanal in a city known for such things. A few take-aways?
First, New Orleans is a wonderful place to destroy one's dietary discipline. I ate like a swine, and it is only due to my having eschewed alcohol a long time ago that I did not add 10 lbs this weekend. Also, a prodigious amount of the food I ate consisted of raw oysters, which are pretty low calorie. The birthday boy had raw oysters for lunch on Saturday, hours before his party. Mistake. He had the trots all day and evening, though he certainly rose to the occasion.
Second, New Orleans--especially at night--can be a smelly place. A hint of the mixture of horse manure and human vomit was in the air as we roamed the streets. Not pretty.
Third, I have less and less patience for drunken buffoonery as I age, but realize such a view is silly to hold when one visits Ground Zero for the practice. The prevalence of pork-pie wearing fools with little chinny fuzz and skinny jeans has perhaps ruined the wearing of this hat for me for a lifetime.
Finally, and back to the diet, is there any food as perfect as the beignet? Fried, sugary dough. I could eat them all day, and so too for their cousin, the funnel cake.