J's night stand at the apartment. Appropriate.
No. Seriously. Please send a rescue crew with all the sodium bicarbonate one can find.
We're wrapping up our week in NOLA with one last show tonight. A big event called "Instruments a'comin'!" Sounds amazing, and I'm very much looking forward to it. Except I can't eat anymore. I know, I know, I write an entire blog about eating (and drinking.) But I'm done. I can't do it.
My body is craving leafy greens NOT slathered in mayo or crawfish remoulade. I'm dying for a drink of something non-alcoholic and NOT a delicious coffee freeze from the fairgrounds. I'm fairly certain I've expanded my waist about 3 sizes, and my energy level is nil.
But...what a ride. J and I have been really really bad about taking pictures of our food. It just hasn't exactly been easy, what with rain, a ton of people, dirty muddy fairgrounds, etc. But when we return home (and have slept off the rest of our exhaustion) I will try my damndest to report back in massively descriptive detail all the wonders of my favorite things. Cochon du lait. Crawfish strudel. Rosemint iced tea, and white chocolate bread pudding. And, to the absolute and total delight of my husband, I've fallen in love with Crystal hot sauce. (We're smuggling several bottles in our suitcases.)
And the music...Anders Osborne rocked. Galactic (though insanely late, causing my entire circadian rhythm to wig out) was incredible. New Orleans Nitecrawlers. Simon and Garfunkel...ah.
Soon my friends, soon.
Can't believe I'm saying this, but NO MORE BEER!
Bourbon Street. Daytime.
J and I during Simon and Garfunkel. The sun had finally come out!
Dinner Friday night. Cochon Butcher
Brother Andy and I at a party last night