Libations on a Friday Afternoon

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Drinking in New Orleans.  I could say no more and just post pictures.  But who are we kidding?

Friday, a small group from the Twitterverse met up for lunch at Galatoire’s.  I adore Galatoire’s, and have said so time and again.  For a succulent read of Friday’s foray, read Pete’s post.  It was a glorious time.  After we finished dining, we were not done imbibing.  So after having two Sazeracs at Galatoire’s, we headed off into the French Quarter for more.

Galatoire’s Sazerac

Being already on Bourbon Street, we did not have to stumble walk far to end up here, the quintessential place to continue the consumption of Absinthe:

Since absinthe is again legal in the U.S., there is a new fascination with the green-glowing liquid.  The first brand we tried was Le Tourment Vert from France.  The Old Absinthe House burns the sugar cube and then pours water over the cube to melt it.  There is debate whether to burn the sugar cube or not; historically the cube was not burned.  But, damn, it is pretty:

We then tried Lucid (also from France):

Then we did Kubler, made in Switzerland.  My preference? Kubler, Lucid then Tournment.  But they were all smooth and tasty.  Absinthe is anise-flavored.  Licorice.  But with the sugar and water that is added, it isn’t overly bitter.  In fact, as for drinking, it is refreshing, and kind of like a breath mint.

Absinthe posters at The Old Absinthe House

Now, aside from the booze, there is really an allure for me to be in a bar in the middle of the day.  It scares me sometimes how much I like it because left to my own devices, well, let’s not think about where I’d be on a given Wednesday at 2:30 in the afternoon if left to my own devices.

My ancestors on my father’s side of the family came to New Orleans over 100 years ago.  We stepped of the boat and started tending bar in the Central Business District and the French Quarter.  And we did this for decades.  It hasn’t worn off yet, that desire to be in a bar during the day.

And most appealing to me is an old bar, one that may have seen my ancestors.  Like the Old Absinthe House.

All the wood and brass.  The patina of years of traffic.  The legends and myths of meetings of pirates.  Ah, to go back in time in the very seat you are sitting on!  As the time passed, the bar went from mostly empty to quite busy.  Much of the crowd, like us, meandered from Galatoire’s.  Mid-afternoon, the skies growled then opened.  And it rained.  A lot.

And if there is one thing I like more than being in a bar in the French Quarter in the middle of the day, it is being in that bar with its doors thrown open when a good, hard rain comes through.  It quiets all of the outside noises down; no sounds of traffic or Lucky Dog vendors or folks walking down the street.  The entire universe, all, is what is inside that bar with you.  It is a lovely way to span time.

After more absinthes than I care to recount (ok, four), we left the French Quarter and made a stop at the Swizzle Stick Bar for my other recent luxury, the Adelaide Swizzle.  It was now 6:30pm.  I was exhausted.  We parted ways and ended a perfectly wonderful day of imbibing in the Quarter.

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