The best way to navigate the French Quarter in the smothering heat of summer is to stay hydrated, for goodness’ sake—and keep your blood sugar up with multiple small meals!The first place Melificent and I headed was Port of Call, a dive joint on Esplanade favored by the locals. In addition to Neptune’s Monsoon—a large and unremarkable rum/fruit juice concoction, we launched into smackdown mode and tried one of their burgers—this trip, it was Port of Call versus Clover Grill.
“Better be a good burger,” Mel said, noting the $9.50 price tag.
The patty, capped off with a handful of shredded cheese, was so thick, it basically deconstructed into wads of meat as we attempted to eat the thing.
The patty, capped off with a handful of shredded cheese, was so thick, it basically deconstructed into wads of meat as we attempted to eat the thing.
Next stop: Fiorella’s—home of the best fried chicken in the Quarter. We were still buzzing on our bucket of rum/juice, so we kept it light and ordered two big spicy, crunchy breasts of heavenly goodness. Fan-effing-tastic. Enough said. 
The next day, we needed a snack before entering the shrine to all that is tasty: the Southern Food & Beverage Museum at Riverwalk. I was beyond delighted to find Messina’s in the food court—purveyors of Cajun Spicy Potatoes, which I had missed, all these long years without. (I have cooked up several batches of these sinful spuds since returning home: little red potatoes simmered in Zatarain’s cayenne-laced seafood boil, smothered with Tony Chachere’s seasoning-flecked sour cream and shredded cheddar, sprinkled with chopped green onions. Simple and oh-so-good.)
SoFAB and its Museum of the American Cocktail made us thirsty and hungry, duh, so we wandered through cool, dark Harrah’s casino, emerging into blazing sunlight on the other side at Loew’s hotel, with Café Adelaide and the Swizzle Stick Bar nestled in its lobby.
The airy lounge is adorned with some of Adelaide’s massive cocktail shaker collection. She was a Brennan, of the famed NOLA restaurant clan, and liked the hooch so much she wore a gold swizzle stick charm around her neck. Would have loved to meet her!
Drink special: The Adelaide Swizzle. Perfect for a hot afternoon. A tall glass filled with New Orleans Dark Rum, Peychaud’s Bitters, soda, lime juice and a “secret ingredient” which Michael, our first rate absolutely amazing bartender (for reasons I will reveal in my next post), refused to tell us outright but let us discover on our own. (Mel’s getting a bottle of the secret ingredient for Christmas! That’s all I have to say.)
What do you get when you spear a big fat shrimp, dip it in a cornmeal-shredded tasso batter, fry it up, swirl it in a Crystal hot sauce reduction, and showcase it on a plate atop a clear pool of pepper-flecked jelly, garnished with slivers of pickled okra? Paradise on a bamboo skewer, my friend.
The Swizzle Stick Bar did not disappoint and it only got better from there…
UP NEXT: Why I love Michael...
