Kosher Cajun

(Editor’s note: Names have been changed to protect individual privacy.)

This past weekend I went to visit Sparky in the Big Easy, New Orleans. Much to my surprise the drive was pretty quick - a straight 4.5 hour shot southwest on the Interstate through Alabama, Mississippi right to the edge of Louisiana, where NOLA is located. After spending spring break in N’awlins it was good to be back and of course to get the chance to visit Sparky, who’s lucky enough to be spending the summer there.

The city itself is truly unique, managing to combine a rare blend of funky music, spicy food, European old city houses with southern plantation style mansions, and of course a hefty serving of “soul”. Though I’d already gotten to see how New Orleans has been recovering from Katrina when I was there a few months ago, this past weekend I had the chance to revisit the Lower 9th Ward, which is the area most devastated by the storm. I saw several people working on reconstructing their houses in the lower 9th, and even some “For Sale” signs, though my portfolio manager tells me it’s probably not a good move to buy there right now.

For the most part, however, the Lower 9th Ward remains a ghost town, and I’ve never seen such an enormous magnitude of destruction concentrated in one place. Driving down the empty streets there, it’s easy to imagine that a huge bomb simply exploded overturning houses, cars and anything else in its way. In some ways a bomb is better than the reality of what really happened – ultimately, the people who were most disenfranchised in the city, the poor and predominately black residents of the lower 9th, lived in poorly constructed houses that were just waiting to be blown down, either by the big bad wolf or by the inevitable Hurricane. Moreover, enfranchisement doesn’t come at the snap of one’s fingers, even if that “snap” involved the complete destruction of a whole population’s entire livelihood. Most of the 9th ward residents haven’t returned to New Orleans because they have nowhere to come back to, and in the meantime, the city has been twiddling its thumbs about what to do.

On a lighter note, I don’t think I’ve quite reached “foodie” status, but Sparky and I spent a good part of the weekend enjoying New Orleans’ cuisine. On Saturday night we checked out a place called Jacques-Imos, a small hot spot in the western part of the city. The wait is typically up to 2 hours and people just hang out by the bar until they’re seated. On the way to our table we walked through the kitchen where a whole lotta’ frying was going on – all different kinds of fish, chicken, shrimp – and it smelled amazing. The highlight of the meal besides the waiter who was literally walking around in his cycling outfit – spandex shorts, helmet, glasses and blinking reflectors all over himself – was the fried green tomatoes, which were awesome!

The next morning after having only partially recovered from our dining experience the night before, we checked out a local diner for my first taste of grits since coming down south! I can’t believe I waited a whole week to have them!! Breakfast consisted of a healthy portion of grits, French toast and eggs – and we went the “light” route. Most people added sausage, ham or bacon on top of all that. In case you’re wondering what grits taste like, they’re pretty much a bland version of cream of wheat, except that they’re made with corn (and if you’ve seen My Cousin Vinny you know that they take 20 minutes to make). You can add anything to them to give them some flavor, such as butter, salt, salsa, syrup, etc and they washed down the eggs pretty well.

That wasn’t the end of the eating fest that Sparky and I went on. Right after breakfast we got into the car and headed about 20 minutes out of the city to check out Kosher Cajun, the only kosher New Orleans style restaurant in the city (we heard about it when we went to Synagogue on Saturday). I was dreaming about going there literally all weekend. So much of New Orleans’ food is off limits to me (because I keep kosher) that I couldn’t wait to try the types of food whose aroma literally wafts through the air as I walked through the streets. Though most of Kosher Cajun’s fare consists of New York deli sandwiches and knishes, they had kosher Po Boy sandwiches (The name Po Boy originated in 1929, when a New Orleans restaurateur started serving striking railroad workers, who he called “Poor Boys”, free sandwiches which eventually became known as Po’ Boys. They were originally made with baguettes and French Fried potatoes in the middle to keep costs down but gradually they evolved to be made with meat and fish.). KJ’s also had kosher gumbo, which is the equivalent of kosher chullent. I took both options for the road and, 10 pounds heavier than when I first arrived, I got in the car and drove back to ‘Bama.

The first thing I did when I returned was go for a run in 95 degree heat. Felt like running through a sauna, but it felt great to get out and expend some energy. Since then, the work week has been interesting and exciting and has included an office outing to the final home season game of the local arena football team, the Montgomery Maulers. I realized I was in Alabama when I walked into the arena just in time for the prayer starting off the game, thanking God for good attendance and healthy athletes and hailing Jesus. Then the lights came up, the color guard retreated, and 3 Harley Davidsons roared out of the building. Final score: Montgomery Maulers 42, Charleston Sand Sharks, 30. Way to go home team!!!