If you boiled New Orleans to its essence — you’d have a gumbo of musical oak trees, drunken pot holes and fried smoked meats.
This delicious dish would be romantically illuminated by the gas lamps that line the historic town-homes of the French Quarter and the stately plantation-inspired mansions of the Garden District. I love these lamps and they inspired us to snap shots of a broad range of lamps and lighting accents across town.
The original — so spooky, so charming, so old world, so over-the-top. I love gas lamps. The next time I own a house, we’re going to have gas lamps instead of those terrible solar-powered garden lights that are less bright than a glow stick.
This little fella sits in Arnaud’s — a super touristy French restaurant made famous 50 years ago and still getting away with a $110 chateubriand. Rachel went ga-ga over thier signature cocktail, the French 75 (a WW I favorite, consisting of champagne, gin and lemon). I went boo after tasting their also-famed souffle potatoes and egg yolk, mayo sauce. These little fritters were a sad assortment of pillow-shaped french fries with their innards removed. Both the lamp and the French 75 (and the bill!) pack a punch. When you’re done, head upstairs to see a secret museum of mid-century Mardi Gras costumes so you don’t feel so ripped off.
Royal Street in the French Quarter is famous for its antique shops and secondly for the spicy B.O. of the hipster gypsy jug bands who play for tips. My favorite antique store has over absolutely ridiculous accessories including the lamp above which I call “Get a Kindle, you uncivilized Monkey!”
I call this lamp, “What Color is Your Parachute, Monkey?”
And though this isn’t a lamp, you could probably rig it up with electricity. I call it “Hand Me a Towel, Monkey made a Doo-Doo”
The Brennan’s family is THE restaurant family in New Orleans. There is so much pomp and circumstance around these people and their food that the only comparison I can draw is that they’re like if the Cheesecake Factory merged with the Catholic Church. We wandered into Dicky Brennan’s Steakhouse for Happy Hour and were intrigued by this magnum bottle wine lamp. “What a waste, they could’ve put a really big ship in there” I thought as I munched the pickled green bean from my bloody mary.