Ah, Mardi Gras! Fat Tuesday! The culmination of all the revelry, debauchery, wild and crazy times, filled with lots of drink (too much for too many) and lots of good, I mean really good, food.
Believe it or not, I’ve never attended a Mardi Gras celebration in New Orleans, and that’s weird for someone from South Louisiana—too chicken, too claustrophobic, too “don’t know where to find a clean bathroom when needed”! What I always loved was, of course, the food that surrounded the occasion, and all the goodies that eventually made their way to ME!!! All of them from an entirely different venue other than Bourbon Street!
Now when I say goodies, good times began when invitations began to arrive to the female members of my family—invitations to the various balls for my mother, great aunt, and grandmother! Elaborate invitations, very vivid, colorful, some parts printed, some written in beautiful calligraphy. They were invitations to luncheons, dinners, cocktails parties, and so on. At the balls, after a member of the krewe “called out” a certain female to dance, she was given a favor in gratitude for the pleasure of her company. These favors could be beautiful charms for a bracelet, little silver trays, match boxes (people still smoked in those days), fabulous Paul Revere miniatures to use with your demitasse cups, and on and on! My great aunt Katherine saved so many beautiful invitations that I now own, and my grandmother passed down so many charms to me, I have two ostentatious, but nonetheless, FABULOUS, charm bracelets!
But back to the food, no telling what catered luxuries were served at the balls, I can only imagine. Mardi Gras has come to be associated with certain dishes. It’s the last chance to eat decadently before the stroke of midnight and the 40 days of Lent begin, asking all to “sacrifice, fast, repent, pray.” I think of the time before Fat Tuesday as a time to indulge in Grillades – a savory round steak dish; jambalaya – full of shrimp, andouille, ham, and gorgeous chopped veggies; spicy boudin; raw oysters so cold and briny, you’re in a dream! Walking in the Quarter with a big wedge of a Muffuletta, smothered in olive salad, loaded with garlic and herbs, is a joy unto itself. I’m about to break out with Louis Armstrong’s version of Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans…
You still have time to celebrate, wherever you are, know why??? King Cakes are EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Every grocery, bakery, convenience store has its own supply of these purple, green, and gold tidbits of high sugar content on some type of flaky pastry. Best part of the King Cake—who gets the baby, oh my. And who gets the baby can symbolize one of two things, good luck for the next year, or who buys the cake the next year. I’m going for the good luck thing.
It’s time to fix a Sazerac – a quintessential NOLA beverage – put your feet up, indulge yourself for a bit, and get ready for the fireworks to die down. You really will be glad they do, the bathrooms will be easier to find…. later, gators!
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