This morning I picked up Mom at her hotel. Dad's conference starts at noon today and lasts until noon on Friday.
She had done some research before flying down and had the addresses of some of her old schools in the suburb of Metarie that she wanted to go see. First, we went to the former site of Ridgewood Prep, her middle school. The school itself moved to a different location and the property was divided into partitions for housing development. At the end of a beautiful oak-lined neighborhood now sits a spanish-villa style mansion surrounded by a wrought iron fence. We tried to find the large magnolia tree that used to sit at a fountained courtyard but it looked like it was long gone.
Next stop was Riverdale High School, whose construction was completed in 1962 and my mom's was the first graduating class in 1964 when it was a girls-only school (they started with juniors and gradually added sophomores and freshmen). In a large glass case we found a ten-year anniversary plaque commemorating the class of '64.
After, we drove to nearby Bridgedale Elementary School, but it was closed up for the summer and very worn-looking.
Our last stop was to a pretty neighborhood where her stepfather lived, only to find out he had moved to Mississippi after Katrina.
By now we were fairly hungry and went to Magazine Street in the Garden District for lunch and shopping. We stopped at Ignatius Eatery by the recommendation of a local we spoke to. It's a tiny place with large jars of mayonaise as part of the decor. We each had excellent po' boys and felt extremely bad about not being able to take our leftovers with us. The ham on mine was so thinly sliced my mom kept asking if she could try some of the "roast beef". According to the menu it was glazed with root beer. Maybe that's the secret ingredient I've been looking for all these times I've baked a ham because this one was delicious. Mom's had shrimp remoulade that was extremely well-seasoned.
Next we drove several blocks north to re-attempt my doomed antique store visit. After struggling with a parking meter we found Aesthetic Antiques was open! We must have spent forty minutes in there. I purchased a set of old-fashioned conical soda glasses (milkshakes and root beer floats!) and a couple of old postcards. My mom found a great one that featured the Suicide Oak in City Park and I was very jealous I had not spotted it first.
You're still going to send me a copy, right?
After depositing our purchases in the car we crossed the street and stopped in Sucre, a high-end gelaterie and confectionery. Their sundaes sounded fabulous (one featuring bread pudding with bananas foster) but once I'd spotted their adult milkshake menu we both knew what we were going to order. Mom's had Godiva liquer, praline liquer, frangelico, and swirls of caramel. Mine, the Grasshopper, was vanilla gelato with creme de menthe swirled with chocolate syrup. Mom picked up a large individual dessert for my dad.
Suffering slightly from sugar overdoses, we went to the nearby Antique Mall but were quickly turned off by their anti-theft procedures. It is a large store with many unsupervised nooks and crannies, but forcing customers to leave their shopping bags and sometimes large purses with the employee at the door seemed a little excessive. As my mom left to wait for me outside, I could hear her from all the way at the back of the shop loudly accusing them of taking a bite out of my dad's Sucre dessert. She was joking of course but the shop owner very seriously said that customers might have believed her.
By the time we were done with Magazine Street it was after 5 pm, so I called the Monteleone to make sure Dad was done with conferences for the day. After picking him up for dinner a torrential rain began to fall and our drive back to Metarie for dinner was slow.
We stopped at Galley and got soaked in the parking lot crossing (my shoes were soggy within seconds) only to find out they were closed for a private party. Since Landry's was nearby, we headed for the marina. After getting soaked by the rain, the air conditioned dining room was very uncomfortable, so we opted for a table on their covered deck with a view of the marina and Lake Ponchartrain.
As usual, they provided us with excellent fair, fresh seafood, and strong cocktails. Later, as the rain subsided, a glorious double rainbow stretched over the lake.
After a lovely sunset I dropped my parents off at their hotel and went back to mine, pouting a little because it was still before ten O'clock and I had yet to do the usual booze cruize in the Quarter. I redressed, reapplied some makeup, and had $1.25 in my pocket to take the streetcar downtown when I decided to give Hans a call. I felt perfectly safe with the idea of wandering Bourbon street on my own but the reality was that it would be a fairly lonely experience without a friend. Hans was comfortable with the idea too, but the longer I sat in my room I realized my feet really were tired and it would be better to spend my evening figuring out what I want to do with my last day tomorrow and get some rest. I gradually redressed for bed and dug out my guidebooks and laptop.
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