During the Mardi Gras season in New Orleans, we
tend to live by the saying "Do
what chu wanna," and we do just that, naturally.
I can still recall early childhood memories of Mardi Gras Day. The city shuts
down, and it wasn't until I moved to Atlanta that I realized that everyone else
doesn't have that day off, too. It's the aroma of a fresh box of Popeye's
chicken, the beat of St. Aug's drumline coming up South Rampart Street as I
anxiously count the beads around my neck, the anticipation of catching even
bigger ones when the next float rolls, and standing on a ladder catching Zulu
coconuts over the crowd.
There can also be no mention of Mardi Gras without me having a serious craving for king cake from Gambino's, Randazzo's, and Adrian's Bakery. Locals practice the same traditions that have been passed down generation to generation: where to park, where to meet up, who's responsible for holding down the "meeting spot," and who's bringing the ice chest and the barbecue grill. It's a serious thing, and that's naturally New Orleans. My "NOLA baby" traditions have been passed down to me from my father's side, and many of my friends share the same traditions with theirs. If ya see me on the streets this Mardi Gras, let me know where y'at, baby!
My celebration starts on the Wednesday before
Fat Tuesday with the superkrewe of Nyx parade on Saint Charles Avenue. Nyx is
one of New Orleans's only all-female krewes, and they have some of the best
throws of the season. I still have my custom-designed Nyx purse that I caught a
few years back, and it's become a personal tradition to start a collection with
every year's new design. Even though I keep the festivities light at the start
of a long week of celebration, it's tradition to grab a margarita from Superior
Grille. You
know, because it's tradition. Once the parade is over, the party heads to
Frenchman Street for reggae night at Dragon's Den. There's a food truck now
that parks outside, called Lion Heart Catering, and their jerk chicken plate is
perfect to end the night with.
On Thursday, my group of friends is summoned to
"pregame" at whichever friend's house is the closest to the Krewe of Muses
parade route. Muses is one of the longest-standing all-female Mardi Gras krewes
in New Orleans. It
is an honored tradition to collect their renowned throw: the beautifully
decorated Muses shoe. After the parade is the after-party on Frenchman Street,
and while there are several bars with great music, my group loves to end the
night dancing our hearts out at the Blue Nile. I highly recommend either the
crawfish étouffée fries from Dat Dog or the tater tachos at 13 Bar to end your
late-night festivities.
Now, Friday is where the celebration steps up
quite a few notches, with the world-famous Zulu Ball. There's no time for parades
on Friday because the day is spent preparing for the night. There are many
Mardi Gras balls to attend, and I am more than sure they are amazing, but I
know they can't throw down like Zulu does in the convention center. The Zulu
Ball is a members-only extravaganza that is open to guests of members. In other
words, you have to be a member, know a member, or know someone who knows
someone who has an extra seat at the table and is willing to sell it.
It's a great idea to start Saturday with a
hearty brunch because the next few days leading up to Fat Tuesday have a way of
blending into one long day of celebration. By brunch, I mean anything fried and
absorbing, like a shrimp po-boy with fries and a mimosa. The weekend is
jam-packed with the best parades and the best street parties that only feel
this live once a year. On Saturday
evening, the Krewe of Endymion rolls from City Park to the Superdome. We used
to enjoy the parade while partying at my dear friend Monique's annual crawfish
boil in Mid-City, but since her move, we now enjoy the parade walking
alongside, all the way from Saint Charles Avenue to Canal Street, and then we
end up in the French Quarter. Our first stop is Pat O's for a hurricane and
then on to Bourbon Street, where it's a New Orleans tradition to grace the
stages with serious "p-poppin" dance-offs.
Sunday starts with brunch at Russell's Marina
Grille to fuel up for the Sunder
Sunday second
line at Kermit Ruffins's spot in Treme, which lasts until it's time to head to Canal Street for the
Bacchus parade. Our party crew then hits Bourbon Street to continue the
celebration, with a visit to Tropical Isle for a Hand Grenadeand more dancing in the street.
Monday depends on how well you handled the
weekend. Half of the group will pre-game for the Endymion Ball and the Orpheus
parade, while the other half takes Monday to rest. Tuesday, if we wake up early
enough, or-even better-never went to sleep, we have an 8 a.m. call-time for the
Zulu parade. This is the most important spot to secure all Mardi Gras season-so
important that I'm not sharing where we traditionally catch the parade! A spot in front gives you a greater chance
of being handed the prized Zulu coconut, Zulu arrows, or the signature Zulu
bead of the year. After Zulu rolls, our party relocates to Saint Charles Avenue
to catch Rex, Elks, and the Crescent City truck parades.
We walk from the bridge down Saint Charles
Avenue, catching my friends all the way down on Marengo Street, and then head
back while the parades roll. For 2020, I plan to ride the streetcar and start a
new tradition. And since we can no longer go to Gene's for a midday po-boy like
we used to, we're going to start a new tradition and visit Bourée for some Guy
Fierie-approved cuisine.
The bands. The beads. The booze. Gotta enjoy every bit. As long as you make sure to eat, wear cute walking shoes, stay hydrated, and enjoy your festivities responsibly, you'll make it to Wednesday.
