The Rob Martinez Guide to Eating and Drinking in New Orleans
My list of 20+ places to eat and drink in NOLA
There’s one thing that locals kept telling me about New Orleans: The best food isn’t in a restaurant. It’s in someone’s home.
I did stick around long enough to be invited into one. That’s how I ended up streetside at a Mardi Gras parade, in Uptown, being handed drinks by a man who at a certain point could only say the nonsense word “changalang.” But the foods he had on display weren’t the fabled gumbo, or crawfish étouffée, or fried chicken.
So maybe my New Orleans story shouldn’t start there, in that home. Maybe my story starts when I walked from Tremé to the Seventh Ward, then crossed under the I-10 into Marigny. Beneath the I-10 is a plaque that reminds you that this historic black neighborhood was torn in half by the freeway above it.
In the Seventh Ward I was told by a cultural ambassador of New Orleans that integration hastened the downfall of its thriving black neighborhoods. Vance Vaucresson’s family has been making hot sausage, also known as chourice, in the Seventh Ward since 1899. I ate it on a po’boy with extra pickles and Crystal. It tasted like home, even though this is actually Vaucresson’s third home. The original was on the other side of I-10, now called the Circle Food Store.
“This is the New Orleans Seventh Ward Creole version of Creole chourice,” Vance told me as he put together a batch, as always, in the center of the restaurant, in plain view of customers. “We as a family have been in this 3-block radius, from North Claiborne to North Johnson Street, servicing this community for 126 years.”
Maybe the story starts the first time I got called a Yankee, at Verti Marte. When I was told the difference between the South and the North is “family and God.”
“It’s a big part, those 2 go together in the South,” Verti Marte’s owner, Sam Hatfield, told me. But surely, we have family and God in the North? “I know you do,” he answered, coyly. But the implication was we don’t have it like they do in the South.
I witnessed that first-hand when I broke bread with a Vietnamese man named Thien Nguyen at Big EZ Seafood, who crossed himself before we ate 10 pounds of Crawfish. Sometimes I get asked what the English version of the phrase “bon appetit” is. At least in New Orleans, it seems to be the sign of the cross. Thien told me that growing up poor in California, crawfish were the only thing he was allowed to eat until he was full. New Orleans is his home now, and he ships them all across the country.
God. Family. Segregation. Immigration. Crawfish. I could depict New Orleans as collage. But in many ways its design is deliberate and formal, ideated by powerful figures who blockbusted and red-lined their city into the shape they wanted it to be. I could depict it as a tragedy. But then why the hell is everyone partying? I will list its restaurants; but the best food is in someone’s home.
I have only scratched the surface of New Orleans. There is a sense of history and joy and resilience, but I can’t speak about it like they can. I conducted 6 interviews that I hope represent the city well, but I know they can’t represent it fully.
If you are planning on visiting New Orleans, you can watch our Feasting on $50 episode where we find the best breakfast, lunch and dinner for under $50. I’ve listed our choices below, as well as many other restaurants I enjoyed during my 2 weeks there.
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