Sunday, November 02, 2008

Mena's Palace, New Orleans French Quarter

I'm in New Orleans with my husband right now, missing our kids but having a pretty good time. Rather than paying $20 each for breakfast this morning at our hotel, we ventured into the French Quarter and found a small establishment on Rue de Chartres (I miss Paris!) called Mena's Palace Restaurant & Bar.

They looked as though they would obviously make the majority of their money in the afternoon and evening, judging from the selection of liquors and beers available. Regardless of when business peaks for them in the course of a day, I am inclined to return for breakfast again sometime this week. The coffee was *very* good, the service was a perfect balance of friendly and unobtrusive, and the food was very tasty and reasonably priced. We cut our expense for breakfast in half and enjoyed a much more interesting and locally flavored environment than we would have in the restaurant at our hotel.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Mena's Rocks! You might try the Hoka Cafe as well over on Frenchman at Decature. A little more expensive but large, pretty and interesting and at the start of the hottest 2 blocks of music venues in New Orleans!

I love your poem Azure Moon.
But, I would like to point out an irony form my own experience.
The Night that the levees broke was a new moon. After the city went dark, it was a darkness that is excruciatingly hard to describe. I would call it the shadow of the valley of death, but that really doesn't get it, as if such an image has grown quaint in America.
No, the nightmare held no scripture, no koans, no dharma, no tao...no music, no art, no words no light, only the death of an entire city by slow, violent rape and crucifixion.
It was that bad. I was there.
The moon was not blue, it was a Starless, Black Hole Sun.

And I love your poem for the way you nail the image for me as all great artists should.
I would love to hang it on the Ladder with your permission. I did go ahead and hang this post today.

Thank you,
Editilla~New Orleans Ladder

George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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