Brunch on Full Blast and Murals in the Bywater

Sunday morning, Darren Towns and I headed over to yet another new breakfast spot in New Orleans, this one in a familiar location, 139 South Cortez in Mid-City which was the original location of the Ruby Slipper, now a fairly-popular breakfast chain in New Orleans. The chain had let their original location go as they opened new locations closer to the tourist areas, but I was surprised to see that it had reopened in June as a new restaurant called Fullblast Brunch. Opening a breakfast restaurant in New Orleans would seem to be a foolhardy proposition, as the city seems to have more of them than any other place I have been, and yet, with few exceptions, they seem to fare well despite the obvious level of competition. One must conclude that New Orleanians absolutely love to eat breakfast out rather than at home. One of the things I find so special about the city as well is its tendency to have great restaurants on street corners in otherwise residential neighborhoods, a dynamic that is certainly true of the building where Fullblast is located. The restaurant is still relatively new, and to our surprise, we had no trouble getting a table at all. Both the food and the coffee were great, and although we enjoyed standard breakfast fare, we heard others rave about the crab cakes. 

After breakfast, I wanted to head out along St. Claude Avenue to get some pictures of the neighborhood murals, which are another unique facet of New Orleans life. Every time I visit, it seems that new murals have appeared along the major thoroughfares, celebrating local hip-hop artists, Black history icons like Harriet Tubman, or the musicians and social aid and pleasure clubs of the 9th Ward. The latter mural particularly interested Darren, as it included a painting of TBC’s deceased saxophone player Brandon Franklin, who was from the 9th Ward, but I was somewhat shocked by a building on which seemed to have been painted the slogan “Support Murder.” I am well aware of the problems in America today, but I wasn’t expecting to see so stark and violent a message. But as it turned out, a crucial letter was hidden behind a telephone pole, and when we got closer, the slogan actually read “Support C-Murder,” the former No Limit Records rap artist,  a sentiment that I agree with whole-heartedly. 

Darren and TBC Brass Band were getting ready for a performance at some beer and barbecue festival at Wollenberg Park along the Mississippi River, but I had to get on the road and head back to Memphis. Leaving New Orleans is never easy for me, and it typical leaves me rather sad. However, I was able to stop at a Rouses in Ponchatoula, and load up on French Market and Mello Joy coffee capsules for my Keurig machine at home. I also picked up a pound of beans from a Baton Rouge coffee roaster called River Road Coffee Roasters, and was quite pleased with the results when I got home. 

Spending A Day with the TBC Brass Band in New Orleans

There are no second-lines during the summer, at least not the large, official ones sponsored by social aid and pleasure clubs, but that doesn’t mean that brass band activity dies down during the summer. If anything, the bands are busier than ever, due to weddings, birthdays and family reunions, as well as club dates and outdoor music festivals, so I usually try to make it to New Orleans at least once during the summer to hang out with my friends in To Be Continued Brass Band, and this year was no exception, as I made my way down on July 20th, stopping in Covington, Louisiana for a dinner at The Chimes, an excellent seafood restaurant along the scenic Tchefuncte River. But it was after midnight when I arrived in New Orleans, and my TBC Brass Band friends were gathered outside of a place called Jokers Wyld and Mickey’s Playhouse (the former Ooh Pooh Pa Dooh) where they were supposed to be playing for some sort of party. After I parked and pulled around the corner, I found them engaged in a friendly but vigorous band argument of some sort, which is often the case in New Orleans, as band is a competitive sport in that musical city. Unfortunately, the man who had engaged the band “went off to get the money” and never returned, so they didn’t play, and I instead grabbed a cafe-au-lait and some beignets and made my way to the West Bank and to bed. 

The next morning, my homeboy Darren Towns, the bass drummer for TBC, his two young daughters and I headed into the Bywater neighborhood to have breakfast at a bright and cheerful new spot on St. Claude Avenue called Polly’s Bywater Cafe, which had not been there when I was last in the city at Mardi Gras. In one sense, Polly’s takes a page from other typical New Orleans breakfast spots, with local artwork on the walls, and a bright color scheme, and cheerful, sun-catching windows and decor. But we greatly appreciated the private parking lot (a rarity in New Orleans), the pleasant, efficient service, and the extremely high-quality food. Thoroughly satisfied, we were soon on our way to a recording studio in Mid-City, where TBC was to record a commercial with the legendary Kermit Ruffins. 

After the studio session, it was largely gigs all day, with the first one being a wedding reception at an event venue in Jefferson Parish. From there I ran Darren by Guitar Center so he could buy a new cymbal for his bass drum, and then we headed to Legacy Kitchen, a new local chain of restaurants that I had been eager to try. We found the food excellent (I had the chicken and waffles), and we liked the upbeat vibe of the place, although prices were fairly steep. From there we had to head to the arena on the Xavier University campus, where a family reunion was taking place. Like the earlier wedding reception, the organizers had hired both the TBC Brass Band and some of the Zulus to be there in costume, and the attendees seemed to enjoy it. 

The next stop was another wedding reception, this one at the Veterans of Foreign Wars Post in Algiers, right at the border with Gretna, and at that particular location, the crowd had gotten rather rowdy, and some men were trying to calm down a man who was obviously intoxicated. But the performance went well, and the crowd seemed to enjoy TBC greatly, and again, there were members of the Zulus in costume there as well, which apparently is the current trend in New Orleans events.

Our final destination was a birthday party in the Seventeenth Ward at a place called the Broadway Bar, where a large crowd was gathered out in the street, at tables and chairs in front of the club, and inside. The place was so crowded that it was hard for TBC to get into the club, but the Broadway is the type of hood club where the band and the crowd feed off of each other, and their performance was the hypest of the whole day. After TBC came back out of the truly tiny club, the band and members of the crowd began a sort of second-line around the neighborhood, and were not ready to break up when we made it back around to the club entrance. So TBC played for another twenty minutes or so while the man whose birthday it was, and his father danced in the street, along with some other people from the crowd. Finally, about 1 in the morning or so, we finally left the area. After one of these serendipitous New Orleans moments, the mood is usually exhaustion but exhilaration too, and this night was no different. 

The Zulus and Rex Uptown on Mardi Gras Morning


I was exhausted enough that I didn’t wake up early on Mardi Gras morning, and I barely stirred when my friend’s wife got the kids dressed to take them to her mother’s condo uptown so they could watch the parades. I had hoped to go to breakfast with Darren, assuming we could find a place open, which is not easy to do on Mardi Gras Day, but when I saw that he was not going to wake up any time soon, I got dressed and headed down the road to an IHOP that was open near the Oakwood Mall at the border between New Orleans and Gretna. I felt sorry for the people there having to work, but it was nice to be able to get some coffee and a good bacon and cheese omelette. After breakfast, I called Darren and found that he had woken up, but the price I paid for my breakfast was missing the Zulu Parade. But Darren and I headed across the bridge and uptown, and on Washington Avenue, we actually caught up with a portion of the Zulu Parade. Even though rain had been predicted, instead the sun was out, and the temperature was a pleasant 72 degrees. In fact, it seemed as if we had gone from winter to spring in 12 short hours. There were huge crowds along the parade route, and to my disappointment, the float riders in the Zulu parade were quite stingy with their throws, perhaps because they were getting to the end of the parade route. We still managed to catch 30 or so of the Zulu floats, and then we made our way down to the corner of 6th and St. Charles, where we were able to park at Darren’s mother-in-law’s condominium complex in order to catch the Rex parade. Although there were a few bands in the Rex parade, it was less bands and more floats, but the floats were interesting, as they had to do with New Orleans and Louisiana history. It seemed as if there were more beads being thrown in the Rex parade, and eventually, due to the hot weather, I got thirsty, so I walked across the street to the Gracious Bakery and Cafe, which surprisingly was open, and I got an iced coffee. When the Rex parade was over, it was immediately followed by a truck parade sponsored by the Krewe of Elks, but that parade soon came to a halt and stayed stopped for nearly an hour. We didn’t know it at the time, but there had been a shooting along the parade route on St. Charles Avenue, and a teenager had died. But I was not as interested in the truck parade, and hoped to run into the gangs of Mardi Gras Indians, so Darren and I left St. Charles Avenue and headed to the vicinity of Second and Dryades, a known location for the Indian tribes.

Strange Winter Rituals on a Busy Lundi Gras


Lundi Gras, the Monday before Mardi Gras Day, is basically a holiday in New Orleans, and thus ordinary things like getting breakfast can become a little complicated. My friend Darren Towns, his wife Jarday, and their children and I had planned to grab a breakfast at a new spot called Cloud 9 Bistro uptown at Magazine and 9th, a place that was supposed to specialize in liege waffles. Unfortunately, because of Lundi Gras, the restaurant had both cooks and servers not show up for work, and the owner stated it would be 45 minutes before he could even take our order. As a result, we walked around the corner to the Red Dog Diner, but they stated that the wait for a table would be at least two hours. Desperate, not to mention starving, I suggested that we try further uptown at Riccobono’s Panola Street Cafe, and although we did have to wait, it was a reasonable length of time, and we got seated. The breakfasts there are always great, and this day was no exception. However, the delays in finding a place and in getting seated meant that when we were through with breakfast, Darren only had about an hour before he was supposed to play at his afternoon gig.
I had traveled to many gigs with Darren and other members of the TBC Brass Band, and almost all of them had been fun, but this one on this particular day was not much fun at all. For one thing, it wasn’t a TBC gig, but rather a pickup band that had been hired for this particular event, and for another, the event had been put together by a certain celebrity performance artist who is often in New Orleans. Her desire to protect her privacy and not disclose her whereabouts meant that I was not to use my phone to film or photograph the goings-on, and that in fact I was to keep my distance from the whole thing. The organizers had given several different addresses to the musicians, perhaps another step in trying to keep paparazzi and other unwelcome guests at bay, and we had gone first to a location in the French Quarter before ending up on a rather desolate street in the 9th Ward neighborhood known as Holy Cross.
The organizers had hired both some Mardi Gras Indians, and musicians, for some sort of outdoor event. They wanted everyone other than the Indians to wear white, and one of the women explained to Darren that they were going to “build an altar” for their ritual, and that they would then walk to the river with the Indians and musicians to “make their offerings.” None of us were quite sure what exactly was going on there, whether voodoo, or New Age, or neo-paganism, but it was all quite strange, to say the least. The weather was bitterly cold as well, and eventually I retreated to the car, where I turned on the heat and sat there for the hour and a half or so that the procession and ceremony continued.
When it was finally all over, Darren and I decided to go and get dinner. Perhaps because of the cold, it never even occurred to me to suggest that we go to the parades. Instead we headed to the new Saltgrass Steakhouse in Metairie, where we enjoyed a steak dinner, and then we stopped by the Cafe du Monde on Veterans Boulevard for after-dinner beignets and coffee. Thoroughly exhausted, we decided not to go out for live music, but to head to the house and get rested up for the big day on the morrow.

The Sun Also Rises (And So Do The Biscuits)


2017 had its ups and downs, but one of the better stories in Memphis was the opening of a lot of new restaurants, the vast majority of them really good. One of them, Sunrise Memphis, recently appeared in a building where nothing has ever seemed to work. The place, on Jefferson Avenue between downtown and the Medical Center, has been a barbecue restaurant and a French cafe specializing in crepes, both of which came to a dismal end. But Sunrise seems headed for better things, at least in part because Memphis still is woefully underrepresented when it comes to breakfast restaurants, despite some beloved gems, and also because it has a unique twist on getting your day underway. Although it is a sitdown restaurant, Sunrise operates more like a fast-food place. You stand in line, move up to the counter, and order your food, they give you a number and then you sit down. The menu is a little strange compared to ordinary breakfast restaurants, and the focus is on biscuit breakfasts, Asian-tinged breakfast specialties, bowls and tacos. However, there are a few standard breakfast options, and a couple of omelettes. Prices are reasonable, the eating space is brightly-colored and cheerful, the music overhead is the classic sounds of Memphis, and the coffee is Memphis’ own J. Brooks. There’s really very little not to like, although I didn’t like the lack of parking. However, the block walk I made to and from my car probably did me some good, although it was likely offset by how much I ate. Pay Sunrise Memphis a visit for breakfast. It’s worth it.

Sunrise Memphis
670 Jefferson Av
Memphis, TN 38105
(901) 552-3144
5 AM-3PM Daily

Hungry? Head to the Liquor Store!


If a person said that they were going to the liquor store to eat, you might think they were a little out of it, to say the least. But if they were in Memphis when they said it, it might make a little sense. The Liquor Store is an upscale diner and bar located in the Broad Avenue Arts District in the Binghampton neighborhood of Memphis, located in a building that for many years was indeed a liquor store. The current restaurant has a strong Cuban/Calle Ocho/South Beach vibe that is at once bright and captivating. Great Cuban music plays overhead, the restaurant’s interior is all done in white, aquamarine and red, and both the cups and staff T-shirts are emblazoned with palm trees. Despite a few Cuban items on the menu, the bulk of the offerings are more traditional. Breakfast is served the entire day, and is delicious, with many of the items locally sourced. The bacon/blue cheese burger is also as good as any burger in Memphis. As befits a place called The Liquor Store, there is of course a full bar as well. However, despite the bar and breakfast tendencies, the hours are somewhat curtailed, with the restaurant closing at 4 PM on Sundays and Mondays, and at 9 PM every other day. Still, it is a great new destination in Memphis for great food in a pleasant environment without spending a lot of money.

The Liquor Store
2655 Broad Av
Memphis, TN 38112
(901) 405-5477

Great Breakfasts and a Taste of History at The Brunswick Kitchen


I had been hearing about a new restaurant that had opened in the old Brunswick community along Brunswick Road, and I had even ventured out there after church a couple of Sundays and found it closed. Finally, I learned that the place was called The Brunswick Kitchen, and that they were only open for lunch during the week, and for breakfast until noon on Saturdays. So on the first Saturday morning in November, I made a trip out Brunswick Road and across the railroad tracks to the restaurant, which is located in a low, brick building that used to be a general store. Although there are a few parking places in front of the building, The Brunswick Kitchen routinely attracts crowds that fill up the overflow parking on the gravel lot across the street.
The restaurant’s interior is cheerful. The room is spacious, almost like a camp dining hall, and the space is filled with memorabilia and historic photos of the Brunswick community. The restaurant bustles with activity, but the staff are friendly and full of smiles, and seem more like members of a family than employees of a business. Despite the busy-ness, there is rarely a wait for a table.
As for the breakfast menu, it is nothing special, just standard breakfast fare such as bacon and eggs or omelettes, but the prices are low, and the simplest of items are prepared with loving care and exquisite attention to detail. I opted for a bacon, cheddar and bleu cheese omelette, which was absolutely amazing. It came with hash browns, which were golden brown and crispy, just as I like them, and with a biscuit, butter and grape jelly. Meals are cooked after you order, and depending on the size of the crowd, can take a bit of time to come out, but the coffee is good, and the waitstaff great about refilling your cup.
A word of caution is in order, however. The Brunswick Kitchen is NOT the place for a leisurely brunch on Saturday, as they close at noon! It is also in a fairly remote location between Bartlett and Lakeland, so from most parts of Memphis proper, it is a bit of a drive. You will have to get up early to make it there, but it is worth it. I am also told that TBK has started opening on Friday nights to serve catfish. I will have to try that next.

The Brunswick Kitchen
5197 Brunswick Rd
Brunswick, TN 38002
(901) 730-0907

Uptown with the Young Men Olympian and the TBC Brass Band


Sherena had never been to a second-line, so on our weekend trip to New Orleans, I wanted her to experience one first-hand. And by chance, we ended up going to the biggest second-line of the year, the four-hour Young Men Olympian second-line, with its five divisions and five bands. As I have discussed elsewhere in this blog, the YMO is the oldest social aid and pleasure club still existing in New Orleans, and would seem to be the largest as well. One of the divisions had hired the TBC Brass Band to play with them, so when we got to the starting point for the second-line after a leisurely breakfast at Slim Goody’s Diner on Magazine Street, we looked for TBC and quickly fell in behind them. Sherena had brought her tambourine, and though it was all new to her, she fell into the rhythm perfectly as if she had been doing it all her life. Despite the hot weather, the turnout was truly large, with hundreds of people buck-jumping behind the various bands. The division behind us had hired the New Creations Brass Band, and I met some of their members when we stopped at the Sportsman’s Lounge at Second and Dryades. When we passed by a cemetery on Washington Avenue, some young boys were actually dancing on top of tombs along the fenceline, an example of the tendency of dancers to look for elevated locations where they can be seen, although there may be further significance to dancing on graves. The act might be a defiance of death itself. But the heat took its toll on Sherena, and the large crowds made it hard for us to keep up with one another. When we got back to Simon Bolivar Street, we decided to leave the second-line and find something indoors and cooler to get into.

Exquisitely Roasted Coffee on the Edge of Downtown Memphis


Compared to other Southern cities, coffee is seriously under-represented in Memphis, and always has been. I can remember when Java Cabana was literally the only coffee bar in town. There wasn’t even a Starbucks in those days, so a cappuccino meant a little bit of a drive. Things have gotten better, but Memphis still lacks the variety and quantity of coffee bars that cities like Atlanta, New Orleans and Austin offer. But occasionally, new coffee bars open here, and the latest, Edge Alley is the coffee component of a local retail mini-mall in the burgeoning Edge District just east of downtown Memphis. The first thing I noticed was the sleek, spartan, modern look of the place, with bright white walls and plenty of overhead light. Nothing at all fancy, but the environs exude simplicity and cheer. I was even more excited to learn that Edge Alley roasts its own coffee on the premises. And as for the taste-the barista prepared me an excellent breve latte, as good as any I’ve had anywhere. Unfortunately, the place closes fairly early, at 8 PM, but it is a welcome addition to our city. Because one can never really have too much coffee.

Edge Alley
600 Monroe Avenue, Suite 101
Memphis, TN 38103
(901) 425-2605
https://www.facebook.com/edgealley/

Brunch at Katie’s and North Claiborne Avenue in the Treme


My last day in New Orleans is always a little sad, but for this Sunday morning, Darren Towns and I decided to head out to Katie’s, a restaurant in the Mid-City neighborhood of New Orleans, which somehow I had never been to. Although the place looked crowded, we were able to get right in, and I was impressed with the shady ambiance of the outdoor seating, although due to the heat, we opted to eat indoors. Katie’s is a full-service restaurant, offering a lot more than breakfast, yet breakfast is what we came for, and Katie’s is amazing. I chose a seafood omelette, asking them to exclude the green onions, which they did, and I enjoyed it very much. While we were enjoying our breakfast, the place crowded up very quickly, and there was soon an hour wait or more, so it’s a good idea to go early. I noticed that Katie’s also offers po-boys and hamburgers, so I will have to visit again when it isn’t breakfast. I don’t know how I missed this place for so long, but I won’t miss it anymore. After leaving there, we headed down to North Claiborne Avenue where there was supposed to be a coffee bar called Addiction, but it wasn’t open. Next door was a strange example of the oddities of gentrification, as the building was the old Clabon Theatre, but its current owners, who apparently didn’t know any better, painted the boarded-up front black, with a legend “The Clabon”, and then for some reason, a map of Claiborne Parish, on the opposite side of the state near Shreveport, showing the location of Homer and Haynesville and such. Of course Claiborne Parish and Claiborne Avenue and The Clabon theatre have nothing in common except having been named for the same governor of Louisiana. But apparently these millennials didn’t know that.

Katie’s Restaurant & Bar
3701 Iberville St
New Orleans, LA 70119
(504) 488-6582