NOV DEC 2005 NEW
10/28/05
4:26 PM
Page 20
— new orleans —
www.winesimple.com
NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2005
H A R D L E S S ON S I N T HE B IG E A S Y As New Orleans rebuilds, a storied tradition of food and drink struggles to survive — and long-hidden crises come to the fore
PHOTO CREDITS FROM LEFT TO RIGHT: TROMBONE PLAYER: STEVE STEVENS; EMORY THOMPSON: STEVE STEVENS; BEACHED BOAT AND COPTER: GEOFF HILL
BY STEVE STEVENS
H
ere’s something odd : In a city with some of the richest food and
drink traditions in the world, my most meaningful cultural experience was dinner with a homeless guy. Life is, as they say, full of surprises. He was standing by the bright red and yellow Lucky Dog stand in the French Quarter, on the corner of Bienville and Bourbon Streets. I was there snapping pictures for a magazine article. It was about three in the afternoon on Aug. 19, just 10 days before Hurricane Katrina would turn the city into a soggy war zone, but on that Friday, it was still the old New Orleans: the quirky one from A Confederacy Of Dunces; the festive one fixed in the minds of millions of Mardi Gras revelers; the tragic one from the pen of Tennessee Williams; and the personal one that I remember from so many of my own blurry trips to the French Quarter. A marvelous gumbo of hoboes and tourists, soccer moms and burnt-out party girls, all wandering Bourbon Street’s famous filth in the midafternoon sun. It was a sight only Bacchus, the benevolent Roman god of revelry, could love. My new friend and future dinner date told me his name was Emory Thompson, a 50-year-old born and raised in The Big Easy. He had a broad smile and a kid’s unbridled laugh, which first erupted when he saw my pen that lights up when you click it. Image on left: A trombone player works Jackson Square before Katrina. Center image: From left, Frank the Lucky Dog vendor and native New Orleanian Emory Thompson. Images on right: Moving beached boats and downed helicopters are a small part of the rebuilding of New Orleans.
20 I the wine report