I just got back from a lovely lunch with my friend Jenn, visiting from Detroit, where she works up in the film industry. We went to Parkway Bakery, not far from my place so she could get a French fry poboy:
Something, I guess, you can't get in Detroit. This is the closest to veganism you can find around here. I had the more mundane shrimp...or "shwimps" as they're sometimes called round here. (thanks again, Jenn!)
More interesting than the food, however, was the clientele. Sure, there were the regulars, New Orleanian folk, but a good mixture of ambiguously gay young men there too. Ambiguously gay, but very un-ambiguously non-local. Hey, I may not be able to tell if you're gay or not, but I can tell if you're from here.
Aside from the confusing ambiguity, I was even more confused as to why they seemed to congregate here of all places at lunch on a Thursday. Mysteries wrapped in an enigma, fried in lard and served on french bread.
Anyway, as I told her, I'm glad I'm not a young woman nowadays, because
11 comments:
O dear lord, first home-grown figs and now shrimp poboys. YOU'RE TORTURING ME.
You ever been to Parasol's in the Irish Channel? They're excellent.
Wait - there's a film industry in Detroit? That's way weirder than hipsters in a sandwich shop...
Of course, cause of all the excellent, excellent movies set in Detroit. Movies like... uhm....
peenee: sorry....but it's payback for that corn recipe you posted a while back...(and yep, I've been to Parasol's.)
muscato: I know...but really there is! A thriving one too...more than ours even.
Oh jason I find the hipster crowd and their affected habits to be too too jejune!
I also like "skrimps." :)
Kids these days! :)
But you're right, it's so hard to tell anymore. But I'm thinking that's a good thing. In a way.
Il duce, I'm with you. I cast a jaundiced, weary, cynical, aging eye at those whippersnapper hipsters. Especially when they carry that look into their 30's and beyond.
I would, however, cast a devouring and hungry eye at a French fry po' boy. Brilliant.
I was afraid to admit that that French Fry po' boy looked good.
Aww, I love that our dining experience made it onto your blog. It is wonderful when we have these wacky moments. You forgot to mention my dad's Chloris Leachman autographed DVD too.
oh Jenn...I *never* forget Cloris stories. That needs to be saved for a post of its own, I think, don't you?
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