a couple of nola stories from tony fitzpatrick
via vz
There is a legendary kind of fried chicken in New
Orleans. I don't mean Popeye's. At the wonderful
Jacques Imo's, on Oak street in Uptown; they serve
Austin Leslie's chicken . Nobody ever made better
fried chicken -- ever. My friend John Boutte, the
gifted creole soul singer, told me that Mr. Leslie
told him how he made his chicken -- he said it was all
in the cooking oil that Austin Leslie worked his magic
..."He put red, black, and white pepper in the oil
..BEFORE, the chicken was even dropped into it -- he
also added black and white pepper to the flour and
cornmeal-- and when it finished frying... when it was
still greasy-hot-- he drizzled pickle juice on it".
In south Louisiana ; Austin Leslie's chicken is
legendary-- as was he, himself. He was a gentleman
chef and made his chicken at Pampy's and other
restaurants in the crescent city . He also spent a
lot of time teaching other chefs how to make 'Austin
Leslie Chicken'. I hope they listened . I ate 'Austin
Leslie chicken' for the first time the other night
and it is the chicken by which I will judge all other
chicken. Before I bit into it , Boutte, in a very
serious tone of voice said; "You realize.... this is
Austin Leslie's chicken....". After one bite I
understood the reverence for Mr. Leslie's chicken.
Each piece has a tart slice of pickle on top. The
fried skin is the most crackly, flavorful thing I've
ever eaten.
Often , when you eat with friends, you offer them a
taste of your dish-- unless you have Mr. Leslie's
chicken-- I'm not giving anybody ANY.
It is more like--"No... you can't taste my chicken --
fuck you-- get your own Austin Leslie chicken".
Mr Leslie also inspired a television series -- the
short-lived, but very sharply observed 'Frank's
Place', which starred Tim Reid as the elegant and
funny chef. I don't know a whole lot more about Austin
Leslie.
I know that people down here regarded him as a
gentleman; in the old-school sense of that word. I
know that the chefs he passed his recipe on to have
not changed it even a little. I also know that Mr.
Leslie was a victim of Katrina. He was a diabetic and
while waiting on a rooftop he suffered and cut that
later became infected-- and months later he died in
Atlanta as a result of this. 2 and a half years later;
Katrina is still exacting its awful price.
Last night, I listened to the great Paul Sanchez
sing his reworking of Randy Newman's gorgeous and
elegaic 'Louisiana'-- It's breath-taking-- Paul and
John Boutte changed this lovely song with lyrics
that speak to the anger, sadness, and furious loss of
Katrina-- they don't call it 'Katrina' anymore....
down here they call it 'The Thing'. I worry about Paul
Sanchez -- he is an uncommonly decent and generous
human being who can not leave this place. I certainly
understand this . New Orleans gets in your heart
quickly. It is run by corrupt , incompetent
knuckleheads; and populated by soulful dreamers like
Paul and John Boutte, and Susan Cowsill-- and the
many other gifted story-tellers and singers and
musicians of Frenchmen street, the Quarter , and
Uptown, and the whole damned city.
I always feel like they have made a deal with
themselves: they will deal with ...The thing, the
lousy pay, the inequities and unfairness of the music
business.... just don't take away their joy.
"We were always crazy down here... but now we've gone
mad."
--Paul Sanchez
New Orleans--
There is a sign in the Aidan Gill Shaving Store--
thats right , a Shaving Store-- that declares 'Beware
Of Pick-Pockets and Loose Women'-- I'll do my best, I
thought . Mr. Gill's store is on Magazine street here
in New Orleans and it is a place that probably used to
be called a Barber Shop -- they sell all manner of
spiffy old-timey shaving stuff -- brushes and cups and
scented shaving soaps for men . You can also== for 35
dollars-- get an amazing shave. Which I did. They give
you the whole shebang -- the hot towels, the
skin-softener, the crazy-hot lather-- and the menacing
straight-razor shave; applied by the equally menacing
Andre-- who didn't exactly put me at ease by asking me
, "Y'all a Yankee?"-- When I answered in the
affirmative, he replied, "I know some Yankee's"--
whic-- given the fact he was weilding a
straight-razor-- didn't do much for my comfort level.
I shouldn't have worried -- there is something
grown-up about getting a shave-- something mid-century
about it -- it's the kind of thing your dad used to
do.
My wife hates when I don't shave -- I shave maybe
once or twice a week -- my stubble is reddish and
gray-- and my face looks like a Cocker-Spaniel's ass
if I let it go for a week. I look like the world's
best paid piss-bum when I don't shave. So I walked out
on to Magazine street feeling....clean.
Magazine street is a bit like my neighborhood in
Chicago -- Bucktown -- it's full of hip stores and
restraunts that I'm not cool enough to eat in -- it
was also the scene of some of the most Brutal looting
in the aftermath of Katrina -- George Morales; who
manages the Ace Hardware store on Magazine, fought off
looters with shot-guns and Machetes -- he is only
grateful that he didn't have to kill anyone -- the
police were otherwise engaged in rescue efforts -- he
even understood the necessary kind of looting-- food,
medicine, diapers and such -- he took issue with the
other kind -- "I saw a 70-year old lady carrying a
power-saw out of my store-- I said , Ma'am -- what the
hell you gonna do with a power-saw?" She dropped it ,
and walked away. George sees his neighbors in a
different light now -- many of them came to his aid--
helping him fight off looters -- he gave away a lot
of things -- flashlights, charcoal, and things like
that. In is voice is a catch that you hear a lot down
here-- the verbal tremor of people tying to make sense
of events that make no sense -- He relates that he
didn't see a police officer, national guardsman, or
any other law enforcement for 5 days -- his first
responders were fish and game officers.
In the lower 9th ward, my friend Keith Calhoun is
building an arts center called L-9-- Keith and his
wife Chandra are amazing photographers who have been
chronicling life in this neighborhood for over 30
years-- they work with kids in this center providing
what meager art supplies they can afford -- Down the
road I will post an address where people can send
donations-- in any amount-- I spent this morning with
Keith and his nephew Isaiah-- who just recently
finished service in Iraq. Keith and Chandra's photos
are amazing-- There are Portraits of Fat's Domino --
who lives here, Sister Gertrude Morgan on the steps of
her church-- the rebirth jazz band , who formed as a
result of Katrina, to revitalize this place.
These photos are an amazing document of life. What
Kieth is doing is truly inspiring -- and he is
culturally holding a neighborhood, and a history
together, almost single-handedly. Bless him.
Catastrophe has made people here adapt-- to do
something with nothing-- and they have learned the
human lesson of sharing. When they finish working they
gather on each other's porches and tell each other the
day's stories -- the lesson the day has taught them --
they are not poor , they are alive.
Tony Fitzpatrick --
more TF images / you mat spot some joe ely and steve earle album covers in there.
|
via vz
- bill 2-15-2008 9:03 pm
There is a legendary kind of fried chicken in New
Orleans. I don't mean Popeye's. At the wonderful
Jacques Imo's, on Oak street in Uptown; they serve
Austin Leslie's chicken . Nobody ever made better
fried chicken -- ever. My friend John Boutte, the
gifted creole soul singer, told me that Mr. Leslie
told him how he made his chicken -- he said it was all
in the cooking oil that Austin Leslie worked his magic
..."He put red, black, and white pepper in the oil
..BEFORE, the chicken was even dropped into it -- he
also added black and white pepper to the flour and
cornmeal-- and when it finished frying... when it was
still greasy-hot-- he drizzled pickle juice on it".
In south Louisiana ; Austin Leslie's chicken is
legendary-- as was he, himself. He was a gentleman
chef and made his chicken at Pampy's and other
restaurants in the crescent city . He also spent a
lot of time teaching other chefs how to make 'Austin
Leslie Chicken'. I hope they listened . I ate 'Austin
Leslie chicken' for the first time the other night
and it is the chicken by which I will judge all other
chicken. Before I bit into it , Boutte, in a very
serious tone of voice said; "You realize.... this is
Austin Leslie's chicken....". After one bite I
understood the reverence for Mr. Leslie's chicken.
Each piece has a tart slice of pickle on top. The
fried skin is the most crackly, flavorful thing I've
ever eaten.
Often , when you eat with friends, you offer them a
taste of your dish-- unless you have Mr. Leslie's
chicken-- I'm not giving anybody ANY.
It is more like--"No... you can't taste my chicken --
fuck you-- get your own Austin Leslie chicken".
Mr Leslie also inspired a television series -- the
short-lived, but very sharply observed 'Frank's
Place', which starred Tim Reid as the elegant and
funny chef. I don't know a whole lot more about Austin
Leslie.
I know that people down here regarded him as a
gentleman; in the old-school sense of that word. I
know that the chefs he passed his recipe on to have
not changed it even a little. I also know that Mr.
Leslie was a victim of Katrina. He was a diabetic and
while waiting on a rooftop he suffered and cut that
later became infected-- and months later he died in
Atlanta as a result of this. 2 and a half years later;
Katrina is still exacting its awful price.
Last night, I listened to the great Paul Sanchez
sing his reworking of Randy Newman's gorgeous and
elegaic 'Louisiana'-- It's breath-taking-- Paul and
John Boutte changed this lovely song with lyrics
that speak to the anger, sadness, and furious loss of
Katrina-- they don't call it 'Katrina' anymore....
down here they call it 'The Thing'. I worry about Paul
Sanchez -- he is an uncommonly decent and generous
human being who can not leave this place. I certainly
understand this . New Orleans gets in your heart
quickly. It is run by corrupt , incompetent
knuckleheads; and populated by soulful dreamers like
Paul and John Boutte, and Susan Cowsill-- and the
many other gifted story-tellers and singers and
musicians of Frenchmen street, the Quarter , and
Uptown, and the whole damned city.
I always feel like they have made a deal with
themselves: they will deal with ...The thing, the
lousy pay, the inequities and unfairness of the music
business.... just don't take away their joy.
"We were always crazy down here... but now we've gone
mad."
--Paul Sanchez
- bill 2-15-2008 9:03 pm [add a comment]
New Orleans--
There is a sign in the Aidan Gill Shaving Store--
thats right , a Shaving Store-- that declares 'Beware
Of Pick-Pockets and Loose Women'-- I'll do my best, I
thought . Mr. Gill's store is on Magazine street here
in New Orleans and it is a place that probably used to
be called a Barber Shop -- they sell all manner of
spiffy old-timey shaving stuff -- brushes and cups and
scented shaving soaps for men . You can also== for 35
dollars-- get an amazing shave. Which I did. They give
you the whole shebang -- the hot towels, the
skin-softener, the crazy-hot lather-- and the menacing
straight-razor shave; applied by the equally menacing
Andre-- who didn't exactly put me at ease by asking me
, "Y'all a Yankee?"-- When I answered in the
affirmative, he replied, "I know some Yankee's"--
whic-- given the fact he was weilding a
straight-razor-- didn't do much for my comfort level.
I shouldn't have worried -- there is something
grown-up about getting a shave-- something mid-century
about it -- it's the kind of thing your dad used to
do.
My wife hates when I don't shave -- I shave maybe
once or twice a week -- my stubble is reddish and
gray-- and my face looks like a Cocker-Spaniel's ass
if I let it go for a week. I look like the world's
best paid piss-bum when I don't shave. So I walked out
on to Magazine street feeling....clean.
Magazine street is a bit like my neighborhood in
Chicago -- Bucktown -- it's full of hip stores and
restraunts that I'm not cool enough to eat in -- it
was also the scene of some of the most Brutal looting
in the aftermath of Katrina -- George Morales; who
manages the Ace Hardware store on Magazine, fought off
looters with shot-guns and Machetes -- he is only
grateful that he didn't have to kill anyone -- the
police were otherwise engaged in rescue efforts -- he
even understood the necessary kind of looting-- food,
medicine, diapers and such -- he took issue with the
other kind -- "I saw a 70-year old lady carrying a
power-saw out of my store-- I said , Ma'am -- what the
hell you gonna do with a power-saw?" She dropped it ,
and walked away. George sees his neighbors in a
different light now -- many of them came to his aid--
helping him fight off looters -- he gave away a lot
of things -- flashlights, charcoal, and things like
that. In is voice is a catch that you hear a lot down
here-- the verbal tremor of people tying to make sense
of events that make no sense -- He relates that he
didn't see a police officer, national guardsman, or
any other law enforcement for 5 days -- his first
responders were fish and game officers.
In the lower 9th ward, my friend Keith Calhoun is
building an arts center called L-9-- Keith and his
wife Chandra are amazing photographers who have been
chronicling life in this neighborhood for over 30
years-- they work with kids in this center providing
what meager art supplies they can afford -- Down the
road I will post an address where people can send
donations-- in any amount-- I spent this morning with
Keith and his nephew Isaiah-- who just recently
finished service in Iraq. Keith and Chandra's photos
are amazing-- There are Portraits of Fat's Domino --
who lives here, Sister Gertrude Morgan on the steps of
her church-- the rebirth jazz band , who formed as a
result of Katrina, to revitalize this place.
These photos are an amazing document of life. What
Kieth is doing is truly inspiring -- and he is
culturally holding a neighborhood, and a history
together, almost single-handedly. Bless him.
Catastrophe has made people here adapt-- to do
something with nothing-- and they have learned the
human lesson of sharing. When they finish working they
gather on each other's porches and tell each other the
day's stories -- the lesson the day has taught them --
they are not poor , they are alive.
Tony Fitzpatrick --
- bill 2-15-2008 9:05 pm [add a comment]
more TF images / you mat spot some joe ely and steve earle album covers in there.
- bill 2-15-2008 9:16 pm [add a comment]