Counting Down

One week from today I will be on an airplane to Dallas, Texas. My brother will pick me up at the airport. I will beg him to take me to "Mi Cocina" for Mexican food and a delicious beverage called
a Mambo Taxi. Depending on how well my flight goes, I may order a Mambo Limousine. It will be the perfect preface to the start of my mini-vacation.

I cannot wait for my trip. I am looking forward to Mardi Gras, but I am also looking forward to the time spent with my brother. We have a long car drive on Friday to New Orleans, but I am sure it will go by quickly--as long as he does not get us lost. I promise to keep my sarcastic comments to a minimum of two, maybe three.

I have been listening to Louis Armstrong this week, and craving beignets, gumbo, and red beans and rice. Our SoCal weather is back, with highs in the 70s and 80s this week, so the weather has not really called for me to fix such dishes. The Rev. and I are also on a bit of a health kick, and I have banned all white flour from the house, along with white rice. I grew up eating Uncle Ben's (it makes the best jambalaya), and the taste of Creole cuisine is not the same with brown rice. I read somewhere that New Orleans was behind Milwaukee as being one of the most unhealthiest cities. I grew up in New Orleans to parents of German heritage, so I am battling a double whammy of possessing the appreciation for a good bratwurst and beer along with loving making a roux with a cup of oil and a cup of flour. All in moderation, I know, but there are days you just want to start your day with a dozen fried oysters, snack on a gumbo, lunch on red beans, and squeeze in some bread pudding with whiskey sauce. I'm looking forward to reconnecting with old friends in my favorite city, but I am also looking forward to breaking bread with them.

It is going to be a good time.