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Ruby Ridge Living
 Étouffée Brutus?
So, darlings, I’ve just returned from a fabulous little getaway to New Orleans. Yes, that’s right; with Ruby in town the Big Easy just got a little bit bigger and a whole lot easier. Just between you and I, petals, I started eating the moment I landed and didn’t stop until I took off. The food and the atmosphere down there are just that fabulous. With all the fish from the delta and the seafood from the gulf, the French, Caribbean, and Creole influences, my taste buds were having Mardi Gras in my mouth. My favorite dish was a shrimp étouffée omelet with a side of grits and biscuits at this little diner way the hell out past the Garden District. Oh my God, it was so good I schlepped out there twice. Any place that plays Ike Turner, has transgender waitresses and great eggs ... I’m all over it! One of the locals there also shared his best hangover remedy and I kid you not, he drinks YooHoo and Bourbon. I only have one word my babies: yikes!!
Now, those of you who know me well (no, not in the biblical sense you gutter-minded tramps!), know that I am a combat tourist. Sweet peas, I am up at the crack of dawn and out the door in sensible shoes just to soak in the sights and sounds of the city as it wakes up, and it’s amazing what a different perspective you can get at that time of day. Don’t believe me? Well, next time you’re in Las Vegas, walk down the strip at 5 in the morning. No crowds, no traffic. I tell you, it’s almost zen-like. This early morning strategy works really well in a city like New Orleans, where the nightlife is touristy and crowded, and the humidity is off-the-charts during the heat of the day. It was such a treat walking through the quiet old neighborhoods with these gorgeous historic homes, ornate wrought iron fences, oak trees, Spanish moss, and really interesting above-ground cemeteries. Aahhh ... good times!
My one token act as a tourist was the obligatory beignets and chicory coffee breakfast at Café Du Mond down in the French Quarter. Apart from that, I really couldn’t get out of the Quarter fast enough. During the day it’s just so crowded and tacky and, trust me, I usually revere tacky! But before you accuse me of being anti-tourist, I admit, when the Riverboat Natchez started playing Scott Joplin on its steam powered calliope, I had to grin from ear to ear. I just couldn’t help myself.
Cherubs, if I were from New Orleans, I think blood would shoot from my ears every time anyone mentioned “the Utah Jazz.” It’s so sad that an NBA franchise could slip away from a city like New Orleans, a city that is so chock-full of energy, music, history, and joie de vivre, only to end up beached in an antiseptic wasteland like Salt Lake City. It’s so ironic that Alanis Morissette would be freaked, and thinking about it makes my head hurt. For the love of God, someone pass the YooHoo.
Ruby Ridge is one of the more opinionated members of the Utah Cyber Sluts, a Camp Drag group of performers who raise funds and support local charities. Her opinions are her own and fluctuate wildly due to irritability and having to mow the lawn five times already this spring.
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