A Pig Eats in NOLA (pt.2)

Like I said, our trip was mostly aimed at warmth and eating. So while it was blissfully warm out, it also happened to be incredibly humid. (Which despite my skin and makeup looking phenomenal for the first time since Hawaii, my hair ended up being a legitimate knot.) Whatever though. I like to think I rocked some sort of Blake Lively messy side-braid and most of my pictures don't have closeups so it looks cool from far away. #lifehack

The food was fantastic. We ate at some chains but this will be the first time in ages I withheld judgement. Good food is good food and the fresh seafood was impossible to beat. When you live in the Midwest, you are naturally suspicious of all seafood and seafood bearing restaurants. Fresh? Just flown in? What, do you FedEx it overnight with my Amazon order? Everyday??? Is that why this meal costs exactly my rent and cell phone bill combined? 

In any case, read on if you're on a diet or not hungry and are a masochist.

Oysters. Oysters are everywhere. If you're a texture person, I beg you to make your first time trying Oysters somewhere off of a coast. They are velvety, smooth (not chewy) and just a little bit briney. Not much, but just barely enough to make you want one more to try and catch that drop of the ocean to savor one more time.

Oh, so you like garlic and butter and some spicy seasoning that I can't quite identify as cajun or creole, breadcrumbs, parmesan, and epic amounts of sodium? Why, yes, I do, too. Charbroiled oysters are where it's at. This was our first meal in NOLA and it set us up for an addiction to the shelled delights that I can't quite shake. 

We were under the impression and unfortunate assumption that Crawfish/Seafood Boils would be a big thing in Louisiana,  so we fruitlessly searched and asked around to no avail. We did, however, find a fun tourist spot to sit down and engage in the delicate act of eating crawfish. 

By delicate, I mean not at all, because you man-handle this crustacean accepting that you will, in fact, end up with shells in your hair and lemon juice in your eye. It's not a sexy meal to watch someone eat but the reward is sweet, indeed. 

I'd only ever had crawfish in buffets before but those will never compare. They literally pale in comparison to these delights and although I wither at the whole animal concept when it's presented to me to take into hand (literally) if I want to eat, these were the tasty morsels to convince me that it is oh, SO worth it.

A favorite food of mine has made a monster out of me. Fried chicken. I don't know what it is, but I have a serious affection for good and thoughtful fried chicken. I recently tried that chain stuff and was legitimately sick for a day after eating it. Manfriend and I have put it on our 'banned list' unless we're having a biscuit and honey packet shortage that we just can't overcome.

Anyway, Fiorella's on the edge of the Quarter is a little den of heaven. Seafood, although delicious can feel insubstantial and sometimes you just want to be full.  This fried chicken, although different in texture and flavor was crispy and all the right kinds of juicy.  The breading was just heavy enough where it wouldn't peel away from the meat leaving you with the fake battle we all wage of "Should I eat the best part of this fried chicken or pretend like I'm in it for the meat...?", where you inevitably lose and make some excuse about hungry children in Africa or whatever.

A shining star that I can't get over is the Red Beans and Rice-- the side that came without flourish to our chicken. What the what? How have I been missing this important line of Sir Mix-a-lot's greatest hit and the South's staple? Nobody told me it would be this good. I mean, there's bacon in it. Or some kind of bacony bit. I don't even need to know but I will dream of this meal for years to come and I will make many attempts on red beans and rice in the interim.

Mint Juleps When in the south, you should be required to drink Mint Juleps. In New Orleans in particular, people are partial to the Sazerac. It's not my cup of tea but it's bold if you like sweet citrus flavors with hints of Absinthe. I personally loved the Gin Fizz I had at the Roosevelt Hotel. The bartender was absolutely artistic in how he made this cocktail and it was worth the hype. Whoever invented that little diddy back in the 30's gets my personal thanks and a high-five.

The local beer was good although I can't say I had much of it. Beer gets me full and full means less room for food. So, there's that.



Merchant
Our hotel was next to this adorable restaurant, Merchant. Aside from everyone inside being insanely friendly, the food was phenomenal. Originally we went in just to get grub and go but chatting with the staff, and who I think was the owner of tags and our epic search of a seafood boil left us laughing and too entertained to leave. Off the beaten path, this place is adorable and won't smell like tourist (i.e. me). Sure to become a staple for the city, based on staff alone but don't worry the crepes (arugula, proscuitto and balsamic) are a definite given to winning you over.

We had crepes at Cafe du Monde and Cafe Beignet, and I won't write about them because the lines speak for themselves. Just go. Go often. Bring something to do while you wait, because there's always a line, but do not mistake this for a tourism trap-- it's loyalty and worthiness leaking out of glorious tiny balls of dough. So just go.

The capstone to our trip was our grand finale dinner. We sought far and wide for a seafood boil and despite not having experienced one first-hand, this made up for it.

Turtle Soup
Yes. It's exactly what it sounds like and I haven't been able to look at the turtle emoji since. Why I feel so much guilt, I don't know because I probably eat foods that people's Grandma's used to keep as pets, too. But with some encouragement, I pressed past my memories to dive in. The stew is a dark and brooding mixture-- undercurrents of heat swam in each bite but not enough to actually burn you-- just enough to keep you waiting for the bite so you continue to eat until you realize that the low and fleeting warmth it all you'll get. The texture of the turtle was similar to a small, cooked oyster. This particular version at Tableau wasn't so well done that I'd write home about it, but for the sake of trying it, I did, and I didn't hate it. If someone tells me there is a place with the most amazing turtle soup in the world, I will go and try it again with my head held high and full of expectation.

Frissee
What is more French than Beignets and Frissee? Not much, and I was most certainly elated to try this dish. The sun was setting and I was buzzed from my French 75, so upon finishing my bout with guilt and turtle soup, I devoured this salad. With all intents to order an entree, I was stuffed and pleased that I had to force myself to order dessert. Don't be fooled by the playful greens-- the potatoes are substantial and covered in a clarified butter that counteracts the vinaigrette, and you won't have enough time to breathe between bites leaving you full and content.

We had some butterscotch pudding to finish and there was no time for photos. You'll just have to go down to New Orleans and check out these spots yourself. But not alone. Because I'll go with you.

My heart goes out to you New Orleans for opening up a world of flavor and a dimension of eating I'll never forget!

xoxo

Relax, it's Summertime!

There are a lot of songs going through my head that ring up under summer cliche but somehow none of them seem to capture the joy that summer can evoke.

The southern half of our country can probably start rolling their eyes now, but nothing is so sweet in the Midwest (or "North" if you're of the new school) as the warm scent of grass and evaporating rain climbing through your open windows.

It's overwhelming to try and do everything-- the picnics, the parties, the relaxing -- it all takes time, commitment to being organized and frankly can be straight up stressful. And although I wouldn't trade being exhausted by the endless on-the-go that summer brings, fall is often a welcome respite.

But instead of wishing away one of my favorite seasons, I'm going to try and squeeze in a few extra hours into my days specifically for myself so that the next few months don't seem so daunting.

• Aside from trying to train for the half, I want to read more books. I'm considering converting back to paper but audio books are perfect for road trips (of which I have many) and they have been a great treat during my runs (don't worry Queen Bey still makes her usual appearance during the jaunt).

• I want to start cleaning out my closet (again). The purge feels so refreshing and kind of freeing to get rid of pieces that don't fit you 'just so'.

• Of course, I want to be great about my training for the race. And I think this will be a great way to learn some discipline for the sake of learning.

• I want to start building up my barcart. As a former bartender, it seems foolish not to treat yourself to one great drink at home every once in a while. Obviously wine is amazing but there's something special about whipping up a drink and sipping it in your pajama pants. Does that count as a life hack?

• I want to go on a road trip to find the perfect Midwest seafood. After #KChohandJCoDoNO my heart still aches for the brine of a fresh oyster or the sharp kick of creole seasonings. I won't settle for the fact that fresh is the only version of best-- not with all the amazing chefs and restaurants popping up in the city like hotcakes (see what I did there?).

I just made up that last one but I think it's important to have goals that aren't too serious. It gives the others perspective and you something to look forward to. No love lost if I don't find the perfectly tasty seafood treat between ND and WI but I can at least enjoy the thrill of the hunt. (Think: California Dark Beer Tour 2009).

Side note: I'm thinking of taking my food adventures on the road and investing in a camera to capture all their glory. What do you think?

What will you do to keep sane in these seemingly crazy summers?

Moved by the Stars ... to Run?

It isn't very often I get time to stargaze. I have a lot of trouble grasping the vastness that encompasses our solar system and the galaxies beyond when I'm not looking toward the heavens for the answers they might provide. But in most of the big decisions of my life that come in the form of an epiphany I have noted that they are always made under watch of the moon and the Milky Way.

If you've followed my Insta or read my last post, you know I've been traveling for love and leisure alike as of late. Wedding season is upon us and it has made me consider life quite a bit lately. Perhaps it's the repetition of telling people what you're doing with your life that makes you wish you had something cooler to say, or the inevitable groan that follows when people ask you, "When are you getting married?".

Never-the-less, I finally have a moment to gain some perspective on life and last night, while searching for Orion's Belt with man friend, something in me shifted and I made a decision (or two).

I have wanted to be a "runner" for a while. I have run casually in the past and even done a race or two with friends for fun. I thought that maybe the high would last long enough to propel me to my next race and I could begin a stead habit of running for sport and leisure. I've been slacking wholeheartedly in the exercise category also, so it felt inevitable that I would have to make a choice sooner than later. (My metabolism has contentedly decided to catch up to my age and take it's sweet toll on my body-- something I had hoped would happen a few years down the line yet.)

Alas, now that the dust has settled for a little while and with the peace of a relaxing Sunday with nowhere to be, a clear head can prosper. Which apparently means using the inspiration from your friends to sign up for a half marathon.

Um, what? So much for staying relaxed, dust settling, and that kind of whatnot.

I figured I should stop wishing I could and making excuses for why I shouldn't (middle school sprained ankle anyone?). Turning this introspection into action seems like a big leap, and although I'm terrified that I'll get injured, die or embarrass myself in some other way on this run, I've got just over 4 months to become the "runner" I always wanted to be.

Any advice out there? (Excluding my little brother who happens to run marathons for funsies and ran college track-- stop showing off already, jeesh!)

Maybe my next epiphany will be more leisure oriented like Ice Cream Fridays or Siesta Sundays.

Look forward to more scribblings on this likely painful but exciting experience--inside and out.

Monster Dash Half Marathon, I'm comin' for ya!

XO

A Pig in NOLA (pt.1)

Read this with a southern accent if you can. It's better that way.

Tourisme 

I'm finally just coming off of my post-vacation high, and accepting that it's over. That real-world-blues that follows shortly after pretending like you aren't a tourist while blatantly doing touristy things is heavy on the heart and almost makes you wonder why you went.

Almost.

I went to #NOLA ya'll! For those of you not in the know, that's Nahlens to you. And boy was it a trip. 

Let me start by saying I never vacation. Like truly vacation. I bought multiple Dr. Scholl's products while on this trip so let that paint the picture for you of how into this I got. I travel quite a bit, but it's almost always based on work which means I always have an agenda--some other motivation that makes me go somewhere for the benefit of getting something done. Last time I checked, vacations are for exactly the opposite. 

And so it was.

After an extremely impulsive afternoon, I found myself with tickets to the Big Easy. And because I never actually take vacations, I didn't actually believe it would happen. With any other sort of good news, I sing it like I'm a Disney villain with a great melody. But this time I was so nervous something would go wrong, that I just sat back and ignored it until the day before I had to start plane hopping. At this point I was more concerned with my 3oz containers that I didn't take the time to research or make any plans.

This is so incredibly unlike me, but so is vacationing so I just rolled with it. Kathy, my partner in crime, and I had only two things in mind: getting to where it was warm hot and stuffing our little brown faces with seafood like the gluttons we aimed to be.

We luckily have similar interests in history, architecture and food so once we hit the city we were thoroughly giddy to just be in a new place, no schedule required. When does that ever happen? When do you ever get to just completely be somewhere and know you are fully present? My mind was genuinely blown away and I will say that overstimulated is an understatement.


New Orleans in itself is fabulous. It's a city that doesn't pretend or give any pretenses about who she is (I think it's a she?). She's flamboyant and romantic and everyone we met was more than happy to tell you how much fun you'd have in this Southeast Sin City.

Bourbon Street is everything you expect it to be at night: full of temptation with beer and daiquiris spilling into the cobblestone streets. In a city filled with this much neon, you feel like you're in a Girls Gone Wild audition on the Vegas strip. It's a bit racy for my Saturn Return-blood but it's hilarious if you accept it for what it is. Or if you imagine a petticoat version of it (I had Louisiana Purchase on the mind a lot).

Of course, in a place hundreds of miles away from your friends and family, you would expect that you run into someone you know and Kathy and I did just that. I think that's the kind of magic Bourbon Street harbors; it's quirky enough where you are not really that shocked and aside from my maxi dress doubling as a bar rag on the post-downpour streets, I'd say I would have enjoyed people watching into the wee hours of the morning. (Note: The bars don't close in New Orleans with the exception of one hour every year. One. Hour.)

We actually stumbled onto Bourbon by accident. We arrived early and needed to kill time before check-in and found ourselves wandering 75% of the French Quarter before dinner time. My fitness tracker told me we walked roughly a half marathon. On the first day. Genius, right?

Giving my feet a break and trying to look discreet about it.

Wrong. Insert the inserts. In a desperate attempt to save my feet, I tried multiple Dr. Scholl's inserts and only met demi-success with one set. I only tell you this because it was a significant part of my morning so if you go to NOLA, wear comfortable sandals (Not closed shoes because: Your feet + humidity for 12 hours = just throw those shoes away.)

Preservation Hall. I love Louis Armstrong so it's an honor to be in a city that adores him and keeps his spirit alive through his brassy tool. Everywhere you went there was music trickling in from not too far or next to you if you're lucky. See my favorite tuba here. So when presented with going to a jazz concert I imagined some variation on our Middle School Jazz Pops concert right before the whole band came on stage-- some organized situation with chairs and tiered seating but I couldn't have been more wrong. Preservation hall is the size of my college dorm room with the closets removed. It's dark and all exposed wood with a few benches meant for you to snipe for relief on your toes should you have been lucky enough to wait the hour in line to get up front. As soon as the music began, however, I was sent back into time.

Louie, Ella and the whole gang were going to show up in a bit to play me some jazz in our parlour room. Suddenly I was wary of police coming in to bust us for violating noise restrictions but we were going to bring down the house in the meantime. 

The beauty of the south is nobody is in a rush and it worked so well because neither were we. The majority of our time was spent "lollygagging" as my grandma would call it. Along the way we stopped for some museum tours and accidentally stumbled on a National Mint museum. My favorite, of course, was the Pharmaceutical Museum. We walked past it and it caught my eye when it was closed, which only heightened my giddiness when it was open for $5 tours the next day. The curator was phenomenal and presented a plethora of information on 19th century medicine that makes you question current medicine considering the outrageous treatments society used to think helped them but in fact killed them (think Belladonna and gold cased pills).

The tourism part--if you embrace it-- is very entertaining in a place like New Orleans. People love to tell you about the city, it's history, it's nooks and crannies and I loved hearing about it. It led to some amazing historical sites and of course fabulous places to eat. In fact, they're especially adamant about the food. It was glorious. Oh, what did we eat? Well funny story...

Lessons I learned from NOLA

I learned more than just a few things when I went on vacation this week. Of course, these lessons learned the hard way will undoubtedly set the scene and cultivate laughter

1. Manicures matter. If you’re a nail freak like I am, get a gel manicure and get serious about it. It’s genuinely disturbing to see chipped polish in an otherwise perfect photo and you will have less grumbles over it later.

2. Walking shoes. I think Birkenstocks were made for walking, right? I have ruined a pair of sandals because in the city of--Nah’Ahlans, as it’s pronounced unsarcastically--will ruin your cute accessory sandals. I am sure there’s another brand out there but if they’re ugly you’ll also be miserable so make a compromise and invest.

a. The alternative to this is buying multiple Dr. Scholl’s products only to ifnd they are less than functional in sandals and don’t bear well in the rain. Mhmm. INVEST!!!

3. Be patient. Travel itself took forever and my trip home took an entire 20 hours of a day pending layovers and gaps between flight schedules (in my defense I did stop in 4 states and fly two different airlines). But that kind of endurance is not natural so figure out a way to deal with it. We saw so many flight delays due to maintenance and weather that it is bound to happen to you. The odds are stacked—we were just lucky this time. (Also nobody wants to go to Minnesota so we’re lone-wolves in that route).

4. Be even more patient. We had a day of epic failures. The service industry is a weekend biz, which means Mondays (sometimes Sundays) and Tuesdays are mommy’s night out. Call ahead because with cellphones, the internet and a little voice to voice, you can save yourself miles and miles of walking heartache as you search for a Ginger Mint Julep to no avail based on these Service Industry Saturdays.

5. Plan. Figure out what you want to do or at the very least-- don't want to do on your trip. My co-pilot and I had the sole intention of eating anything and everything when we got to the Big Easy, and that is exactly what we did. We had a list of recommendations that fell through based on the fact that we were only walking the city, not wanting to miss a moment of a too-quick taxi.

No Draft, Just Writing

Holy busy Spring!

What's the latest update on the Xo front?

WELL...

This is what I look like when I travel/
send lame texts to my friends during the work day. 

This little piggy went to the Minnesota market and ran around town like it ain't no thang. Translation: I went to yoga a lot, raided Trader Joe's (Sorry Nat) and had a girl's night where we stayed up past our bedtimes and did yoga moves in the living room.

I started a new side-gig working in Social Media with a company I met out of Chicago. Learning a new role has been a really interesting process. It's been a long time since I've been the "new guy" at anything and it's weird feeling like I'm blindfolded running a maze. You get so used to knowing everything-- where to go, what to do, who to ask-- that it's stressful to not just understand. That's a confidence I think we take for granted no matter how much we gripe and whine about the daily challenges we meet in our jobs.

Overall, it's a great experience-- Social Media, Writing, Public Relations, Travel & Food. I want to keep my toes dipped into all of these ponds and right now I've got a decent handle on a few of them, so it makes each week interesting to say the least. Don't worry, I won't tip over... yet.

It makes me miss learning, though. Part of that could come from the fact that I ran into one of my favorite college professors at the Twins game, and part of it can come from the End of School season that is upon us. It's like Back to School only you feel like you really have no excuse not to kick your life into gear because you've got "less" on your plate. I feel my molecules starting to move a little faster in anticipation of our 16-year habit that we haven't quite kicked.

I don't plan on watching TRL or hanging out in Park Point all summer so instead I plan to really hone in on the projects I've got going before I take on my next one in the fall. It's taking everything in me to not do it all at once. Literally, as I sit here with tabs open on my future project, I just want to tell myself "Go"/write about it on here so I have a reason to start on it now, but I'm still really working on being fair to myself about how I allot my time and energy.

Does anyone else feel like their permanent student is leaking out this spring?

Like you're squirrely but know that if you take on anything else, you might implode? But then part of you wants to? No? Yes??

The Dress

It's Monday, and I know you're already thinking about the weekend, so let me just tell you what you should be doing this Saturday...

I have seven, (7), sieben, sept, yes-- siete-- weddings this year (a personal record!)

A custom made dress from Linyage. Mind. Blown.

I am not married myself and so the whole process is a general mystery to me. The tidbits I get from my girlfriends are useful and I make notes for the "someday" that is the date I put a boulder on my finger.

However, in the meantime, I still don't retain the general knowledge the comes with wedding planning. Where did everyone get their to-do list? Does it come with the ring like when you have a baby and your doctor tells you all the general things you should know about birthing? Is there a pamphlet I threw away as junk mail???

In all of the joy that surrounds weddings, one thing fascinates me more than most-- the dress.

I have a Pinterest board like every other basic bitch about wedding things, but dresses encompass the bulk of it because they are so astonishing. How is it, that we don't wear them on the reg-reg? mmm.. cost/practicality/value in rarity aside, it's safe to say I think they're truly something to be treasured.

Until recently, this was all hypothetical because, as I've said, I'm not married and as a child of divorce, I always feared I'd have a Carrie Bradshaw meltdown if I ever tried one on, scarring me for life. But when the ladies of Linyage asked me to model some of their pieces for them I could not have been more honored.

I didn't know what to expect other than those big clips that make the dress look like it fits when you try on something that you haven't been measured for.

Wrong.

Having met the Lindsay, the co-founder and designer of Linyage, in-person only a handful of times before, and subconsciously refusing to send my measurements (because I've been off the wagon), I was astounded that I stepped into a dress that fit perfectly. Why don't all of my clothes fit like this???

I will admit, I was feeling hideous and bloaty that day, having come directly from drill and carrying the water weight that eating out/being on the road for 5 days does not allow most to feel their most glamorous. But despite all my best efforts to feel self-conscious, (and the help of the one-woman glam-squad, Flannery) I felt quite unabashedly, beautiful.

Was it the vintage lace? Was it the hand-sewn stitching or the delicate pearls that had me all kinds of smitten? I don't know. But I liked it. All of it.

I will get married some day, in a court house if I'm lucky, with my puppy (yes, the one I don't have yet) acting as my ring bearer, and maybe, just maybe, if I'm super spoiled, I'll be wearing a Linyage dress that makes me feel as beautiful as I did on that unlikely Sunday.

Linyage is having an official launch party this Saturday, May 2nd, and come hell or high water, I'll be there. I hope you come join in celebrating these local entrepreneurs, bundle up a bouquet and generally bask in their energy-- who knows maybe you'll even work with them on a dress someday (one can only hope!)

Info is here-- check it out & I hope to see you there!

xoxo