The family reunion I attended was a great history lesson for me and the current experiences I felt as an "adult" were at a level of appreciation I often lacked when "forced" to visit every two years while growing up.
I knew it was gonna be a great trip when my Aunt (we call 'em "Aint") Linda picked me up at the "sprawling" Lafayette Regional Airport and snow-con stand. On the passenger side floor of the car was a Cajun cooler with a bunch of 10 oz Coors Lights intended for me to brave the 20 minute ride to the house.
The perfect Creole way to be welcomed.As if that were not enough, my Mom prepared a late evening "snack" for me: Gumbo, Red Beans and Rice, Deep Fried Catfish and Perch, and of course, Crawfish Ettouffe. Wow.
Needless to say, I ate it all...I had lost nearly 15 pounds before my trip in anticipation of putting on 30lbs, but with the heat and site-seein' I actually left lighter than I arrived. Go figure. Perhaps it was all the "light" beer and 96 degrees + humidity sweating it all out.
The folks have a great home near the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, St. Martin Parish and not far from their hometown of historical and some say cursed St. Martinville down the 2 lane road past Civil War Confederate Camp Pratt and Spanish Lake.
In St. Martinville across the way from the steps of the Court House where Huey P. Long gave a speech and a stone's throw from the burial spot and Live Oak Tree of the "Evangeline" poem by Longfellow is a new restaurant called La Maison which houses the Elephant Bar.As a kid "of color" visiting from California we were told never to pass a certain street which delineated the border between the white and black parts of town. Needless to say it took nearly 40 years for me to come close to the building, let alone go inside and have a Dixie Beer (now brewed post-Katrina in Minneapolis). The shot of Jim Beam next to it helped.
As did an entire tour of the building which housed a bakery in the bottom and upscale white living quarters upstairs with sitting rooms, wrap-around second story veranda with shading storm shutters and a back door servant's entrance.Built in 1899, the new owners, Bob and his wife from Pennsyvalnia, are doing a stellar job restoring it to its original grandeur.
And the personal tour was incredible especially when my Mom informed us that this was the bakery where her wedding day cake was ordered and made by the town baker and where my father would score free donuts on his newspaper delivery route; the only time non-whites were allowed in the place.
The Elephant Bar at La Maison is a fave of mine now, but I could not call the trip complete without a stop in one of the clubs on the Black side of town. Dives with short dogs, shorter beers, smoking and kick ass, stomping music late into the night on occasion. This particular one on South Main Street, the Candlelight Club (home of a former funeral casket warehouse) across the street from my deceased Grandpa Lole's machine shop now run by my Uncles was another historical eye-opener.Mom dated Dad there with orders of "set ups"; a small bottle of hooch, ice, cups and whatever mixer ya wanted - Coke, Dr Pepper, 7-Up, RC Cola, for about $4.
And the tie-in to my family's history was a (well needed) visit to the "mens room." It still contains the original questionable "urinal" my Dad frequented years ago.
Well, the feasting continued including a Crawfish Boil that was simply heaven - Budweisers, Beam and Mudbugs to burst the belly of a 12 foot alligator.
Before:
After:
Much more happened than I care (or have the time) to write about here, but final events included a return to Main Street in New Iberia with a tour of the antebellum plantation homes, visits to James Lee Burke's haunts (New Iberia Sheriff's Lieutenant Dave Robicheaux in his fictional novels) including Bojangles, The Napoleon, and Pelicans for beers, bumps with eyeballing from local "Necks".I visited the library, courthouse, Bayou Teche Park (where I could see across the rolling yellow water of the Bayou near the drawbridge on Bridge Street the saplings planted by my Ma and Aints for my passed brother Dave (Our Dave) and my Grandma Gladys who gave my Mom the gift of cuisine and tolerance and who made the best chicory coffee and warm milk.
And I even managed to get pulled over by the Iberia Parish PD
for a questionable right turn and was let off with a courteous warning, completing my James Lee Burke efforts (2 novels read while on the trip).It was a trip.
And filling emotionally, historically, gastronomically, and liquordelically.
Cheers.
