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I’m sitting here eating lunch and surfing the web. I’m guilty of several culinary counts, not only am I eating quite quickly, not even savoring each bite, I’m reading at the same time and I’ve prepared something from a box (gasp), and also eating with a plastic spoon. I know, how did this happen, so not me. As I’m eating this Zatarain’s Jambalaya mix, to which I actually added some sausage. I’m thinking about the Napoleon House. I have been meaning to write a review about this Culinary Institution for quite some time, but as they say- Life happens when your making other plans.
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Much has happen since my amazing visit to New Orleans back in September of 2007. Prior to that visit, I thought I was really done with Houston, and planned on packing it all up and moving to the Crescent city in search of new wonderful adventures, a clean slate awaited. It seemed everyone in the world didn’t want me to move there though. Mumbles of the crime, the instability, the crime, the high rent, the crime, the major transition the city is still in. Everyone I told I was moving, always said the same thing –Why? But the city kept calling me, luring me closer, so I went, and fell partially in love, I still can’t forget the city. I know I will one day own property there but now I really have to stay put and try to make it happen here. There was also this painting that I purchased which convinced me to stay but that’s another story.
Napoleon House is a classic New Orleans institution. A must visit. My aunt considers the old throwback Pat O’ Brain’s and their ‘acquired taste’ Hurricane a must drink, when in New Orleans, but I think the Pimm’s Cup at The Napoleon House reviles it.Napoleon House is a place you could sit in all day. Not a on the laptop in a coffee shop sit all day, but a long leisurely and comfortable lunch that turns into dinner.That is exactly the kind of place for me and exactly the place I was searching for. We spent the morning walking around the Quarter, having first making an obligatory stop at iconic Cafe du Monde for a late breakfast, and then getting lost among the cobble stone streets, colorful creole homes and giant mansions, the history engulfed
and devoured us.
I hung onto a paper tourist map, thinking I knew exactly where we were. Admittedly lost we stopped at a tiny grocery to get directions. Somewhere between a distraction at the Cotton Exchange clothing store and a few antique spots along the way, we finally stumbled to door of Napoleon House, feeling as if we had already passed it a few times.
It was musky and dimly lit. We were shown a table in the back room by a bow -tied waiter. Interestingly the waiters appeared to be ‘career waiter’ types, staunchly professional a refreshing change to the servers I’ve become accustomed to in Houston and Austin, rude twenty-something college kids or snooty thirty- something aspiring musicians, respectively. They aren’t in a hurry to rush you out the door, nor do they appear every few minutes at the table inquiring about anything or nothing at all. Our waiter simply gave us space and materialized when we needed another round of Pimm’s.
Framed photos from an unforgotten past lined the walls. Tables and chairs could have come from a sidewalk cafe in Paris. The tiny room was half way full, a low murmur of lunch conversation some business and some casual, from what appeared to be regulars. To begin we ordered the Pimm’s cup all around. For lunch I choose the smothered Roast beef sandwich with the works(lettuce, pickles, tomato), with a side of red beans and rice. Mom and my aunt shared the muffuletta and some jambalaya.
Pimm’s cup originated in England, and is largely made up of Pimm’s No.1. a type of gin, and 2 parts lemonade or soda. It’s served with a cucumber and according to the Napoleon House website , it’s never as good as when you have it there. I believe this to be true. The drink is light and refreshing and one can see how it would be a summertime or anytime drink. Mom and my aunt loved it. I think we had 3 that day. The Roast beef was beyond incredible, the warm crusty bread, tender meat and the gravy oozing out of the sides, my kind of messy sandwich. The red beans and rice were the most perfect specimens of what can become of simple grains and legumes, each bite a delicious medley, creating a harmonious dance in my mouth. Absolutely everything on that table was well seasoned, seasoned perfectly in fact, salt and pepper unnecessary garnishes in this meal. My descriptions though borderline cheesy and sounding made up, in retrospect still do the food no justice. It is hard to describe in words that memorable and fateful meal which spanned hours, as we sat there in the comfortable dark room. Rain begin to fall outside, patrons visited with one another at table to table, regulars sat at the bar chatting with the bar keep, and waiters simply smiled so relaxed, swooping empty plates off tables without one’s notice.
We didn’t want to leave, and in-fact returned our last night there, by request of my Mom who wanted more Pimm’s cup. My aunt decided to spend her last night in New Orleans at Harrah’s a very fascinating establishment which should be visited just once, not to play but simply to view the spectacle which is the casino.
We journeyed into the quarter at dusk in search of real live jazz we hoped to find bustling out of some random building. As we passed 3 musicians playing outside the infamous K-Paul’s, we asked them where to go to hear some jazz. One informed us bitterly that Jazz had died along time ago. Another positively chimed in that we should go to the Marigny to hear real jazz. I thanked them with a generous tip of 10$ and we headed to Napoleon House.
This time we sat in the back courtyard, with tiny flickering lights and giant tropical palms around us. We ordered several rounds of Pimm’s cup, shared a tasty grilled chicken sandwich and started with an incredible Shrimp Remoulade stuffed in half of an avocado. Then we sat back into our chairs, enjoyed the night sky and cool breeze, I was wishing I could stay there forever.
The Napoleon House was once home to the mayor of New Orleans who later offered it to the Emperor as place of refuge while in exile. Napoleon never arrived but the name remained. It is an absolute must place to visit and frequent while in New Orleans, and I look forward to returning.
:::::Alexa Hernandez