The London Review of Breakfasts
"Hope is a good breakfast, but it is a bad supper." (Francis Bacon)
Saturday, December 06, 2014
Old Coffee Pot
714 Rue St. Peter
New Orleans
Louisiana
+1 504 524 3500
by Louie Slinger
Given
the New Orleans habit of carousing, it's no surprise to anyone, I guess, that
there's a tradition of great breakfasts that are served until sometime in the afternoon.
The Old Coffee Pot, right in the middle of the French Quarter, has been feeding
folks, both hungover and otherwise, since 1894. A nice old townhouse with both inside dining and tables on its patio and covered driveway, it draws locals as
well as tourists. It was a local who took me there the first time, in fact.
The menu offered lots of New Orleans specialties. Louisiana is rice country: calas, rice cakes rather like rissoles that were once sold from baskets by street criers, show up, paired with syrup. They're
dense with a crunchy outside, just the thing to absorb any alcohol lingering in one's gut.
New
Orleans likes to play with the eggs Benedict formula. There were four
variations here, including eggs
Sardou, which poses creamed spinach and an artichoke heart under the eggs instead of ham, and eggs
Conti, which begins with a tender split American biscuit, piles on sauteed chicken
livers and spring onions all in a winy sauce laced with a suspicion
of garlic. Rich? Well, just. On this trip I succumbed to the Rockefeller
omelette, which was full of oysters, creamed spinach and cheese, and probably packed enough flavor to raise some of the bodies buried behind St. Louis Cathedral, over a the next block.
Ladies
who've worked there for years kept things humming, as they always do. In early December, late one
quiet morning, five customers held hands and said grace before beginning their
meal. (Not all visitors are sinners; occasionally there are church conventions
in town.) When their meal was finished, they paid their check and the waitress
wished them a merry Christmas, and added, "Remember, Jesus is the reason
for the season." And then she planted her feet, squared her shoulders and
let fly with a spontaneous, stunning gospel rendition of 'Silent
Night'.
Never
forget - this is a city where anything can happen.
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