#1,383 French Quarter.
Ben surprised me by booking a room in New Orleans for tonight for a late birthday gift to himself and we’ve maybe had the best time ever besides the trip with Jim and Mal on the train in February.
We dropped our bags off at our hotel, the Dauphine Orleans, and our room has a balcony over the pool and courtyard, which is really spiffy.
We set out for dinner at Adolfo’s, a cool TINY creole Italian restaurant in the Marigny neighborhood where Ben had some enormous porkchops and I had a crab and corn cannelloni. Super spicy, but delicious.
And then we took a long walk through the French Quarter, where we saw many curious people and things.
We went to the late show and saw James Gandolfini’s last movie. Because of The Sopranos, he has become our very favorite actor, but in this sweet and lovely movie, I can barely remember him as Tony Soprano. There’s nothing mean or aggressive about him. In fact, in this role he reminds me for the world of a 50 year old Ben—a lovable gentle giant, the best kind of flirt, and unafraid to shed a tear. Why are there not more love stories with a big, lumbering, manly leading man? They’re the best at hugs and making you feel skinny. Fact.
It was made better only by hot, fluffy, powdered sugary goodness from Cafe Du Monde at midnight.
Sweet dreams from the Crescent City!