I can't believe it's finally over...

In case you haven't noticed, I haven't had the opportunity to post as frequently this month for one, overwhelming reason...I had jury duty. Now, for my readers who do not live in Orleans Parish, criminal court jury duty demands that you appear two days out of the week, either Monday and Wednesday or Tuesday and Thursday, every week for an entire month. That's right, you read me correctly. For the entire month of June, I had to appear at the courthouse on Tulane and Broad at 9 AM (8:30 AM if you want a good parking spot in the Jurors Lot on White Street) every Tuesday and Thursday.

After checking through security, you head into the basement where you sit in a highly air conditioned room with approximately 200 - 300 other people waiting patiently to be picked to serve. A digital display will show a number between 1 and 12 every morning...usually 12. It means that there are 12 courts who may need to select a jury and you, the patient citizen, will wait, sipping coffee until that number reads 0 (zero).

Now you may be thinking, "Well, that doesn't sound so terrible. Once you get selected and serve on a jury, your duty is over...right?" Wrong! After serving, you must return to the "Jury Pool Lounge" and wait till they either call you to sit again on a different case or finally let you go home...for the day. Oh yes, you must return and finish out the rest of the month.

Yes, jury duty in Orleans Parish can be tedious, dull and tiresome. But, I have to admit, I had some interesting events occur as well. First of all, there is an older gentleman who comes in every morning serving treats like mini-pecan pies, fresh pralines and other goodies for a couple of bucks each. Interestingly enough, I discovered in a short conversation with him, that he used to mix drinks at Commander's Palace back in the 60's during his youth...even though at that time, it still wasn't an accepted practice to allow African Americans to make cocktails.

Second, I got to spend a lot of time chatting with Tim McNally, a friend whom I'd worked with before at my previous employment. Tim is a wine enthusiast who (among other things) writes a column for New Orleans Magazine called "Last Call." The hours literally sped by while Tim and I talked about everything from the cost of broken air conditioning systems to the latest episode of Treme. Naturally, we also talked a lot about food...

Since I'd never served before, I was also extremely interested in the whole jury selection process which turned out to be quite an eye-opener. Though I probably should have expected it, I never realized how personal a process it actually was and at times, I felt I was airing my dirty laundry (so to speak) to the entire courtroom. But I see now that it was necessary. After all, there is no way I'd be fit to serve on a case that was, for example, concerning assault with a deadly weapon, if I had been recently the victim of just such a crime.

Regardless of the benefits, educational and otherwise, I am relieved that my duty is finally over. At the end of our service today, we all received the pictured "Certificate of Appreciation" which says:

"On behalf of the citizens of Orleans Parish in recognition of your very substantial, and important contribution to the administration of justice by serving as a juror during the term of June 2011."

I'm holding on to this little beauty, not only for posterity, but just in case I get called again before my two-year interval is up!

Two for lunch at One Restaurant & Lounge

John and I were walking to Walgreens one day when we passed a house with an overgrown, rampant garden, a literal riot of color, that was so engaging we had to stop and gawk a while. Now, I'd walked past this particular house hundreds of times, but never really noticed the garden until it was pointed out to me. The same thing occurred just last week with One Restaurant & Lounge.

I've eaten sushi at Hana, enjoyed breakfast at Refuel and slurped frozen yogurt from Pure Yogurt Culture on dozens of occasions, but I never really noticed One. Maybe because it's in an unassuming, shotgun house or maybe (most likely) it's because their sign reminds me of a real estate board...the last thing I'm looking for when hungry. Anyhow, the restaurant was mentioned to me in conversation and when I looked it up, I had to smack myself in the head! It was right there, only a few blocks away from home, on Hampson Street all along. So, for my 91st cheat (I am still only down 81 pounds), my friend Lorin and I enjoyed lunch at One Restaurant & Lounge.

I walked over in the overwhelming heat and by the time I arrived I could only think of one thing, a nice cold drink. The dining room was cool and a bit dark from the tinted front windows when I stepped inside, a blessing since I was dripping sweat and red in the face. I chose a table where I could watch the front door (seeing as I was early) and realized I was also near some bar seats where patrons can watch the chefs in action. I ordered a tasty, brisk Huckleberry Mojito and browsed the menu while waiting for Lorin to arrive.

She showed up on time and after a flurry of warm greetings, we sat down and decided what to order. I love dining with Lorin, not only because she knows everything there is to know about food, but because she loves to share and a simple meal turns into something quite more familial, more social and a whole lot of fun.

We started with a delightfully munchable Duck Liver & Mushroom Pâté served with pickled fennel and toasted pine nuts. We also each ordered a cup of soup; Lorin chose the "soup of the day" which turned out to be a tomato gazpacho with fresh, boiled shrimp and I got the sweet potato bisque with crawfish and caramelized pineapple. I enjoyed both soups, but I think I liked mine more, getting a kick out of the tart pineapple flavor against the savory sweet potato.

We were both feeling a bit full by the time our entrees arrived. Lorin had BBQ Louisiana shrimp & grits and I chose the open faced brisket sandwich. The grits were nice and creamy and the shrimp was delicious, but the sauce tasted sweeter than I expected, though not to the detriment of the dish. My brisket was rich and fatty resting on thick slices of focaccia bread and topped with a huge pile of shoestring potatoes. It was easy to save more than half of my dish for John who gobbled it up as soon as I got home.

We had ordered ahead for a blueberry cobbler for dessert (which takes 15-20 minutes to prepare), but sadly, we were told later that it wasn't available. Of course, I had no difficulty selecting a flourless chocolate cake as a substitute and Lorin agreed wholeheartedly. The cake came out looking a lot like a souffle, almost tumbling over on itself like an unsteady, too-tall top hat. The cake was so warm, moist and delicious that there was no difficulty inhaling it in a flash. Plus, served alongside this wondrous cake was a large dollop of fresh whipped cream that was so thick and creamy, it was almost like a dessert in itself.

After such a pleasurable lunch, I doubt I will ever overlook One again. Maybe I could convince them to change their signage though, so others don't make the same mistake I did.

House of the week: Craftsman double on Willow Street

So I was browsing around and I found yet another great house for sale in my 'hood. Only a couple of blocks away on Willow Street, there is a gorgeous double shotgun (Yep! I'd rent out the other side) originally built in 1911. It's got everything I love so dearly, the dark hardwood floors and high ceilings plus well-remodeled kitchens and lovely bathrooms. Since it's a Craftsman-style house, it has unique architectural detailing like built-in columned book shelves breaking up the parlor from the main family room and thick, chunky columns in front of the porch. There is some odd, half-constructed building in the backyard (another potential rental opportunity perhaps?), but the main house looks solid and well-maintained. The house is going for $239,990 which, again, is a bit of a reach for me, but with rental money coming in, I think I could swing it.

Now...who's going to gift me with the $12,000 down payment? Anyone?

Taking it easy at Tracey's

Overcome with laziness due to a deluge of work and a twice-a-week jury duty grind, I wanted nothing more than to enjoy my cheat in a place where I could let my hair down (so to speak) and be comfortable in flip-flops and shorts. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to hit up Tracey's for some no-nonsense bar food. I hadn't been into Tracey's since their notorious move about a year ago and I was curious to see the new space for myself. This was my 90th cheat and I am down 81 pounds.

It was late in the lunch hour when John and I stepped into the cool interior of Tracey's from the sizzling hot pavement on the corner of Magazine and Third. We knew exactly what we wanted, swiftly placed our orders at the counter and went to find a table. The bar was fairly empty at the time and I saw a few employees enjoying their own lunches in booths nearby.

Our order came out fairly quickly. I chose an 8-inch fried shrimp po-boy on Leidenheimer bread (of course) fully dressed with an order of French fries. I know, I know... everyone usually goes to Tracey's for the roast beef, but what can I say? I wanted shrimp. They were deliciously fried golden brown, large, juicy shrimp and I enjoyed every bite. I might be getting a bit spoiled though, because the fries were obviously frozen and what with hand-cut French fries becoming a dime a dozen these days, it was hard to go back to the old standby.

Being really hungry, I also ordered a Graffagnini (a.k.a. WOP Salad), because I had a yen for the tang of olive salad, muffaletta-style and because the non-PC name of the dish made me laugh. The salad was tasty, but unfortunately it seemed to be missing one of the key ingredients to a WOP Salad - the sardines! I was sort of disappointed, but at least the vegetables were fresh and the olive salad sated my craving.

John seems to be on a B.L.T. kick this month, not that I'm knockin' it! At Tracey's, his B.L.T. was served on thickly sliced and toasted white bread with several pieces of bacon, crisp lettuce and bright tomatoes. Simply, straightforward and good, he gobbled it down before I was even halfway through my po-boy.

As we left the bar and were headed home, I jumped up, smacked myself in the head and exclaimed "We need dessert!" Luckily, there is a new ice cream shop on Oak Street I'd been wanting to try, so we just stopped by on the way home. Only open a couple of weeks, The Adventure is in what was formerly known as the only snowball stand on Oak, Queen of the Ball. Apparently, Brad Wilkins (owner of the Oak Street Cafe just down the street) jumped at the opportunity to open an ice cream shop with his daughter, who can be found behind the counter everyday hustling scoops.

I got a scoop of Chocolate and another scoop of Banana's Foster while John settled for one scoop of Blueberry Cheesecake. The Adventure uses Kleinpeter Dairy ice cream which they tout as "hormone-free," plus the shop emphasizes that their cups are made from corn, rendering them "compostable." While I totally dig the environmentalist, healthful attitude towards ice cream and the scoops were creamy, delicious and reasonably priced, I left the shop a little dismayed. After all, where was the adventure?