Waking up at HiVolt

Some days, like today, I must rise at an hour where one would normally find me snoozing away merrily in bed. On these unfortunate days, I need a healthy overdose of caffeine. Not too long ago, my good friend Anne and I visited a great place for a coffee infusion, especially early in the morning.

Opened a few months ago by Benji Lee (who also owns The Saint just down the road), HiVolt Coffee is a cool new cafe situated on a funky corner at St. Mary and Sophie Wright Place. The cafe is housed in a building that once was a seafood restaurant and the cool porthole windows still remain. HiVolt has a modern, sleek and clean design on the inside, making it highly inviting and not too focused on catering to one group of coffee snobs or another.

Anne was following a paleo diet at the time and the folks at HiVolt were happy to accommodate. They used almond milk in her Chai while I ordered a delicious cappuccino (with whole milk) brewed from Counter Culture Coffee. We sat down, sipped our beverages and waited patiently for our orders to arrive.

Anne got a Chimi Beef Salad, mixed greens and tomatoes topped with slow-roasted chuck, a perfectly poached egg and lots of chimichurri sauce. I chose their simple house salad with mixed greens, avocado, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers and a tasty quinoa spinach cake served on the side. Everything was so fresh and scrumptious, we gobbled the salads gleefully and moved on to a couple of sweets.

Anne chose an interesting seed bar bound by raw honey and I tried a gluten-free, Mexican Chocolate donut, simply because I didn't believe it was possible. Although the donut was rather dry, the spicy chocolate flavor was all there and I had no trouble washing it down with my coffee. Anne's seed bar turned out to be fabulous, crunchy and sweet, yet far more filling than either of us imagined.

Oranges and oranges...

Growing up in a Persian household, it was a given that there would always be a large bowl of fruit on the kitchen table. Since that Persian house was located in California, the bowl would be filled with oranges more often than not. If you've never seen it, I have difficulty describing the Persian love affair with fruit. They will eat fruit (especially oranges) at all time of the day or night, before dinner, after dinner, after dessert, with tea, after breakfast...always.

Needless to say, I grew up appreciating all different kinds of fruit, and all kinds of California oranges. When I moved to New Orleans, I thought I would finally be exposed to Florida oranges, and I have tasted a few, but it seems that through shipping or grocery storage or level of ripeness when picked, the oranges (other than those delightful satsumas) have been rather tasteless. I can't tell you how many times I have picked up a bag of oranges, even California oranges, at the grocery store and brought them home only to have bland (even dry!) oranges, piece after piece.

Recently, I was approached by a representative of Heritage Reserve Navel Oranges. They had just began distributing to Rouses Supermarkets in Louisiana and they wanted a blogger to review their product, so they sent me a box. Heritage Reserve has been planting orchards in California's Central Valley since 1896 and their oranges are naturally ripened and colored, using no accelerated de-greening process.

We received the box of oranges about a week ago which contained four bags of oranges, about 5 per bag. Other than one bag I gifted to a friend, John and I have been eating these oranges non-stop since they arrived and they are, admittedly, delicious. Every single one I have tasted has been juicy, fragrant, tart and sweet all at the same time. I have never gone through an entire bag of oranges and had them ALL taste good in a very long time. Kudos to you, Heritage Reserve, for producing a consistently wonderful orange.

House of the week: Cottage on Milan Street

One of the first things you come to realize when house hunting is that everyone's got their own sense of style. Interior design, I believe, either wholly reflects the person or people living in that space, or it reflects absolutely nothing at all ... like a furniture showroom at Pier 1 Imports. Perhaps it's because I worked with an interior designer or perhaps it's because I've been decorating my (yet to be acquired) house since I was 6 years old, but I'm endlessly fascinated by how people choose to decorate their world. 

Anyhow, while I was roaming through the listings, I happened upon this house near Claiborne and Napoleon. The neighborhood is nice and the beach cottage-style house sports a sweet little front and back porch, hardwood floors, French doors, granite counter tops and a neat back yard. The price is decent, listed at $145,000, and though it isn't as old as I would like (built in the 70's), it still has a lot of character. But, even though I am quite good at looking at the bare bones of a house, appreciating the architecture and imaging the space with my own style, it was pretty hard to get past this living room set. 

Is it just me or does it seem like Fifi Mahony's blew up in there? 

2014 Jazz Fest poster by Terrance Osborne

It might not seem like it, but I'm a serious art fan. Aside from the books on my shelves, the only inanimate objects I care about are my collection. Though I love my family and friends oh-so-very-much, I would be hard-pressed if in an emergency, I had to choose between my photo albums and my art...because I am pretty sure my art would win.

Does that come off as heartless?

Every single piece captures periods (and people) in my life that I never want to forget. For example, I have a giant map of Middle Earth that my first love created for me, an intricate and absolutely amazing amalgam of maps researched from different editions of Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. Not only does the map embody my favorite literary adventure, it also brings back detailed memories of a most loving, painful, illuminating and exploratory 5-year stretch of my life.

A three-piece collection of bright, Murano glass straight from Italy were gifts from one of my dearest friends back in the Bay Area, and though we aren't close anymore, whenever I look at the shimmering golden fish or orange dolphin, the years I spent with him come flooding back. A thrift-store find of a knight poised before a castle in the mists done in watercolor symbolizes my freedom and sense of adventure, as it hung in my first (worthwhile) apartment after college and a small print of Van Gogh's "L'église d'Auvers-sur-Oise" is a constant reminder of a truly unforgettable 7-day vacation in Paris.  

What this all boils down to is a rational, fully verifiable excuse (to myself), so that I might purchase this year's Jazz Fest poster. In all likelihood, I will not be attending the massive festival because a) I am too poor to afford the tickets and b) I just can't party like I used to. BUT! That does not change the fact that I would LOVE to own Aural History: Preservation Hall & The Preservation Hall Jazz Band by one of my favorite New Orleans artists, Terrance Osborne. I mean, don't you want it? Osborne is so incredibly awesome to me because he sees New Orleans awfully close to the way I see it in my mind's eye...colorful, alive, vibrant, joyous, soulful. His paintings automatically paste a huge stupid grin across my face, regardless of my mindset at the moment of viewing. Ultimately, I aspire to own an original painting by Mr. Osborne, but until then a print will definitely do.