Of Gumption and Gumbo

It's undeniable: There's just something special about New Orleans. Even before the will of its people was tested by "The Storm," as locals call it, even before being completely abandoned by its government, and nearly forgotten after the other storm (the one of the media variety) died down, it was something else. And after all that? To say that the hardships endured by this city and its loyal residents brought out a kind of character and might and determination that us outsiders didn't think existed would be an understatement.

I visited New Orleans recently, for the first time, and was fortunate enough to see the kind of resolve and optimism I'd heard so much about from just about everyone who's been there post-Katrina. Just as the city was starting to see the light at the end of the hurricane's barrel, the recession hit - because, you know, sometimes life just kicks you when you're down. This summer, according to many chefs and waiters I spoke to, was one of the worst. Dining rooms were empty, and even Bourbon Street remained relatively quiet.

But when I was there a couple of weeks ago, the city was bustling, and business was starting to pick up. As I walked through the French Quarter with my friend Kendall, a food writer born and raised in New Orleans, I could feel a buzz in the air. The sun was shining, street musicians tooted their horns and clapped their hands in celebration and the restaurants were spilling over with customers. In Jackson Square, we saw a flurry of brides in several separate weddings going on at the same hour on the same day. When we ran into a shop owner that Kendall knows, he proclaimed that the worst was over. New Orleans had got its groove back, and they’d beaten this recession just as they had beaten back all the other attempts at keeping this city down.

God only knows they’d been trying their damndest to weather the economic tempest of the last year. Restaurants tried out special prix fixe dinners and weeknight discounts, and hotels rolled out unbelievable deals to tourists. But what I think got New Orleans through this most recent hurdle was something that seems to be pretty easy to find among the folks around here: Gumption. Everyone I met, from the fast-talking Chef Anthony Spizale of the Rib Room to the legendary Dickie Brennan (of the famed Brennan family of restaurateurs), there was never a question or a doubt that they and their beloved city would rise again, and, with their sleeves rolled up and chests heaved forward, they did whatever it took as they always had.

The excitement and renewed sense of vigor is most apparent in the food. Spizale excitedly talked about all the new specials he’s been trying lately, like his well-received “Fried Chicken Tuesdays.” At Chef John Besh’s brand-new Domenica restaurant, the good ol’ Southern boy is cooking up spectacular Italian dishes with a local flair like Black Pepper Fettuccine with Oysters, Saffron and Cream. And Sal, of the famed P&J Oyster Company, eagerly showed off the first official P&J cookbook that’s coming out in a few weeks.

No one is holding back, no sir. That’s gumption for ya.

For my full story on Southern Louisiana's food culture, check out the Spring 2010 issue of Intermezzo magazine.