It's official! Johnny Gumbo, in response to a perceived disrespect given him (and his shrimp po boy order) at Mother's Restaurant on Saturday evening, announced today, through his press secretary, that he is leading a boycott of the famous New Orleans landmark. He hopes to use his considerable influence as one of the country's leading event planners to teach Mother's that there are some people you just don't want to mess with. Johnny Gumbo is them people. "Saturday dinner (at Mother's), some low-rent sandwich place with very poor service, the meal was disgusting, would never eat there again, others need to know how bad it is."
When asked to comment on the boycott, a Mother's representative replied, "Who the fuck is Johnny Gumbo?" Stay tuned folks, this could get ugly.
We're outta here...
Tuesday is getaway day. Shove all your dirty shit into your bags and stow them in the lobby after checkout. We don't fly out until almost five, so we walk up Decatur to Central Grocery. I walk a couple doors down to find a little something for The Reet at Java House Imports. While I listen intently to the owner's description of jewelry he created for his wife, Barry gruffly interrupts, saying he has to get somewhere and wants to pay for his item. It makes my purchase of The Reet's opal earrings much quicker. We grab a cab over to MiLa, where we meet stay-in-bed-forever Mark for lunch. According to their website, MiLa is the culmination of both the marriage of chefs Slade Rushing and Allison Vines-Rushing and their respective home states cuisines-Mississippi and Louisiana. With a seasonal menu driven by fresh picked produce from Lujele Farms, MiLa delivers a new style of Southern fare with a lighter touch using French techniques in an elegant yet relaxed setting in downtown New Orleans. The restaurant is surprisingly large, with a very cool lighted bar at the entrance. Service is slow and a bit disjointed, but my entree of local grouper followed by homemade banana ice cream was very good.
Not much time left. Gumbo and Barry/Larry retreat to the hotel, while I accompany Mark back to Java House Imports. It's time. Everyone piles into a cab (no Garland, he left Sunday night for Houston) for the airport. And what is the airport food of choice? LUCKY DOG! On the flight back to Detroit, while the Pool Hall Studs relaxed, I had to nurse a shaking, teary eyed young lady (she ran out of her medication) through our somewhat bumpy flight to Detroit.
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