New Orleans Vietnamese Market

 


Every Saturday out in New Orleans East a community of people get together to share some their produce, stories, and chickens.  It was an opportunity to be introduced to the market by my uncle, who has an equal interest in the esoteric food scene.  The only drawback of the market, and it is not even that big of a drawback, is the time.  The market opens at 6am, and finishes up around 9am.  Actually it isn't such a bad idea, after 9am the summer in New Orleans seems to punch you in the face with heat and humidity.  The Vietnamese culture has been in the Eastern part of New Orleans for a little over thirty years or so.  The Mississippi River delta of Southern Louisiana has similarities to the Mekong River delta over in the far east.  Southern Louisiana also has an abundance of shrimp and rice, and with similar natural resources it was a home away from home.  Only thing is, not too many Cajuns Speak Vietnamese.

                                                                  Back to the market.

We were on the hunt for a particular vendor, the chicken lady.  It seems to be our luck, the first Saturday we attended she had taken the day off.  Language was not a real problem, as a smile is easily translated around the world.  So armed with a smile and good attitude, it was a learning experience.  There were So many different types of food, from so many countries, it was almost too much to handle at times.  But it was handled, and I hope y'all enjoy some of the pictures.  The ever elusive chicken lady will render me some poultry in the future, and I look forward to relaying her story!

Also on the menu...

YoBreaux Receipts (Recipes)


The YoBreaux

Lake Pontchartrain Fishing

Life is not always black and white, but regardless of what color it is, it should head towards the direction of progress.  Progression was made this weekend. New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival is a man-made event providing the international public servings of great music and food.  The event lasts for two weekends, same time every year, last weekend of April, then first weekend of May.  Tickets this year were sixty dollars at the door, it seemed to be like everything else nowadays, a cultural event sponsored by big companies to help favor their products.  The stage was set with acts of all genre and likability, accompanied by expensive beer ($5 Miller Lite Can = $120 per Case).

So I went fishing.

It was a good time on the water, listening to Jazzfest via the radio, catching fish, and catching up with old friends.  At the end of the day, our haul was three nice catfish and one  Black Drum.  My fishing muscles had not been flexed in a few months, and was outfished, but not out cooked.  The drum met the grill later in the evening with some bay leaves and garlic.  It was paired with the Pinot Griggio of beers, Coors Light to make a nice combination of healthful fare.  Catching your own food is an etheral feeling, not depending on a grocery store for food, but rather Mother Earth.  We as a people were once hunter-gathers, now we are grocery-shoppers.  Next time you get the chance, turn off the TV, put down the laptop, and go get a hook wet.