Sweet, sweet home.

People always ask me what it was like to grow up in New Orleans, and I usually remember MY childhood. The places we frequented, the faces, the normalcies of everyday life are what come to mind – not much different from anyone else’s upbringing. I don’t think about Mardi Gras or Bourbon Street. But I also don’t think that having red beans and rice for dinner on Monday is out of the ordinary or that grabbing a “go cup” on the way out of a bar at night is not a universal experience. This was how I grew up, and the sights, sounds and tastes are what I EXPECT whenever I am home. What I forget is how spectacularly rich New Orleans is. And though I am never surprised or shocked by what I see, I do forget. How delicious it tastes, how soulful it sounds and how stunningly beautiful it is time and again.