Where Y'Eat

The cafe tables were empty at Loretta’s Authentic Pralines down in Faubourg Marigny and the display cases up front were barren. But in back, Loretta Harrison and her crew had the kitchen humming. Another batch of pralines bubbled in a copper kettle. The homey aroma of sweet potato pies in the oven filled the air. Harrison wore a pink facemask and a dusting of flour on her apron as she rolled more dough for the next round of pecan pies.

In Louisiana, we know our food has a narrative power in addition to its nourishing one, because it flows through families and is tied to place. It’s never more potent than when everything else has been kicked away. Many of us learned this on the long road back from Hurricane Katrina.

Today, our food can be the story that connects hard times with better times, and times ahead. We are all writing a new chapter in that story right now.

No one does Thanksgiving like Louisiana. It starts with the familiar framework - turkey, pie, bourbon, family politics. But to that we add so much from our own culture, our unabating obsession with the table. Because this is 2020 though, even this feast will be different. A holiday of togetherness and gratitude can’t escape feelings of separation and loss from the pandemic.

I learned long ago to bring an ice chest whenever I’m driving around Louisiana because of course so many routes are dotted with great butcher shops. It’s fun to stock up with smoked meats and special treats for home. Lately, I’ve been learning a lot more along the Andouille Trail - a circuit of markets, shops and restaurants around the River Parishes.