I went with the patty melt. It was a good choice.

This weekend, we made one of my personal favorites: chess pie. For the uninitiated, chess pie is quintessentially Southern, a sort of proto-pecan pie. Our friend Elizabeth did a nice writeup on chess pie over at the Green Olive blog earlier this year.

But the real winner of our pie experimentation so far is the first one Eliza made: Tar Heel Pie. This isn’t something I had ever heard of, but with a name like Tar Heel Pie, how could you go wrong? It’s like a pecan pie, but chocolate and with the pecans chopped and mixed in.

New Yorkers didn’t quite know what to make of it. Was it a bar with good food? A restaurant that was fun? In any case, it was an immediate hit, a seat at one of its cramped tables so coveted that Frank Bruni, in a mostly admiring review in the Times, deemed the place a “gastromelee.” Message boards abounded with proudly masochistic anecdotes about what one blogger called the “hipster bloodsport” of trying to get in.

A few months back, Anthony Bourdain remarked that there’s no place on earth like you, New Orleans. Grillades and grits is a great example. I had never heard of it and I’ve never had anything like it. Highlight of the trip.

Chicken and waffles for Eliza.

Let’s go for a walk, New Orleans. You can sing us a song. “Do you know what it meeeeeeeans…”

Let’s try something completely different. What’s that? Another John Besh restaurant? Do they have grillades and grits?

A pork sandwich will have to do.

After a dinner (with no photos) at Herbsaint, we’ve got one final meal with you, New Orleans. Our last breakfast at Luke was lovely. Let’s do that again.

Eliza will have the pate. I’ll help her out. Doesn’t she look dainty?

Excuse me, New Orleans. Will you pass me my wide angle lens? Otherwise, I’m not going to be able to fit this soft shell crab sandwich in this camera’s meager frame. And yes, that is a fried egg on top.

Eliza’s mom had a fried oyster salad featuring the bacon of one Mr. Allan Benton.

That was fun, New Orleans. Let’s do it again soon.

Thank you, New Orleans. I am delighted as well. Where shall we go first?

Yes, Cochon sounds delightful. Judging by how the name translates and their choice of artwork, New Orleans, I think this will do nicely.

Why yes, I think we would like to try your house made Slim Jim. I find myself wondering why I don’t utter the phrase “house made Slim Jim” more often.

Or “fried rabbit liver” for that matter.

But really New Orleans, I must stop you. You see, people sometimes assume that we here at Chicken Fried Everything only partake of fried food. And you see, we’re much more complicated–I’m sorry, what’s that you say? Fried alligator? Well, if you insist.

OK, New Orleans. After all that I’m going to need a few hours to recover. But dinner is in three hours? Well, I do hear that MiLa has something called Deconstructed Oysters Rockefeller and I am curious…

It’s been a long day New Orleans. Let’s get some rest, as we have a full day tomorrow.

We didn’t make it to the Sarovar lounge. I try to avoid lounges in general. I’m a man of action, so I have no respect for the lounging class.

Sarovar is notable for having strangest collection of business names in adjacent properties. I’d like to know what’s going on at “The Boss Ladies.”

In case you were having any last minute doubts as you reach for the door handle, rest assured.

Another romantic evening together. Don’t worry, she’s not doing work. She’s reading my latest love poem.

Also had a few Kumamoto oysters.

But why should the “out of box experience” be limited to technology? What about the experience of unpacking a few pounds of smoked meat? In this post, I’ll answer that question with a few photos. I finally got around to ordering some of Allan Benton’s famous country ham and bacon. I decided to document the “experience.”

Of course, the real experience is putting a few slices in the skillet and making breakfast. This morning was my lucky day. (I usually cut my bacon in half because my skillet is only ten inches wide.)

I overcooked the bacon a little bit, so it was a tad brittle. But luckily I’ve got four pounds of this stuff. Practice makes perfect.