Top 10 Beignets

The Crumpet Collection goes carnivalesque with a visit to New Orleans for Mardi Gras; it’s no contest as to what delicacy is on par with the crumpet for communicating signature tidbits of local lore—the beignet.

Beignet #1: A hint the wait staff at historic 24/7 Café Du Monde Coffee Stand withhold upon serving one’s powdered sugar with a side of fried dough, known as the ‘beignet’—do not exhale whilst consuming.

Beignet #2: McDonald’s establishments near parade routes should offer a combo #1 meal around Mardi Gras time to include chicken nuggets, fries, and substitute toilet use for the fountain drink. Although, it’s hard to compete with daiquiri vendors offering similar combo deals near the Portas.

Beignet #3: It’s about time someone demystified the bead-earning experience and point out that there is, in fact, a perfectly classy method for beadin’ up. The secrets: game face, visibility, direct eye contact with a thrower, verbal cajoling and flattery helps, but spastically waving and jumpin’ on it generally are just as effective. However, be advised that one could be breakin’ it down to one of the marching bands doin’ the epileptic Mardi Gras innocently unawares to the passing double decker float, and such inattention may result in beads projectiled at high velocities, potentially causing cerebral damage. Another caution, old ladies can and will try to steal the beads off yo back.

Beignet #4: In Louisiana, medians—yes, between roadways—are known as “neutra-grounds.” Not to be confused with “no man’s lands,” “underground Neutria-rats,” nor “Neutri-grain rats.” A nutria-rat is, from what I ascertain, a wetland woodchuck, beaver, squirrel, amphibious mammal, groundhog substitute, though the nutria rat has no affiliation with the best parade vantage point—the neutra-ground. Despite my best efforts, no doubt I will still stand to be corrected.

Beignet #5: Levy. Is NOT a concrete interstate median blockade. Quite green, actually. Surprisingly natural and organic, if you will. Kind of like (or, unlike) advertisements for “organic window tinting.”

Beignet #6: When ordering a “muffaleta,” despite what one imagines to be a grand muffin stuffed with bruschetta, the resulting “sandwich” stuffed with pastrami, salami, and ham deftly puts imagination to shame.

Beignet #7: It may be Mardi Gras on the streetz, but the St. Louis Cathedral of New Orleans, boasting ‘oldest cathedral in the nation status’ dating back to 1793, is zero tolerance for beverages during Mass. Exposing that water bottle will get you an emphatic reverberating “NOoOOooOOOoooOOOoooO,” and you WILL be escorted out.

Beignet #8: The Two Cardinal Rules of Mardi Gras: 1) Use plastic cups. 2) Don’t talk back to the law enforcement. Though I’m not sure the latter applies so seamlessly for the hulking Ringwraith-like equine steeds the law enforcement rides upon.

Beignet #9: New Orleans. Pronounced New Orl-ens. Not leeeeans. And, heavens no, not the ghastly N’awlins.

Beignet #10: For the undiscerning and musically illiterate (I am brave enough to own this), ska music—a mixture of calypso, jazz, and R&B—goes shamefully unappreciated as dance music. Or at least, it goes unappreciated as dance music in the way it is intended to be appreciated. Reader, in your travels, if you should stumble upon a circumspect “dance” loosely known as “The Cassie” characterized by a bizarre amalgamation of window polishing, sandwich-making, tray-handling, nebulizing, and T-rexing, know that comes fresh from NOLA right out of a new dance genre known as ska-dapted.

Crump-It-Up List : “Tipitina,” “Mardi Gras”—Professor Longhair, “Annie (Don’t Wear No Panties)”—Erykah Badu, “No Hands”—Waka Flocka, “F---- You”—Cee Lo Green, “Right Above It”—Lil Wayne & Drake, to name only a few.

Most Wanted List: Rubber Ducky beads. But no sweat. The game’s afoot next time.

AckNOLAdgements:
The Crumpet Collection Krewe de Knox Edition brought to you by:
Mr. and Mrs. Smith who fueled the transport, T-Matt—master of the Taurus—who maneuvered a ballin’ 10-hour roadtrip there and back again, the monsooning rain which resulted in a historic double-feature-parade and historic Mardi Gras experience, Mr. Gassan whose gumbo culinary skillz belie comparison, Ms. V. Gassan and her spacious room, Ms. Bertha Gassan and her wheelin’ rollouts, a certain Aunt Sally who made parking expertly feasible, Mr. Gaston—driver, beat-dropper, navigator, tour guide, and cosmopolitan-maker extraordinaire, the enchanted Bird Mask and the vendor who sold it at a reasonable price, the owner of Jazz Daiquiri and Lounge who may have opened three hours ahead of schedule to accommodate our morning daiquiri run, Cassie—inspiration for many a dance routine, Ms. Chole—fearless naviGator of the 11-person hand grenade pilgrimage through swamped Bourbon Street, the masked floatsman and his bestowal of prized Fleur-de-Lis beads, and finally, Mr. and Mrs. Simmons for refreshing Co-Colas circa Kewanee, Mississippi. Thank you all for contributions to supporting cultural edification.



Peace out, Brussels sprouts.

Currently pre-heating the oven for Crumpets from the Nash. Stay steepin.'