October 3, 2013

New Orleans. March, 1991

I always wind up at the market, no matter where I travel. Never a problem. Here in New Orleans’ French Market, tourists and locals mingle, some shopping, some (like me) just looking. Aside from the enjoyable visuals, my visits also inform me about what to look for on local menus. And, fortunately, there are plenty of cafes nearby to revive after an exhausting morning of looking. Coffee with chicory, sweet.

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