NOLA Nightsongs #1

After a long week of work that at times felt relentlessly stressful, all I wanted to do was go home and go to bed. I couldn’t though, because Alice in Whiskyland was in town, and although we’ve been chatting via the internet for years now, we’d never met in person. We had a couple of close calls to meet up before, but just couldn’t make it work.

I’m often reminded how short life can be, and how the rat race can cause us to miss out on moments. We discard opportunities so that we can rest, or continue our hustle, always banking on “next time.”

Tired as I was, Fuck “next time.”

I got home, brushed off my work-mode, and went down to my favorite watering hole in the entire city- Barrel Proof. I arrived after the happy-hour crowds had moved on to the next stop, and grabbed a seat at the nearly empty bar. One of the long time bartenders asked “you want your Fighting Cock?” Followed up with “There has to be a less-awkward way of saying that.” The answer to both questions was “yes.” We checked in on each other, it’s been awhile since I’d been here (thanks rat race). We made our pleasantries and bantered for a bit.

This is how it goes sometimes.

Another bartender approached and asked what I was doing for Mardi Gras, he like everyone else that lives here have really only three answers. 1- Oh I’m going to this parade, or that parade and I worked all winter on my outfits etc… or 2- bunkering up with canned soup and avoiding the mayhem… or 3- I’m working.

I’m a 2 guy, and I know he’s a 3 guy so we acknowledged what each of us was in for. I was enjoying one of my last quiet nights out for the next two weeks or so, and he was mentally preparing for the onslaught of fireball shot orders. New Orleans is a feast or famine city. It’s hopping like mad, with no end in sight, until it’s not, and then it’s quiet with little hope on the horizon.

A patron to the left of me was the rare 1 and 3 guy, and he was very animated about all the stuff he was going to do, how little sleep he was going to get, and how much scratch he was going to make the weekend prior to Fat Tuesday working in the quarter. He was pounding Topo-Chico’s and his energy was so up, I had to hope he had also been pounding coffee prior to his arrival. We know though, you can always tell here.

Best frozen margs bar on de earf.

Enter Alice. She appears out of the night and walks right up to the bar like she owns the damn place. She doesn’t, but the confidence belies a level of experience that includes exploring bars all over the nation, and possessing an extraordinary whiskey palate. A hug and a greeting, and it’s down to the business of talking.

I can’t think of another place where two old friends who have met for the first time in person could after 10 minutes just get into some deep and oftentimes whimsical conversations. Barrel Proof can be loud and overbearing on some nights, but this night was not like that. Perfect mix of music, just the right level of loud, a frozen marg, a tall-boy of PBR, some Fighting Cock, Cream of Kentucky Rye, Dan-Dan Noodles from Matchbook Kitchen, and a nightcap of Seagrass lubricated the conversation and kept it going. Not one long pause, or awkward moment. Just two pals hanging out.

We talked about some people we knew, yeah there was some shade, we lamented how Instagram threw the whiskey community to the wolves after the pandemic and transformed our tight but inclusive group of whiskey insaniacs into content creators and influ-tainers and advertisers (paid and unpaid). We longed for the deeper conversations that we all once had, and were in fact, having live in person right here, right now, which only made it worse somehow.

Yep, we were talking shit about you. Yes you.

Alice is a travler, an explorer, her online handle probably being one of the most representative names of all, and she knows whiskey. She’s found her place in the travel and dining world connecting it with whiskey, and she’s the best kind of influencer- someone who simply shares her experiences and passions without hitting you over the head with cheesy Tik-Tok style promos. She explores, she experiences, and she shares. Her photography style is incredible, and she’s doing it on an iPhone XS Max (good lord come on and upgrade already!), and it always captures just the right feel for the moment she’s experiencing. I couldn’t wait to see her craft in action and she delivered (all photos in this piece are hers).

Alice is also an excellent conversationalist. Also a craft, and a bit of a lost art. Her thoughtful description of Seagrass (“Poetry”) perfectly captured what was in the glass succinctly and without nonsense or technical jargon. We didn’t even talk about the notes on it, we both know what they are, no reason to interrupt what we were experiencing in that moment- “Poetry.” I aim to be more thoughtful in my takes going forward, because I’m still thinking about that one word the next day. Our bartender asked if Seagrass was my favorite Barrell product, yes it is, next to the 14-year-old Canadian ryes, Seagrass is excellence unmatched. She shared that she loved the Infinite Barrel Project. There’s a reason I love this bar.

We talked for awhile longer, the patrons of the bar having been completely muted into the background, just us, good food, good drinks, and good conversation. I love showing off my adopted home city, and talking about it, and trying to get people to move here. We discussed Katrina (no one that lives here calls it Hurricane Katrina) a bit, and how everyone that lived through it has a story, (yes, Alice’s Uber driver had and shared one on her ride over) and how no one here has ever truly grieved what was lost because they had no choice but to be resilient. The effect that storm had on the generational fabric of this place, will be felt for several more generations at least, the trauma slowly fading from memory, but never forgotten.

Another real life meetup.

Alice got to talking about how all of this feels like home somehow. She should know, she has a childhood attachment to the city. After taking that first breath of air when arriving, it somehow feels different than any other place. I agree, first time I came here it was an irresistible urge to want to live here. Yeah, the swamp ass during the summer is a real thing, but we deal with it. Alice highlighted that the people and the feel of the place as being the most alluring reasons, not just the food, or the history, or the architecture, but the feeling of the place mattered most. Who am I to argue? I moved here and found all of those reasons compelling enough for me to never want to live somewhere else.

She mentioned that she’d like to do an extended stay in the city, and go grocery shopping and learn to navigate the city as an adult (the people here call it “making groceries” a local idiom that I find particularly amusing) to see what it would be like to live here. It’s easy to visit New Orleans and fall in love with it, many do (ahem). It’s another thing to explore and understand a place and find out if it’s a good fit. A lot of people that move here forget that a vacation in NOLA is much different than living in NOLA, and gentrifiers moving into the nightlife heavy neighborhoods thinking it’s going to be super fun, then begin to make noise complaints because they have to go to work the next day, inadvertently ripping apart the culture they fell in love with as a visitor.

I find conversations like this to be a part of the fabric of a city. The time spent drinking, eating, exploring, and socializing helps define a place. Barrel Proof and places like it are more than just a building, a bar, or a business. It’s a magnet for people to come together and share moments and thoughts, and discuss serious and frivolous things seemingly all at once. The noise and hum of the place is a night song worth listening to on repeat.

- Mickey Pinstripe