Mosca’s.
Creole-Italian is the foundation of the New Orleanian concept of the neighborhood restaurant. These are small businesses that I really worry about, not necessarily because they may struggle, but because they may decide it’s a good time for the family to throw in the towel.
Liuzza’s, for, example. On Bienville, mind you - I like by the Track, but Bienville is just a pure distillation of Irish-Italian ‘Yat New Orleans (“The Pope in Avignon!”, as John Goodman remarked in Treme). We were in town for Mardi Gras and had the bulk of Monday to kill before our flight, so we dropped by Liuzza’s shortly before they opened. We were sitting outside when the owner opened the door and asked, in his great Mid-City accent, “Ya hungry? Ya thirsty? Well, c’mon in!” Within minutes we we inundated with red beans, shrimp remoulade, garlic bread, and of course the big frosted mugs of Abita Amber. Professor Longhair, Dr. John and Allen Toussaint were on repeat, because this is the kind of place where they must be on repeat.
I fear it will be some time before we return, and I fear that New Orleans will be very different. This August will be the 15th anniversary of the federal flood, btw.