On our last night in New Orleans, we planned to eat out. We aren't accustomed to dining in restaurants - not even fast food. I've dedicated a good deal of my blog this last few weeks to describing the lengths we will go to in order to avoid eating in restaurants - particularly when we travel, and some of the pitfalls. It bums the kids out that we aren't like 'other families' who enjoy eating out as part of vacation plans.
I'm guessing 'other families' don't have kids who feel it necessary to hide their toothbrushes out of fear that their siblings might use them. Just saying.
At any rate, our budget conscious system came back to bite us. Big time.
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When in New Orleans, eating beignets is a must! |
We had been given a gift card to a restaurant by a dancer who won it when she placed on the podium. She left town before she could use it, so we stopped at this diner in the late afternoon for a snack. It was a bit off the beaten path, but our family is incapable of turning down free food. The kids and Coach feasted on a basket of fried shrimp and french fries. Since most of the food in New Orleans appeared to be fried, I was patting myself on the back for bringing my food with me.
For dinner we chose a restaurant recommended by the concierge at the hotel. We wanted to try some of the authentic New Orleans food. Reggie and Curly ordered fried chicken. Tank ate catfish. Coach ate some form of seafood too. Mini enjoyed some grilled chicken. Coach decided to introduce them to fried oysters. I ordered myself a well-deserved fillet. For dessert the kids feasted on banana foster bread pudding. It looked heavenly.
Reggie refused to finish his dessert. He told us that he was too full. Understandably. Curly, on the other hand, was still going strong.
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Reg had to call it quit midway thru his banana foster bread pudding |
It was a great meal and we had a great time. We all felt incredibly full as we practically rolled back to our hotel. We all probably overdid it a bit. I can't help but blame the rarity of our dining out habit on what happened next . . .
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