SHAKEN, AND STIRRED
The cocktail is enjoying something of a renaissance in America’s bars and saloons. This uniquely American invention has its origins in the French Quarter pharmacy of Antoine Amedée Peychaud in the late 18th century, according to Stanley Clisby Arthur’s 1937 classic, Famous New Orleans Drinks & How to Mix ’Em, an engaging, engrossing guide that has been reissued by Pelican Publishing Company ($8.95 paperback; available at major book sellers). There are, of course, recipes for the more famous cocktails to emerge from the Crescent City’s fabled saloons — the Sazerac and the Old-Fashioned chief among them. But there are also directions on how to mix a host of cocktails that have largely faded from memory — drinks like the Alexandre (gin, crème de cacao, rich cream and egg white), characterized by Arthur as “Smooth as cream, delicate as dew, and easily prepared ...” The Pelican edition even maintains the original’s quaint habit of numbering pages with words: “thirteen,” “thirty-five,” “sixty-seven,” etc., all the way up to ninety-six where Famous New Orleans Drinks ends with a guide to cocktail measurements. A jigger, by the way, is one and a half ounces — not to be confused with a pony, which is merely an ounce. — Walter Pierce
GATOR-MADE
Fly your fashion flag and support Louisiana’s cultural heritage at the same time. Cocodri (Cajun French for alligator) designs wallets, iPhone cases, business card cases and flasks out of Louisiana alligator. Ridged with the natural horn from the alligator’s back to give it an inviting tactile quality, the hides are saturated with color, from antique chocolate brown to bright turquoise and candy apple red. Pick one up, and it’s unlikely you’ll be able to put it back down — trust me. While the history of the alligator is a success story, brought back from the brink of extinction in the 1960s to a healthy population today, the alligator industry in Louisiana is in dire straits. This year, because of the global recession and a dearth of demand for luxury goods, farmers, trappers and tanners are struggling to continue to harvest and process alligator leather. Enter Cocodri, a Lafayette-based business (full disclosure: The Ind’s Mary Tutwiler is a partner) with a mission to help preserve Louisiana’s alligator industry and create one-of-a-kind, handcrafted products. Each item comes with a unique serial and alligator tag number — so you can feel good about a little self-indulgence while supporting a local heritage. Items start at $250, at kiki in River Ranch, 406-0904. — Leslie Turk
BIBLICAL BLUES Bluesman Walter Jr. has been a weekly fixture for years at iMonelli, regaling patrons with his encyclopedic grasp of the blues, which he performs with facile aplomb. The Mermentau native now has five records under his belt and, somewhere along the way, found that old time religion. He lays it on thick in his most recent, Standing on the Word, a 15-song effort that doles out praise and shouts hallelujah. The record opens with Walter Jr.’s familiar swamp rock sound, “I Heard a Story,” and weaves its way through a jump-jiving “Wedding Wine” to the stripped-down, deeply Delta closer, “Dark as Death.” Standing on the Word showcases the depth of both Walter Jr.’s song writing and his newfound spirituality. The record is available locally at F. Camalo, Barnes & Noble, Asbury United Methodist Church and on-line at louisianamusicfactory.com . — WP
There will soon be a whole lot of shakin’ going on at Benny’s Sportshack Supplement Depot, a new concept by Opelousas native Benny Nele. Located at 2002 Johnston St., the supplement shop, smoothie bar and café, featuring hot off the press paninis and wraps, plans to open in late May.
Philip deMahy Sr., a once respected New Iberia ad exec, was sentenced May 2 to spend the next two years (he faced up to 100 years) in a state penitentiary after state and federal investigators found dozens of images depicting children engaged in lewd sexual acts on his personal computer.
This year’s Cool Town issue is all about people who are not native to South Louisiana but made a conscious decision to be here, to be among us, to participate in our culture and contribute to it.
A shelved ordinance transferring $200,000 from a northside drainage project to a south Lafayette development may not break any laws, but it stinks to high heaven.
An effort to restore a shuttered dancehall and document other vacant or razed honky-tonks could serve as a model for saving an endangered species of entertainment.
Lafayette’s gene pool has been host to a long line of eccentric characters who have blurred the lines between crazy, genius, disturbed and curiously entertaining.