Merry Mardi Gras

The last time I was in New Orleans during Mardi Gras, I was six years old parading around as voodoo queen, Marie Laveau. Like most kids growing up in the Big Easy, I anticipated Mardi Gras with as much excitement as I did on Christmas. Last month, I learned the roots of Mardi Gras celebrations are religious, signifying the “feast” of abandonment before Lent. Carne-val originated before refrigeration when butchers gave away their inventories, since people abstained from eating meat during this time of fasting. In other words: booze, beads, bacon and debauchery all culminate on Fat Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday, then all revelry is reeled in to prepare for the resurrection of Christ. I decided to begin my focus on feasting at Commander’s Palace, the place I first got shit-faced at age 11. In honor of Grandmother’s guidelines for cocktail consumption, I chose to take it to “the limit” one more time…

I started with their signature turtle soup, and a splash of sherry…

Followed by Creole spiced tournedos of beef with whiskey smoked onions and cognac roasted mushrooms…

Leaving behind all things gluten-free, I finished with a bread pudding soufflé, topped with warm whiskey sauce…

Gone are the days of wavering between dietary extremes. Nowadays I simply choose to eat whatever items offer the highest content of alcohol.

Another legendary sweet of Mardi Gras is King Cake. King Cake is shaped like a crown, and sold 12 nights after Christmas to signify the Three Wise Men.  Each sweet brioche is topped with the colors of Mardi Gras, and includes a plastic replica of the Savior baked inside.

Note that one must be cautious when eating King Cake to avoid choking on the baby Jesus.

After a fair share of good Southern fare, it was time to hit the parades! The Krewe of Muses, an all female parade, throws special girlie goodies, including glamorous glittery shoes.

I didn’t catch any prized pumps, but later met a cutie who did…

The next day I hopped a streetcar down to the French Quarter to see how the party was progressing on Bourbon Street. In this case, pictures are worth more than my words…

Later that day, the craziness continued down St Charles Avenue with more parades, including one of my favorites, the Box of Wine Parade. Where wine flows from the breasts of grown men…

Bacchus, one of the Super Parades, started in the 1960s, features a different celebrity King every Mardi Gras. This year, the King of fraternal fun, Will Ferrell, rolled by on a grand float a block from Grandmother’s house to a small sea of waving arms.

When Bacchus began, my grandfather, Joe Riccobono, rode in the Krewe. During that time, my grandmother, Josie Riccobono, served as President of the Elenians, the first all-Italian ladies’ club in New Orleans.

My mother was once presented to the Italian society at the Elenians Mardi Gras ball.

Her father was King and my father’s cousin, Gena Uddo (who first introduced my parents), was Queen. Mom would’ve been crowned soon thereafter, but alas her royalty was ruined when she became pregnant with me.

*Video edited by Tom Vanasse

You can see where certain Queens of Drag got their inspiration…

This year, my Uncle Mark, was named one of the Top 25 Best Chefs of Louisiana, and his wife, Connie Uddo, who helps run the grassroots organization Beacon of Hope, marched in the inaugural Krewe of Lafadio, celebrating the culinary arts.

Uncle Mark told me that after Hurricane Katrina, school music programs were threatened. But bands like U2 and Green Day raised money to buy new uniforms and put instruments back in the hands of students.

Mardi Gras has evolved into a city-wide celebration that brings every age, race and religion to the party.

In a techno age where we’ve become more connected globally but less locally, it’s cool to see community come together in celebration. New Orleans offers a unique hospitable culture where the good times roll regardless of festival season. People from everywhere raise a glass and have a blast together.

It was great to get away, reconnect with my roots and dance like Dionysus!

I left with loads of plastic crap from China (without once showing my boobie parts)…

And a little more love.