A Little Southern Charm

For my spring vacation, Drick and I went to stay with a friend, Dave, in New Orleans. Contrary to popular thought, it’s not a big pile of rubble. (There are of course parts where the devastation is still being cleaned up and, with the help of many organizations, rebuilt.) However, the Garden District where Dave resides was in full swing with beautiful buildings, gorgeous landscaping, lots of dogs, and tons of “hellos”, “How ya doin’?”s and “hi”s. We very happily indulged in all the Big Easy had to offer. (Or at least we tried to.)

The South really is a more thoughtful place. At least in our experience. Maybe it’s the long months with the bitter cold winds biting at your face, or the begrudged feeling you get when you have to dig your car out from the 1 1/2 feet of snow that fell while you slept soundly, or maybe it’s the rivalry between the Red Sox and the Yankees. Whatever it is something makes us Northeastern types less friendly and less interested in Joe Schmo to our right.

Everywhere in Nawlin’s we found friendliness. From the street car drivers, to the maintenance guys on the golf course everyone was smiling, helpful, and ready to pass it on (with a drink) to the next guy. (I think it partly has to do with the open container laws and the fact that this city will party at the drop of a hat. No wonder my aunt, Peggy, who grew up here is so much fun!)

I can’t tell you how badly I want to just write about the food and the culture and my incredible round of golf (J). But I wouldn’t be writing for the family biz if it didn’t deal with etiquette, and I had one moment in particular that stood out as a moment of sheer good etiquette, something that this North Easterner would probably never experience in her homeland of frozen ground and faces.

Our host was taking us to one of his favorite spots for dinner. I don’t remember the name of it, just that the word Dante was in it and they had an outdoor seating area. Unfortunately Dante’s was closed. So we zipped around the block to another place. Closed. Then we saw across the street there was what looked like a restaurant, so we figured we’d walk in and check it out. Dave had never been there, and we were in the mood for anything at this point. With white lace curtains drawn up and no menu outside we had no idea if they were even open (and certainly not expecting it after our first two tries).

As I opened the door, I was greeted by an outstanding aroma, and a beautiful hallway. As I opened the door further, I saw a room to the right with white tablecloths, candles, and all gentlemen in coats and ties, none of whom looked under the age of 50. The three of us, me in a casual skirt, and wrinkled top, Drick in half-off-the-ass jeans and his red and white sneakers, and Dave in his casually crinkled dress shirt and cords all thought at the exact same moment not for us, not tonight.

Just as we were about to turn and walk out unnoticed. The hostess of about, of about 50+ years, blew me away. She walked up to her little stand and with the utmost kindness and sincerity, the kind of sincerity that made you ever so grateful and appreciative that it still exists, said, “Good evening, how are you all doing tonight?” “Fine, thank you,” we responded in our best, we’re-at-grandma’s-friend’s-house voices. “May I have the name for your reservation?” Lady whoever you are, you are too sweet for words. “I think we’re a little underdressed this evening.” I responded apologetically. And Dave chimed in with a regretful sounding “We didn’t make a reservation.” Everyone chuckled a little because it was so clear from the moment we breathed the air inside, that this wasn’t the place for us, not tonight anyway, and she was so kind to act as if it was fine that we were there. “Please take a card and come back another night, it’s the best food in New Orleans!” “Thank you we certainly will.” A few steps away from the restaurant, the three of us little scrubs laughed whole heartedly and kept repeating how that would never happen up North. In the North you would have gotten a dirty look, and an immediate dismissal for your attire. Down here, it’s sweetly ignored that you’re horrendously underdressed and you’re treated with the utmost genteel and understanding. God bless the South, for that southern charm! 

 

Comments

[Stephen]

I think it is great that New Orleans is such a kind place. I wish that manners were improved elsewhere. I know in San Diego (where I live) there are many who could use some improvement in their manners. I would like to go there sometime and see it. I also heard that the recovery has gone slow especially in places like the lower ninth ward after Hurricane Katrina.

I would also like to comment on something else. I remember going into a resturant once and feeling underdressed. It was one of those days in which my dad came to visit and we were spending the day together. At the last minute, he decides to take us to a nice resturant, and I felt very underdressed for such a nice place. Well, the place did not have a dress code, but I still felt like I should have dressed nicer if I knew he was going to take me to such a place.

[LIZZIE]

I'm sure it was fine, especially if the restaurant didn't have a dress code. We've all experienced that before. I find that if it happens to me, I become more aware of what I'm wearing, and try to wear things that are universally acceptable (or as close to that as possible).

[Paul]

The south is amazing! I'm happy to hear about your experience in New Orleans! I loved it!!! It is like a completely different world in the south, compared to the North- I was recently in Houston for work and couldn't get enough of everyone's Southern Charm. I wish they bottled it up and sold it to people in the North!!! :-)

[anthea]

I was there in Feb & did blog about the food (http://nightkitchener.blogspot.com/2008/02/eating-in-nola.html)

Everyone was beyond polite & friendly though, a whole lot of fun!

[Lizzie]

Glad you had a great experience too!

[Kylie]

I live in Ohio but all of my family is from Tennessee and I just feel like every single person is friendlier down there. People smile more, kids aren't afraid to just walk up to you, and people in restaurants and businesses are just kinder. I love it and I'm glad you loved it too.

[Lorraine]

Oh to live somewhere that there is a dress code (and charm, grace and good manners)!