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August 18, 2006
The East
I woke up with a craving. I've been OD'ing on po-boys since I got back in town. Parasol's, Parkway Bakery, Guy's, Ye Olde College Inn, Monica's...all are tired of me darkening their doorstep every damn day.
I needed something different.
I needed a bánh mì.
Ever since I first got introduced to these Vietnamese po-boys last year, I've been in love with them. Pork, onions, cilantro, daikon, carrots, and raw jalapenos, on good French bread; it is something to behold.
Based on recommendations from the New Orleans LJ community, I headed out to to the Vietnamese community in New Orleans East, to Dong Phuong Bakery on Chef Menteur Highway. I brought my camera, since it's been a while since I've done any food porn, and since I'd passed through N.O. East a few times and wanted to try to capture some of the images out there. 'Cause it ain't pretty.
Dong Phuong reopened last month, and it's all new and shiny and sparkly clean. I got the #5, Vietnamese pork bánh mì, to go. $2.38, plus tax. I wanted to buy everything in sight, the cookies were to die for, but I resisted. Snapped a few pictures, thanked the lovely bakery ladies, and headed out to see the neighborhood.
Most of N.O. East is very unlike the other flooded parts of New Orleans. Built on landfill since the 60's, it's much more like the typical suburban sprawl you see in any other city. Cookie cutter developments, apartment complexes, and strip malls for days.
And unlike the older parts of the city where residents and business owners are saying "fuck you" to Katrina and fighting the good fight, in N.O. East, it looks like the businesses, the chain stores and strip malls and department stores and apartment managers, are all saying "fuck you" to New Orleans. Nothing is open. The only signs of life are a few mom-and-pop places like Dong Phuong, and single family homes in Village De L'Est. Everywhere else, the old school stench of Katrina refrigerators and mold and garbage prevail.
I took some pictures of an apartment complex on Chef Highway, and the apartment manager chased me down. He claimed to be worried about looters, but I got the sense that he didn't like the idea of somebody taking pictures of the pitiful state of his property one year after the storm. Only partially gutted, still with refrigerators lined up in the parking lot, surrounded by chain link fences so that nobody can have access. I wonder if former residents are allowed access.
I found an absolutely huge FEMA trailer camp in the Vietnamese neighborhood on Dwyer Road. Again, I got lots of attention from the rent-a-cop doing security. In the city a certain amount of disaster tourism is the norm, but out here, in the very farthest reaches of civilization before you hit the lake, the level of paranoia seems very high. Strangers taking pictures are an unusual and unwelcome occurrence.
Once again I thought I might be able to capture the scope of the desolate landscape, and once again, after taking a few pictures, I got frustrated and gave up. It's so hard to explain. It feels worse even than a lot of the City. You can get a sense of the size of it if you drive east on I-10, from the high rise to 510, and stay in the right lane so that you can go slow enough to look around. Mile after mile after mile of suburb and apartment building and commercial development, all with dark empty windows looking out over overgrown lots. I can't get it on film. You just have to see it.
I doubled back to Lake Forest Mall, where no businesses in the neighborhood are open. The mall parking lot entrances have all been blocked by piles of rubble to keep out looters and squatters. The nearby office buildings are damaged, blighted, and abandoned.
Many have said before that the Lower Ninth Ward reminds them of Hiroshima. Out here in the East, it feels different. It feels like Chernobyl.
I sat at the entrance to the mall, in my car with the AC running and the radio on, and I ate my bánh mì. It was fucking good.
I finished my sandwich, and then it started to rain. I crumpled up the sandwich wrappers and tossed them on the seat next to me, and navigated my way past the debris and the broken traffic lights back onto I-10, back to where I live in the Isle of Denial, back to my telecommuting job for a company based in Austin, a city where everything works, where everything is open and where the most stressful thing anyone can imagine is wondering whether we'll ship this software release on time.
I live and work in one world, and a completely different world is right down the road. And honestly, I don't know which one is the normal one and which one is the surreal one. I just don't know any more.
Posted by ray at August 18, 2006 8:36 PM | Permalink
Categories: [food | katrina | new orleans | work ]
Comments
Beautiful. Thanks.
Posted by: ashley Morris at August 18, 2006 10:43 PM
That community is amazing. I went to the Tet new year celebration way back at the beginning of the year. They were already coming back.
For a close banh mi, try Hong Kong Market on the West Bank.
Posted by: Frolic at August 19, 2006 8:12 AM
Great post, Ray. But as to po boys: no Domilise's?
Blasphemy...
Posted by: Adrastos at August 19, 2006 9:34 AM
I've tried to get to Domilise's twice already! Once on a Monday (closed) and then once on a Friday and it turns out they were closed again for summer vacation. Are they back open yet?
I also forgot to mention Crabby Jack's, I frickin' lived at Crabby Jack's the first couple of weeks I was here.
Posted by: Ray at August 19, 2006 9:38 AM
Domilise's is my neighbor, so I can report with certainty that they are open. Everyday but Thursday and Sunday, I think.
Posted by: Frolic at August 19, 2006 11:12 AM
Amazing post, Ray, and great pics. Thanks. I know it's not imaginable, but you do a great job of describing it. Good luck getting to Dom's. Yummmm. I'm gonna miss meeting your family tonight! Ya'll have fun! :)
Posted by: Sophmom at August 19, 2006 3:56 PM
It does feel like Chernobal. I went today to go to the Bakery. There is a lot of life there but a big cloud of sadness too.
Posted by: Karen at August 19, 2006 11:33 PM
The best French Bread in New Orleans!!!!!!! and only 30 cents a loaf!!!!!!!!!
Posted by: rick at August 21, 2006 1:45 PM
It's very much like Chernobyl. Desolate. And not because of something like radiation, that poisons the air/water/soil... It's very desolate.
Posted by: Darkneuro at August 21, 2006 3:18 PM
Both are real, both are surreal, and none of the above. I miss you guys. Thank you for the dose of (sur)reality.
Posted by: Kristi at August 22, 2006 9:33 PM
Todd's right on the money about the Banh Mi at Hong Kong Market. Also, make sure that you buy the little baguettes when you are out at Duong Phong-those guys make, hands down, the best bread in New Orleans (apologies to Leidenheimer's-I still love you, but that bread is pretty amazing stuff). Their jelly rolls are delicious as well and Duong Phong has an entire range of fillings in them-Oriental oddities to Western sweetness. It's all good.
Posted by: Brooks at August 24, 2006 9:57 AM
Thanks for the great post & pix.
Hope you don't mind, but I've created a link to this post from my Chef Highway web page.
Yeah, I created a web page on the Chef. I commute on it every day and wanted to document it's "recovery".
Thanks again!!!
Posted by: judyb at August 24, 2006 12:29 PM
don phuong's rocks try the french cold cut also the pho' is good too
Posted by: jmlrph at April 12, 2007 9:35 PM
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