By Marcelle Bienvenu

Just as Memorial Day unofficially marks the beginning of summer, Labor Day tells us it’s time to say goodbye to it.
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By Lorin Gaudin

Even after 20 years I am amazed, delighted and otherwise in love with New Orleans. My husband’s family has been in Louisiana since the middle Sixteenth century, our State laws still operate under the Napoleonic Code, politics are still of the Long variety and the short list is what can’t be said about the food.
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By Lorin Gaudin

My dad, brother and I are condiment freaks. From the mundane to the obscure and unusual, we seldom discriminate. Mustard, however, is our favorite.
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By Susan Doré

Air conditioning is a wonderful invention. It makes such things as skyscrapers, movie theatres, and mildew-free upholstered furniture possible in Louisiana.
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By Marcelle Bienvenu

Every spring and summer for ten years I’ve observed my neighbor, Mr. Champagne, plant his garden. And every year, except for 1993 and this year, the garden produced superb potatoes, tomatoes (several varieties), bell peppers, cayenne peppers, baby limas (the size of my little finger nail), eggplant, and okra.
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By Charlotte Armstrong

As we enter into the month of August we’re already smack dab in the middle of one of the most powerful astrological signs. Leo, symbolized by the proud lion, is a fire sign with a larger than life roar!
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By Mary Tutwiler

Growing up in New Orleans is a mixed blessing. There’s the naughty satisfaction of knowing, at the nascent age of nine, about barroom strippers, glimpsed through the open doorways on a Sunday night, while strolling after dinner down Bourbon Street, fingers clasped safely inside my grandmother’s large hand.
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By John DeMers

As a Greek kid growing up in an Italian-Polish neighborhood in Chicago, third-generation restaurateur Jimmy Bannos had no idea his future lay in cooking New Orleans food.
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By Susan Doré

You’ve purchased all of the school supplies and new clothes, confirmed the bus or carpool schedules, and noted on the calendar the date of “Meet the Teacher” night. Think you can breathe easily and contentedly wave to the children as they traipse off to the first day of school?
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By Patrick Mould

“I love my job!” shouts Marc Savoy, the exuberant accordionist of the Cajun supergroup, the Savoy-Doucet Cajun Band.
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