I only bring them out on the rare occasion that I forget how much they really hurt or plan to get drunk enough to numb the pain.

When Nick and I were first dating, we would fantasize about Lakers season tickets and nights at the new Ritz downtown. Now we’re done pretending we’ll be filthy rich any minute (at least for now), but we’re not done celebrating like we are.

Hence, dinner at WP24, Wolfgang Puck’s Asian influenced cuisine on the 24th floor of the Ritz Carlton. Not only was the 24th floor perfectly appropriate because of the insane panoramic view of Los Angeles, but also because my birthday just so happens to fall on August 24th. That’s my version of numerology, folks.

Turns out a family friend is the Chef de Cuisine–David McIntyre. Also turns out he happened to be out that night. Bummer.

But! Immediately we were greeted with the got-damn best amuse bouche to ever make it’s way to my table.

Sesame crusted prawn toast:

These taste like winning the lottery–there’s no way to experience it unless it happens to you.

Then another amuse bouche, which made me think that the staff knew that I knew the chef. But actually I think everyone gets that kind of service, whether their sister is best friends with the chef’s sister or not.

My appetizer was delicate and bold and like a fancy Chinese banquet in your mouth. Or my mouth.

Steamed curried Lobster-Shrimp Sui Mai & Shrimp Har Gow with Hot Mustard and Chili Garlic Dipping Sauce:

Spring Rolls with Maine Lobster, Prawns and 10 Spice Honey

Nick thought these tasted like hot dogs, but I beg to differ.

At this point I was full, which I ignored since we had two more courses coming.

Shanghai Noodles with Fresh Chilies, Thai Basil Leaves and Slow Cooked Oxtail:

I’m sorry, I know my pictures are horrible. But you get the idea, hopefully. I hate using flash in restaurants at night and Diana wasn’t there with her Droid flashlight.

Maine Black Cod Broiled with Chinese Ginseng Honey with a Roasted Black Sesame Vinaigrette, Tempura Asparagus, and Pea Tendril Salad:

Nick had the Stir-Fry Kobe Beef with Chili Garlic & Sweet Bean Chili Sauce with Golden Chives, Peas, Wild Ramps, Eggplant and Fried Baby Spinach.

And finally,

Marjolasian: Layers of Dark Chocolate/White Espresso Mousse/Cashew Nougatine/Milk Chocolate Glace:

And even more finally,

Pistachio Cherry Fondant Crumble with Murray Farms Cherries/Toffee Yogurt Sorbet/Spiced Crisps:

The appetizers were to die for. Everything was packing heat. As in spicy. As opposed to armed and dangerous. You like when I clarify, don’t you?

The atmosphere felt very special. High up, dark, modern, removed, voyeuristic, sexy/businessy (=clandestine!)

Parking was a rip off. We should’ve floated there and then used the valet money for a room instead.

I will absolutely be back, mostly so I can somehow find a way to hijack a boatload of the Prawn Toast. And also say hello to the Chef.

I woke up thinking about The Ivy’s grilled veggie salad, maybe because my family had a bad habit of celebrating all birthdays there until our we grew too large to fit in any room they had to offer.

Here she is, with shrimp, in all her glory:

Oh and the hot, weird, pumpernickel (?) bread, that I make an exception to my ‘no bread’ rule, for:

Nick’s burger that I meant to have a bite of but he, in self-defense, demolished before I had the chance to pounce:

But we forgive him cause look how cute he is:

And since it was my birthday, somehow we ended up with a cobbler in front of me and homemade ice cream sundaes in front of them:

Might I recommend NOT eating this much right before you get a 2 hour Thai massage/have an elderly woman beat the shit out of you while you wear lightweight fisherman’s pants?

You’re welcome.

Well guess what, you’re selfish and they will be so hurt by your self-centered need for “time off” that they will make you think you have food poisoning every time you try to eat them.

Beef. It’s not what’s for dinner. At least for a little while.

Rarely is a sequel as good as the first. This might be one of those times. Totally safe for work, go for it! Ha.

Cafe du Monde.

Not ideal on a Saturday so we decided to get in the long To Go line.

One worker told the girl in front of us the wait time was approximately 45 minutes, just to order coffee and beignets. Less than a minute later, one of the dudes on break approached us and asked what we wanted, brought us our food within a couple of minutes and took cash from us. Most ideal situation ever!

We sat and enjoyed our brekkie while the girl who had been in front of us in line glared at us for, oh, let’s say, approximately 45 minutes.

Crack!

A stroll through Jackson Square to at least con myself into feeling like I was walking off the beignets.

Some walking around the French Quarter before lunch.

Next up lunch at a small joint called La Divina that said they had veggie muffalettas so we gave it a shot.

This is what happens when you order salad in NOLA. Olives and onions on bread, basically:

Not so traditional muffaletta:

A taste of coffee with chicory and a taste without:

Then some cantaloupe sorbet and brandy gelato:

Then we stumbled across marching bands, strip clubs, trannies, and other special surprises…

More fun seeing the French Quarter during the day than on friday night when all the jerkoffs were out in full effect.

NOLA restaurants. I tried to maintain for my first meal there, at Cochon. I really did.:

I even ignored this, hot, buttery, soft amazing bread while Nick and Andy, Nick’s friend/best host and tour guide ever, went to town on it.

Meanwhile, I’m acting busy taking pictures of sauce that I don’t give a hoot about. Ha! Give a hoot, I’m gonna use that more.

Then these corn fritters (roasted corn cala with heirloom tomatoes), the closest thing I could find to vegan food on the menu, arrived. Sort of a trophy dish, looks amazing but not a lot of substance or flava.

The boys had some sort of beefy soup. Totally forget what it was. Who cares?!

Then I had a gazpacho special with watermelon in it that was both delicious and unsatisfying.

The boys got down with some brisket:

And I left starving. Don’t get me wrong, the food was good, but it was immediately clear that Nawlins was no place for vegans.

Come dinner time I was feeling vulnerable and over the vegan bullsh. Yes that’s a word. In my world.

Andy took us to Pascal’s Manale, an awesome old school Italian-Creole joint, opened in 1913, where they are most famous for their barbecued shrimp.

Side of lettuce with my oil Salad?:

OK fuck it. Just give me calamari. NOW!

Here am I am, crossing over to the other side:

Here’s some shrimp that didn’t belong to me but that I made my own and what I believe was a seafood pan roast. One would think I would pay attention to what my dining partners were eating. But one would be wrong.

Sorry that my pictures were blurred by calamari excitement.

Afterward we hit up Sucré in the Garden District for dessert. I would be lying if I said we didn’t come back here at least two and possibly three more times.

cookies ‘n’ cream:

coconut basil holy shit what the fuck best thing ever why can’t i make this sorbet:

most delicate chocolate covered macaroon ever:

strawberry infused cupcake:

Those macaroons are super fluff delicate insane yumminess and they ship across the country.

Afterward, we hit the streets, where one two many frat guys nearly projectile vomited in our direction.

Big first day, huh?

lasted 10 months longer than I ever meant it to last and I will probably never consume as much meat/fish/chicken/etc. as I used to thanks to that experience. Felt good while I was doing it until it didn’t feel good.

So that’s that. Love you!

I love my whip but an upgrade wouldn’t hurt. I like my cars like you like your women–small waists and big hips. Somebody hook up the XKR:

A shit load Four of these please:

A $30,700 everrose gold daytona–perhaps the most expensive diamondless Rolex.

I’m a whole size bigger in Louboutin’s, that bastard. So I’ll need a 38.5. Thanksyou’readoll!

Huge fan of the black patent Feticha.

Or the black Big Lips Pumps.
You choose!

A massage (or better yet, a package of massages!) from anyone but this guy:

Four A Shitload of Cartier Love bracelets in gold and rose gold to stack on my right arm so my Daytona doesn’t get lonely.

These vintage persols with amazing detail that I need immediately if not sooner:

An annual membership to Wine of the Month Club:

Last but not least, you can never have too many pets. So if anyone gets their hands on these two, send ‘em my way on August 24, so I can, um, domesticate them.

I’m sure you’d believe me if I said the list goes on. Cause it does. But I thought I’d stop before my list of jaguars, gold bullion, and personal assistants started to sound extravagant. You’re welcome.

Thank God, cause I could barely wait. Meet my beautiful new baby niece, Savannah August McCormick:

With her proud daddy…

With me…

What a blessing.

I got there at 6:00, where my first two priorites were to find Diana and get a massage before all the suckers who weren’t VIP showed up at 7:00.

Massages were provided by El León Spa and The Raven, both owned by the kind gentleman who took the artful picture of me getting rubbed down amongst a bunch of sunflowers.

No doubt, this was a highlight of the night and I plan to get the Rockstar massage on my birthday this month. It includes 2 hours of Thai body massage, face, neck, and head massage, and finally a facial mask.

There were a few vegan offerings:

Susan Feniger’s Street was there with a nutty, coconutty, melon salad:

I was also able to secure some beets from Tagine, on Robertson:

some couscous from Momed in Beverly Hills:

some chips from Cafe Was:

a little pea purée. ha! get it?:

and a chicpea flatbread sweet potato balsamic situation that Diana found for me from who knows where:

Looking back, that’s a pretty good amount of vegan options for me. Here’s some of what other people ate:

25 Degrees Burger:

Crispy Shrimp Taco in a Jicama “tortilla” from Reservoir:

Milk Desserts, where, when I asked if there was anything vegan, they asked if it would count if I chewed the food and then spit it out. amazing:

Valerie Confections:

This guy introduced himself to me by pointing out my cleavage…

…so I stuck him with this mystery lady every chance I got:

(Photo cred Lindsay of laist.com–thanks for collaborating on my attempt to photograph the mad hat wearer).

Maybe they both had too much of this:

Oh wait, maybe that was me who was “overserved.”

Speaking of overserved, donate to the underserved in order to help them get much needed basic services like dental and health care here.

Overall, lovely evening for a very worthwhile cause. And always a pleasure to hang out with Diana, Tony, Lindsay, and the lady in the hat.