Fleeing deep fried shrimp on the gulf coast

Hubby's Texas project was done - FINALLY - and we needed a getaway. So we did what we'd talked about before we came to Odessa - drive to the coast and then follow the gulf to New Orleans.

We started in San Antonio, which is, surprisingly to us, one of the US's 10 largest cities. I'd heard about the Riverwalk and wanted to check it out. My beloved HEB is headquartered there, in the historic armoury buildings, which we passed as we walked below the gorgeous historic homes of the King William district on the Riverwalk's residential stretch. It was glorious to walk through green, beside water. We're not in wind-scorched Odessa anymore!

Just as wonderful was that we were in a foodie town. I had avidly scoped out Chowhound, Yelp, Texas Monthly, planning my marks, plotting my appetite, and scored two wonderful meals. Gwendolyn is a chef-driven, locavore-focused restaurant with a prixe fixe 3 or 5 course menu that changes daily. The space is small, perched at ground level above the riverwalk and getting there was our first emergence from the encompassing landscaped prettiness of the river. Wow, holy parking lot-and-rundown building wasteland above ground, Batman! Seek shelter in the restaurant, pronto.

Gwendlyn is refined clotted cream walls and dark wood, but we opted for the balcony suspended over the river. We had walked lots that day and were ready for the full menu. First up was a yummy little pot of polenta topped with caramelized onions. Right up Hubby's umami alley. Loved this restaurant's focus on 100 mile sourcing and French style 'presentation' of each course, although our extremely enthusiastic waiter was a tad over-involved; lengthy dish descriptions, lots of check backs, essays on the superlativeness of the chef/ingredients/philosophy. The sommelier and the chef both stopped by too. Yes, we are also food lovers but please - let us eat!

Then came a cold salt cod soup with tiny crackers. Also great. By that point Hubby and I were enjoying each other, dinner and the warm evening so much I forgot to take photos. This will be a theme. Me and cameras - not so sympatico. Trust me, as the vacation went on, there were plenty of agonized moments as I looked at an empty plate, or worse, a bill, and wailed "I forgot to take a picture!" (or even the camera) I'm all about the eating. But really, it was getting too dark for good photos anyway. Right? Right.

The next day we had a rainy day lunch amongst the trees at The Lodge. A rambling hundred year old house in the 'burbs, it has not had its character as a home removed; the bar is in the living room amongst the leather couches and we ate in an upper bedroom with lots of windows out to the trees. At lunch The Lodge is also a prix fixe menu, we both started with the butternut squash soup. Although not unique, it keeps showing up because it tastes so good. This was an excellent version. Look, I remembered to photograph it before I'd eaten it all!

Hubby had the roast beef sandwich with gorgeous rare roast sliced onto a crusty homemade roll, topped with potato salad with pasta salad on the side. In West Texas bread means soft and white, so the balance of loft and chew was really appreciated. I had the boneless pork chop with corn salsa and roasted potatoes and onions. Really good food. The Lodge has a cult dessert, their 'souffle' - a Nutella enriched chocolate cake with peanut butter mousse and caramel. Wow. Since Hubby doesn't like chocolate, I had it all to myself.

We then spent a week in Laguna Madre, just outside South Padre Island. The best food moment was an adequate meal in a 'fancy' restaurant on a deck just in time to see a most spectacular sunset. Frustratingly, everywhere we ate they served fish from distant oceans and sentenced the local gulf shrimp to the deep fryer. Just so spring-break, lowest-common-denominator sad.

On to an overnight in Galveston to give my aching butt a rest from all the driving. More of that misty coast, better food, great architecture and a long seawall to stroll. The best meal was at Stingaree Marina, an hour north of Galveston, where guys were pulling fish out of East Bay a few feet away while we ate absolutely delicious lump crab sauteed in butter with basil.

Okay, but really, the highlight of this trip was our next stop: The Big Easy. Hubby has been steadily taking me to places I've long dreamed about and thanks to Hotwire, we stayed downtown at the 4 1/2 star Le Pavillion Hotel with a rooftop pool and a 10pm pb&j buffet. First up on the must do list was Cafe du Monde. My kind of breakfast - fresh beignet and cafe au lait at noon.

I love that people dress up there! Odessa was not only full of cowboy boots, which was fine, but endless jeans and crappy tshirts no matter what the event. We booked at Emeril's that night and walked through the sultry evening to the busy, warm space. (LOVE bare shoulder nights!) Scallops on a menu are always a draw and these were eyes-rolled-back-in-head, slumped-in-chair good; I had to restrain Hubby from licking the fresh corn sauce off the plate they were perched on. He got disconcertingly focused on his beef two ways: filet, and short rib shepherd's pie and I went on to shrimp and grits. I mean, it's the South! Eat grits! Last call was the banana cream pie Emeril's is justly famous for. Enormous, it defeated me, but it was worth the fight.

We had several great lunches: an accidental stop when the target resto was closed where I had my first lip-smacking shrimp remolade. Coop's is locally top-rated for their fried chicken and served delicious jambalaya on the side, better by far than the jambalaya they demonstrated at The New Orleans School of Cooking but the story telling cook was so entertaining I would highly recommend spending a morning there.

Our last night in New Orleans was magic. I was wearing a swirly silk dress that was a match for the city. We started at the Royal Oyster bar for oysters, of course, chargrilled with garlic and butter. Hubby couldn't get enough so I hung back and let him finish them. Then on to Mr. B's for the best barbecue shrimp in town, where he did the same for me. The shrimp aren't cooked on the bbq and the sauce isn't a bbq sauce, rather there are a pile of giant, whole sea bugs, swimming in a gorgeous sauce, rich with butter and slightly spicy - it reminded me of a curry. Both dishes come with baguette to mop up the luxurious puddles, a most decadent progressive dinner. Sated, we walked to Frenchmen Street for some Mississipi blues in a bar with its doors wide open to the night. Under a pressed tin ceiling Hubby slow danced with me until our feet could take no more, and then we sat and hummed along. When we finally left, the lead singer thanked us for coming, looking so nice, and so we went back to our swanky room laughing.

I hope to see Nawlins again.