Dreamie Weenies

Listen, I like poor boys and muffalettas. You’ll find me in line at Johnny’s and at Central Grocery often, patiently waiting behind visitors who are nervously practicing saying muffaletta or ordering it dressed without feeling foolish.
But every once in a while, you just want a quick American treat done in a New Orleans way. That’s when I head to North Rampart to get a hot dog at the place next door to Mary’s Hardware’s new location between Orleans and Saint Ann. The owners of Dreamie Weenies are cool guys who take the dog and its surrounding environment seriously. I almost always get a Genchili dog (which I think should be called a GentillyChili) with polish sausage and then only add mustard and ketchup (you get your choice of type of dog and added condiments) as needed. The Genchili comes with their own “creole mix” and homemade chili which add just enough spice and residual flavor to make you want to slow down after each bite to savor.
What works against these guys is that people think of the hot dog as the crappy thing you see in the roller at the gas station or the burnt thing to the side of the grill at your neighborhood bbq, but these are made as meals and should be treated that way. I ain’t no slip of a girl that gets filled up from a latte; I eat food like my Polish and Greek and Cajun peops did before me and even I cannot always finish my Genchili in one setting. So the 8 bucks spent there feeds tummies well, the lovely inside feeds the eye and ears (music is local and lively) and the caring and onsite owners with their homemade ingredients feed the New Orleans soul.
So don’t be a snob- go get a dog done right.

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Miss Carrie Mae White 1887-1974

On the marble steps of 924 Orleans, see the plaque for Miss Carrie. There is a great description of her taken from the marvelous book 912 Orleans, The Story of a Rescue by Walter Lowry (illustrations by Mark Lowry), written about the 1960s renovation of the family home:
“The sun sets slowly. Its long red rays steam horizontally down the stillness of Orleans Street. Miss Carrie has brought out her folding chair and has taken her seat by her stoop to observe her domain. She insists she is 78 years old. Her physique denies this assertion, but her wisdom stoutly sustains it…Her friendship is very highly to be treasured.”

I miss the Miss Carries of the French Quarter….

Miss Carrie 924 Orleans Street