My New Orleans adventure came to an end last night. After a bowl of seafood gumbo and a plate of “shrimp remmy,” as our server affectionately referred to shrimp rémoulade, I was off to the airport. I believe some might argue that technically my dinner last night was actually a pre-made turkey sandwich I grabbed as all the food stands were closing at my connecting airport and then snarfed down on the plane. But I prefer to remember it as that gumbo, earthy and rich, and remmy, sweet and fresh and spicy.
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