How did settlers create New Orleans from swampland?

of amazing. Well, actually, what's weird about that is technically it's only in the French Quarter that you're allowed to do that, you know, as long as your drink isn't in a glass or a metal container. But you know, if you go into other areas that are pretty close by, it's not a law that really gets enforced that often, as I think you probably saw when you were there. And this is a city where the official motto is let the good times roll A pop quiz for you?

Do you know how to say that in French? Mango? No? I do not, okay me either. I think it's some thing like les le bon temp roulet. Maybe I just butchered it completely, like I can't even imagine for all those who speak French, and for even for those who don't, they just know that I butchered it. I feel like you're just saying, like the line from that Lady Lady song or maybe from the Little Mermaid, I just stole a line. But you know, it is kind of amazing that,

like New Orleans, it's such a good times town. But but I'm curious, like, like, are you just telling me that like New Orleans likes to drink? Is that? Is that what is all about? Now? I'm pretty sure the drinking is common knowledge at this point. It was you know, the thing that caught my attention when we were talking to Gabe about the research for this week was that it's really more like what the residents used to treat

the hangover that comes after all the drinking. And that's a big steamy bowl of yaka Maine soup, as you know, also known as old sober. It's a soy sauce flavored broth with noodles, beef, chicken, shrimp, hard boiled eggs, and chopped onions. It actually sound, it is pretty good. And the amazing thing that sets this hangover cure apart from

all the others is that it actually works. So there were some researchers that looked into this from the American Chemical Society, and what they've found is that the traditional soup contains all the right ingredients to help the body recover from a hangover. So the hardwalled eggs have this compound that helps expel toxic substances. The salty broth helps replenish sodium and potassium, and the beef and shrump helps slow down the absorption of alcohol. So it's like a

one stop shop for this hangover cure. So how did dish called yakamine with all this soy sauce flavor, How that end up becoming a signature dish here? Like it doesn't sound super southern, Yeah, that's true. And actually, according to local legend, the dish came to the Big Easy by way of local soldiers that had been stationed in Korea.

This was back during the nineteen fifties, and so when the war was over, they brought this soup of this yakamine soup back home with them and it's been the city's surefire hangover cure ever since, and that's pretty neat. So I've definitely heard before that New Orleans is one of the most culturally diverse cities in America, and it's kind of fun to see how it extends into food

as well. Yeah, it's that's definitely true, and it's always been this huge cultural melting pot, going all the way back to the beginning of that highly unusual three hundred year old history and all of those years mingling cultures. It's really turned New Orleans into this super fun and very unique American city. And that's why I thought we should focus on this today, like this all of these one of a kind customs and traditions that make the

city unlike any other out there. So with three centuries of stories to pull from, there's obviously a lot to talk about. So let's dive in. Yeah, Hei, their podcast listeners, welcome to Part Time Genius. I'm Will Pearson and as always I'm joined by my good friend Manes Ticketer. And then the other side of the soundproof glass, dressed to impress as always, that is our friend and producer Loell Berlante.

Now he's picked up this mantle from where Tristan left off of course, and today he's wearing a shirt with a crawfish on it. He's really stepping up his game to try to to to keep up with Tristan and and for some reason, the crawfish has one claw in the air and he's asking where you at? You know, it's why apostrophe a t. I'm not sure what that means, but that's what the shirt said, so I I do

think the crawfish is probably self explanatory. But that phrase where yet is actually something I was reading about this week. Apparently it's a pretty common greeting in New Orleans, kind of a how are you doing? Of the region. But one of the best things about the region has to

be the way the people talk. It's kind of this hodgepodge of different languages and dialects, and you can go into any given neighborhood and here half a dozen different accents and idioms depending on who you're talking to and where you are in the city. And then there's the pronunciation, like, according to the official New Orleans website quote, we say the street name Burgundy, not Burgundy, just because that's the

way it is. As for Calliope, say Calliope and you'll pass for a local, so they're giving all this advice on the site. Uh. But and you know this happens everywhere, right Like in Chicago people call Gothe Street and in uh in New York, Houston Street is called Houston But uh. You know what what's interesting about New Orleans is how so many little French idioms wound up kind of endearingly mistranslated. For instance, in New Orleans, they don't say I gotta

go grocery shopping. They say I gotta make groceries, which actually comes from the French expression for grocery shopping. It's uh fair la marche. I guess the verb fair can I either mean to do or to make, and you wouldn't include that in your translation normally unless you're in New Orleans. And another fun pull from the French language is land yap, which I guess basically means a little

something extra. So maybe you go out to eat and the waiter brings you a free dessert, or maybe the hotel you're staying at upgrades you to a riverfront view, and in either case you were given a land yap, which is an old New Orleans way to foster friendship. And and maybe some return business as well. Actually, no, since we're talking about the way French has woven into the language and the culture of the city, I do feel like we should talk a little bit about how

that influence got there in the very first place. So, as you mentioned upfront that New Orleans has a three hundred year history, and and that's true. The city was founded in seventeen eighteen by the French governor of Louisiana, a guy named Jean Baptiste Bienville, and it was named for the French head of state at the time, this was Philippe Day Orleans. But of course, and I'm sure I'm saying all of these words wrong, but that's what it says. But the reality is that the French settlers

were far from the first people to live there. So Native American communities called the place home at least six hundred years before Being Bill got there, and many of them are said to have lived right where the French quarters sits today. Yeah, it's funny that that word I mentioned a minute ago, which I probably also mispronounced land yap. It's technically considered Louisiana French, but it's actually barred from the Spanish language, which had taken it from Quechua, which

is spoken by Native South Americans. So I feel like that's exactly the kind of like dense cultural overlap that you find in almost every aspect of New Orleans. They're all these different ethnic groups that have called the city home over its long history, and every one of them left its mark in ways that you can still see today. That's right. And they don't call it the most haunted city in America for nothing, right, Yeah, that's not exactly

what I meant. But you know, after reading up on New Orleans history this week, I can definitely see how the city got such a spooky reputation. It sounds like it was a pretty rough place to live in during the colonial era. Yeah, you know, Benville and his men certainly had their work cut out for him, and and France had claimed that Louisiana territory in but then didn't do that much with it for at least a decade

or so. So you had the War of the Spanish Secession, which began just a couple of years after the French colony was established, and the fighting kept most of the country's resources tied up for I guess it was the next thirteen years or so, and so by the time the war finally ended, France's outpost in Louisiana were pretty much empty by that point. What was the mood like in France during all of this? Were they so cast strapped after the war that they couldn't fund their own colony?

I mean, they sort of were, Yeah, I mean, it turns out that thirteen years of war can be quite a drain on the old treasury. And you know, when you also lose that thirteen year war, it's even worse. That tends to drain the morale, of course, and that's exactly the problem France was facing back in seventeen fourteen.

And then, of course, to make matters worse, there was this stretch of bad weather that led to food shortages and it sent many of the rural residents They're scrambling to cities in order to try to find work, and as a result of this, Paris was flooded with desperate people, and of the country's capital city, it really became this kind of den of crime and poverty at the time. So it sounds like things are pretty dire in France. Uh. The Louisiana colony is kind of a Wash, So how

does the monarchy end up turning all of this around? Right? So the French king looked at everything going on and he realized a couple of things. For one, the colony in Louisiana could and should be making him more money than it was. After all, Spain was rolling in the dough thanks to its colonies in Mexico, so we thought,

why not France. But the biggest obstacle at that point was that barely anyone was left in the Louisiana colony, and very few people were lining up to live there, no matter how much gold or how much land they were promised. So second, he noticed that the prisons were getting pretty full at the time, and this was thanks to all the homeless citizens and petty criminals and some prostitutes that have been just rounded up there in Paris. And that's when the king hit upon what he hoped

would be the solution to both of his problems. He would just force the prisoners to go and settle the land in Louisiana. Yeah, which is kind of taking a page from England, right, Like, isn't that what they did in Australia? Yeah, but this was actually a good seventy years or so before, England had turned Australia into a prison colony, so if anything, they were the ones copying the French. So at any rate, this is ultimately how

New Orleans was founded. It was a punishment for prisoners, and so in January of seventeen nineteen, the King issued a royal policy to the effects, saying, we believe that we can do nothing better for the good of our state than to condemn convicts to the punishment of being transported to our colonies, which is not exactly a ringing

endorsement for Louisiana. No, I think they've changed the motto at this point, and the word had gotten around about how grueling it was to live in such an inhospitable region. It was surrounded by these swamps and these marshes that we sometimes think of with the region, and stories of the heat and the stench and the threat of all this disease. It, you know, it made it alan like this trip was a death sentence, and it sort of was, since most of the people sent there didn't live past

the age of forty. But it's not like these people had a choice in the matter. So they were forced onto ships and sent over a few hundred at a time, and it wasn't until months later that someone realized they had only been sending over male prisoners, which obviously wasn't the ideal way to establish a thriving colony. Yeah, but to be fair, like, no part of this sounds ideal. It isn't just not having women that it does not sound ideal in any way. But as bad as things were,

they only got worse from there. So pretty soon France started sending shiploads of orphans and female convicts to Louisiana, with many of them forced to marry male convicts in these mass wedding ceremonies. It sounds so weird, that's horrible. So how long did this force immigration go on for? Till seventeen twenty two, so about three years total. And meanwhile, the Louisiana governor, that Banville guy that we talked about before, is trying to key this experiment from flying completely off

the rails. But he's obviously having a tough time keeping a city of convicts and check and and he's not exactly thrilled about the kind of settlers that France is sending him. In fact, there's a good quote from his journals. That really shows how frustrating it was, even for those

at the top. So Bnville rights, it is most disagreeable for an officer in charge of a colony to have nothing more for its defense than a bunch of deserters, contrabands, salt dealers, and rogues who were always ready not only to desert you, but also to turn against you. Both Like having people who are ready to desert you and turned against you sounds pretty awful. But I'm guessing most of those people stayed right Well, yeah, they didn't really

have much of a choice. I mean, these were convicted criminals, they were broke, they were stranded the middle of a swamp and unknown country. It's hard to even imagine, so leaving wasn't a real option. So most people just tried to make the best of staying, and being a stranger

in a new world did have some advantages. For example, nobody knew their names there, which meant settlers were free to reinvent themselves and whatever way they wanted to, and some people made up complex family histories for themselves or added flourishes to their names to make themselves seem maybe higher class, I guess, And there was no way to

prove or disprove any of this. So these false personas just stuck and kind of became the new reality for these people, which is kind of strangely fitting when you think about some of the things that have gone on to characterize New Orleans. Right, Like, I was actually skimming

a book this week. It's called The Accidental City, Improving New Orleans, and there's one part where the author, who's a native, is talking about what a fresh start this experience was for so many settlers, and this is what he writes, quote, we were a city of impostors in a way. That's why Marty Graff fits so well with our identity. We could always put on new masks. That's pretty interesting. I actually hadn't really made that connection before.

All Right, Well, we're just scratching the surface of New Orleans long storied history, so I feel like we should take a quick break and then we'll jump right back in. You're listening to Part Time Genius, and we're talking about the chain of events that turned a French penal colony into one of the most amazing cities in America. All Right, Mango, So what's the next piece of New Orleans history? You

want to touch on. So we've talked a lot so far about the French influence on the city, but there's one part of the city they really can't claim credit for, and strangely enough, it's the French Quarter. So despite what the name suggests, most of the buildings in the famous neighborhood were actually influenced by Spanish architecture, not French. So you're saying that the French Quarter didn't exist when Binville

founded the city. It did, but it wasn't called that at the time, and it also looked a whole lot different. So as the city took shape under French rule, it gradually organized around the highest patch of dry land in the area, which was still only about ten to fifteen feet above sea level. But what I'd kind of forgotten was the sway that Spain had over New Orleans. So following the Revolutionary War, France actually gave the Louisiana territory to Spain, mostly as a way to keep England from

taking control of it. I mean, it's kind of a long story, but you can look up the Treaty of Fountain Blue if you're interested. But you know, Spain took possession of New Orleans in seventeen sixty two, and they held onto it for just under fifty years, and then in eighteen o one a different treaty placed Louisiana back under French rule until two years later when Napoleon sold the whole thing to the US as part of the

Louisiana Purchase. All Right, so you're saying New Orleans has changed hands a lot over the years, and it definitely tracks with the cultural mishmash, and you know that you kind of think about when you think of the characterization of the city. But what it doesn't do, Mango, is explain how the French quarter got so Spanish Like? Could we get to that part? Basically, nearly all of the original French colonial buildings in New Orleans were destroyed during

Spain's rule in the late eventeen hundreds. They weren't knocked down on purpose, though. Basically there were these two massive fires that laid waste to the city. And the first fire took place in and it actually might not have been that bad except that it happened to occur on Good Friday, and because of that, the city's priests wouldn't allow the church bells to be rung as fire alarms, which made it nearly impossible to organize, like, you know,

help during all the chaos. So the fire burned unchecked, and within five hours it had consumed eighty percent of the city. Good, Lauren, And you're saying the same thing happened just a few years later. Yeah, I mean, it didn't happen during Good Friday this time. But after six years of rebuilding, they had another fire and it was extinguished a little bit faster, but it still took out I guess two buildings. I don't know. It's still a terrible thing, but but not as bad as the first one. Yeah,

that's tough luck for Spain there. And it sounds like their entire reign in Louisiana was just fires and reconstruction. It was like burn, build and repeat. But you know, Span left a deep impression on New Orleans in the little time it took over. So after that second fire, the Spanish government started handing out loans for citizens to rebuild their houses. But the only catch was in order to get the money, you had to agree to build

according to the government's newly developed guidelines. And so this is really smart. The idea was to make the city a little more fireproof, including the switch to brick and plaster town homes instead of those wooden cottages. And uh, as you probably guess, this is when the French quarters started to look a little more Spanish, you know, even if the streets were still named for French royalty and nobility. And the transformation proved to be a real turning point

in New Orleans history. And that's something this author Lyle Saxon touches on in his book Fabulous New Orleans. As he puts it, quote, the city that fell before the flames was a congested French community of wooden houses, badly arranged and irregular. A stately Spanish city rose in instead. Large fan shaped windows looked down into courtyards which held banana trees and oleanders, and balconies railed with delicately wrought

iron overhung the streets. You know, it's interesting because I actually never really noticed how non French the French Quarter is. But when you break it all down, it's like, yeah, of course these are all Spanish architectural features, I guess. Yeah. And and and that Spanish style wasn't only limited to where people lived it. It also influenced how the city's dead were laid arrest, so when settlers first came to the region, they had a tough time getting there dead

to stay put. Because the water table in the area is so high, all the burial plots had to be dug shallow, otherwise the grave would fill with water and the coffin would just pop out of the ground. And they tried everything to keep the coffins in place right, like they would board these holes into the lids to make them less buoyant. It was a huge problem. They e didn't like, tried weighing down the lids with heavy stones.

But you know, if a rainstorm was bad enough in the area, which if you know the area, they have terrible rainstorms, the coffins would still float right out of the graves. So all of that changed during the Spanish period when the city's current system of these burial chambers was introduced. So you know, Orleans starts stacking their vaults and using these more ornate tombs and crypts for for

I guess, the wealthier families. But when taken all together, the new cemeteries kind of looked more like miniature cities, and they were complete with these like house like tombs

and almost like avenues or streets for pathways. And while it might seem a little micabre to have so many reminders of death and plain view like that, these so called cities of the Dead were so much better than you know, stepping outside in the storm and having to walk over your your late grandfather's coffin or whatever it

was floating down the streets, so so morbid. So these fire codes and graveyards, you know, they definitely improved under Spanish rain, but I mean, from everything I've read, the space and sanitation issues were still pretty major concerns, because you know, you've got to keep in mind, like the entire city was still pretty much confined to the French Quarter at that point, and everything beyond that was seen as uninhabitable, like swamp and marsh lands, and so to

make the land usable, the city would need to build these levees and canals and pumps to drain the water and the soil beneath all of that. And so that really took more than a century to get this system up and running properly. So in the meantime, all the residents of New Orleans just had to squeeze together on this only patch of upraised terrain that they had, yeah, which is all surrounded by a horrible swamp. Yeah, and

that later proved a problem in itself. So the city's poor sanitation and lack of running water proved to be this perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes, who quickly developed a taste for human blood. And so it wasn't long after that horrific yellow fever epidemic broke out in the city, claiming the lives of more than forty one residents. And this happened between eighteen seventeen and nineteen o five, So yeah, not a lot of love lost between those living in

New Orleans and the local wetlands in those days. And in fact, I came across this amazing quote that one observer made about the region. This was back in eighteen fifteen, and I sort of think it captures the spirit of what most residents would have thought of the place during

its first two centuries or so. So he says, the boiling Fountain of Death is one of the most dismal, low and hard places on which the light of sun ever shone, and yet they're under it lies the influence of a tropical heat belching up its poison and malaria, the dregs of the seven vials of wrath covered with a yellow, greenish scum. How bad is that? Yeah? It

makes me think Springbreak, New Orleans exactly. It does make you wonder, like, how did the Native Americans fashion lived there so long if the conditions were as bad as everyone makes it up to be. Yeah, I was wondering the same thing. But if you stop and think about it, their lifestyle was a little more flexible than that of the European colonists, so when the floods came, a tribe could simply move to higher ground or maybe build a

couple of dams to keep the village dry. And things got a little bit more complicated though, like when you start trying to establish a permanent city for tens of thousands of former prisoners. So life in the swamp was exceptionally hard for settlers, but that's largely because they were asking more of the region than anyone before them had, so the civilization they wanted it. It did come together a little by little, but it took a lot of time and a lot of trial and error just to

get there. All right, Well, now we have the history, but I feel like we should cover some more of the only in New Orleans things, So why don't we do that? For first a quick break? Welcome back to part time genius. All right, Mango, So before the break we talked about why New Orleans is a terrible place to be a grave digger. So I didn't know that before. It's water table is so high that above ground interment is really the only safe option. And you know, as

you might guess, that kind of concern extends beyond the cemetery. So, friends, things, you'd be hard pressed to find an underground basement in New Orleans for very much the same reason, like it would flood any time it rained. But again, just like with the above ground tombs, residents solve the dilemma by getting pretty creative. So in the early twentieth century, these

new raised basement houses started appearing throughout the city. So these homes consisted of these low ceiling basements built at ground level and a higher ceiling living space on top of those. So if you've ever seen a house in New Orleans with an unusually long staircase leading up to the front door, that's probably what's going on there. Like these stairs go straight to the second floor because the

first floor is actually just the basement. You know. It's neat to see all the different workarounds residents have come up with over the years, like that first floor basement set up. That works great for a private home, but it's a little less practical for a shop in the city, right, So customers need to be able to pop in easily without having to climb a steep set of stairs or

navigate through the store's basements. And that's why if you look up some of the older row homes in New Orleans, the ground floor is taken up by retail space and the basement is actually in the ceiling. Isn't that just an attic? Yeah, I mean it sounds like it the way I put it, but but actually that's not the case. So it's actually more like a crawl space between the

first floor and the second story. So you'd open a trapdoor in the floor, and rather than climbing up into the ceiling like you wouldn't addict, you'd actually like sneak down into the space between the store and your first floor of a home. And it's a pretty clever way to sneak some extra storage space into a rowhouse without having to go all the way up to an attic. Yeah, I guess that's true. So if you ask me, the real historical must have for your New Orleans home is

a floor level mirror. So apparently a lot of the plantation homes in and around the city at the time feature these long mirrors, and they were mounted flush with the floor, and and that was so that women could check the links of their dresses to make sure that their ankles weren't showing, because mago, if you if you know this, like, the ankle is the gateway to all

impure thoughts and deeds, I think. So it does seem strange that people actually freaked out about seeing an ankle in public, considering that, like the summers in New Orleans are so hot, it is tough to imagine like how unbearable that would be. In in addition to ankle coverings, folks in the region had another way to prevent scandals. They would use this architectural cork called the Romeo catcher.

So if you've ever spent time in the French Quarter or seeing pictures of it, you're likely familiar with the second and third floor balconies. They're called galleries. When you're in New Orleans, and these things line the historic streets when you go visit there, and along these balconies, you'll also see lots of ornate rod and cast iron railings, as well as some metal support columns connecting the balconies

to the streets below. Now, on some of these buildings, if you're near the top of the columns, you'll see what looks like a ring of spikes or barbed wire going all the way around the post. And on some houses, the spikes might like nails sticking out in all directions, while other houses might have spikes that look like coat hooks or thorns or something like that. But you know, in either case, the purpose of the spikes was the same. It was to deter these would be Romeos from climbing

up to Juliette's balcony late at night. And I'm guessing those still coming pretty handy during Mardigras, right, Like, if someone has too much to drink, they'd probably think twice about climbing that balcony once they see those spikes. Yeah, definitely.

And that's actually where this story takes a little bit of a dark turn, which seems like what we've been doing a lot of in this episode, But because the Romeo catchers weren't really meant to catch the late night boyfriends on the way up, the hope was that the side of the spikes would scare the boy off, but realistically, if he wanted to get around the spikes badly enough, it wouldn't be too much of a problem as long

as he was sober. The true danger of these spikes was on the way back down, because even if a suitor did make it up to the balcony, there was still a strong chance that the girl father would hear the commotion come charging in with a loaded shotgun, and at that point the boy would usually make for a break, you know, for the railing and trying to scramble down and this what's happening so quickly, and in his panic, the Romeo might forget about all the spikes, waiting to

snag whichever parts it might be able to. Uh, and you're saying these Romeo spikes are still there today though, Oh yeah, I mean they're all over the French Quarter and a lot of people never notice them though, So they're like these little remnants of the city's history, sort of hidden in plain side. Is something worth looking for when you're there, and it's funny. Before the show, I was thinking about the crowds on Bourbon Street and thinking

it's not a city for everyone. But the more we talk about it, it's really more the opposite, Like there's so many things going on in New Orleans, both culturally historically, that there really is something for everybody. Like you can look and do basically any aspect of the city and come away with some colorful bit of history that ties together these five different cultures from food to music to whatever.

There's actually so much I feel like we should do a follow up episode that's all joyful instead of just disaster stuff. But you know, it's true, it isn't the case with all American cities. Like that level of historical scope and kind of the variety that is in New Orleans is something we almost exclusively attribute to like cities in Europe, where like the old and newer kind of intermingled and and you can see the different phases of civilization all at once. You know, New Orleans is is

kind of an exception in that way in America. It's it's an American city that's been shaped by so many different hands over the years, and it's impossible to pin down if it's strictly Southern or French or Spanish or Haitian or Creole. It's like all of that all at once. Yeah, and I appreciate how innately weird the result of that mash up is, Like you read about those efforts to keep Portland's weird or keep Austin weird, which you're never really going to need a public campaign like that in

New Orleans, Like there's no other option. The city can't help but be itself. Yeah, well, I think that's a good place to leave things right now. But since we've been talking about the Crescent City, it's only fitting that we end by offering a little land yaff of our own. So why don't we do the fact off? All right? I'll start us off. So New Orleans is the birthplace of a few unexpected inventions, I think you'd say, And this includes the game of craps, the modern version of poker,

and randomly enough, dental floss. But one thing that New Orleans can't actually claim credit for is the Marty Gross Festival. And that's because, believe it or not, the oldest Fat Tuesday celebration in America dates back to seventeen oh three, and it took place not in New Orleans but in my own Mobile, Alabama. I guess I really can't say my own I'm from Birmingham, but you know it's it's

in Alabama. So the Gulf coast of Alabama saw its share of French explorers in the seventeen hundreds, just like Louisiana did, and the more free spirited among them started holding Marty Gross celebrations just like they had back home. So I've got another bit of fun New Orleans lingo for you. And the words are neutral ground, and that's the term the locals used for that grassy strip of brown do you find between two roads. We normally refer to them as medians, but in New Orleans they're called

neutral ground. And the term apparently dates back to the mid eighteen hundreds when there were these cultural and political tensions and it was kind of an all time high in the city. At that point. Things got so bad that New Orleans was actually split into separate municipalities. Like the French speaking Creoles and the supporters were on one side,

the Anglo English speaking populations were on the other. But the dividing line for these groups was Canal Street, which had a wide, grassy median running right down the middle, and residents kind of half jokingly started calling the media neutral ground, and before long the nickname was applied to all the medians in the city. All right, Well, speaking of ways to keep the peace in New Orleans, I have to tell you about the peacemakers sandwich, which is

basically the precursor to the city's famous Oh Boy. So according to newspaper reports from the late nineteenth century, the peacemaker, also known as the oyster loaf, was pretty much a French loaf stuffed with these hot fried oysters. But this wasn't a lunchtime staple like the po boy would eventually be, and instead, the peacemaker was a sandwich for a very

specific occasion. So as the name suggests, peacemakers were usually purchased by husbands as a way to preemptively smooth things over with their wives after coming home late from a bar or wherever else. And this was common and a pretty well known practice in New Orleans that was actually reported about in a San Francisco newspaper way back in But the description of how the whole exchange plays out is too good not to share, So I'm just gonna

read out this excerpt that I pulled from it. When the sandwich has been wrapped in paper, the buyer flees as a bird to his home. The little difficulty with the keyhole overcome, he steps into the awful presence undismayed. There she stands, grim as old yor but without an apologetic word. The airing one climbs slowly up the stair and holds forth the peace banker. She takes it, puts

down the lamp, and removes the cover. The deliciously flavored steam ascends like sweet incense until it reaches her rigid knockles, and then her features relaxed into something like a smile. When her lord is banging his shoes and depositing his hat carefully in the washbasin, she sits on one side of the bed, eating the spoils of domestic war. That is ridiculous. Is very ridiculous. I can't imagine working in

my house. But here's another food related fact. There's a legendary restaurant in New Orleans called Dukey Chase's Restaurant, and the long running executive chef there actually served as the inspiration for the Tiana character in The Princess and the Frog. So when the production team for that movie came to New Orleans on a research trip, they met with the chef at a restaurant and knew right away that she'd

be the basis for the main character. Now, the chef's name is not Tiana, it's Leah Chase, and after reading about her this week, she's kind of my new hero. She and her husband's restaurant served as a crucial gathering place during the civil rights movement in the sixties. Um In fact, MLK and the Freedom writers frequently met there

to discuss strategies in her upstairs meeting rooms. And we don't have time to go through her whole life, but it's a really lovely story about a woman who came from nothing and became this source of hope and pride for a community. She passed away in June this year, but right up until the end, she was still hard at work in the kitchen of Dukie Chase, doing what she loved most. You know, I don't feel like I can top the sweetness of that fact, So I think

I'm gonna go the strange path instead. Alright, So, during the nineteen seventies. Three of the first nine Super Bowls were played at Two Lane University and the stadium there. It was in New Orleans, and each of those games was attended by two ancient Egyptian mummies who had lived around nine hundred BC. So that is not where I expected sentence dayhand. But how did two ancient Egyptian mummies go to the Super Bowl? That's pretty easy, Maga. They took the Sarkafa bus. I don't know if you've ever

heard this one. I feel like that's a terrible joke you stole from yourself. Now I totally stole that joke. But here's the real fact. Two ancient Egyptian mummies were donated to Tulane University in eighteen fifty and so for the next hundred years they were passed from one museum exhibit to another until they ultimately made it back to the school's math department. I don't know why, but that's

where they ended up. Then in the nineteen fifties, the mummies were put in a storage room beneath the bleachers of Two Lane Stadium, and that's where they stayed until the mid seventies when the stadium was torn down. So According to an article in the Tulane University magazine Quote, the Mummies attended every two lane home game from nineteen fifty five until the last wave appearance in Tulane Stadium

in nineteen seventy four. They were presented all three Super Bowls and does of New Orleans Saints games waged on two lane turf, and they never once complained about their lousy seats. You know, I like that football loving mummies story, but I really love the peacemaker sandwich story, which I think earns you the victory of this dround. All. Well, thanks for that, and from Gabe, little Mango and me, thanks so much for listening. We'll be back soon with

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