New Orleans

      I am currently on a vacation, which has afforded me the time to write again after a long absence, though hopefully I will be able to more frequently with my new schedule.  I am in New Orleans, staying in the French Quarter with my sister.  She is here for a business meeting, though which leaves me to my own devices most of the day.  So after sleeping in as long as I could I hit the streets for breakfast.  I did not google any restaurants, or use tripadvisor nor yelp or urbanspoon:  I simply walked.  I wandered for about an hour pressing my head to darkened windows of restaurants only open for dinner, reading menus, watching for the crowded dining rooms that indicates some good grub.  Sometimes as I walked I would spot someone with the right look: the shoes, the pants, the walk, you can always tell-- another cook.  These people I would see and would wonder if they spotted me too.  I don't have my clogs on, but my arms carry the battle scars of many hot saute pans or forgotten food in the oven.  I stop a few of them- because these guys are the ones who know where the real good food is. 
      One of these such gentleman points me to the IHOP, because I'm obviously a tourist, and wouldn't know real food if it hit me in the face, but when I ask for a local place he points me to The Ruby Slipper- a cafe with some nice home town charm.  I had a corned beef hash benedict over a biscuit instead of an english muffin.  (sorry I didn't get a picture, I was hungry!)
      Day two of my trip started out much the same, though in a different section of town.  Aimless wondering took me all over the financial district and I saw several great places for lunch, but nothing that really jumped out at me for breakfast.  After about an hour and a half, about to give up and just wait another 45 min until the lunch places opened up the rain started. 
I found myself in a little alley/hallway to get out of the rain when I realized that there was a restaurant back there through a screen door at the end of that hallway "The best kept secret in New Orleans"  Hobnobbers was the locals hole in the wall place I had been looking for.  After a warm greeting from an older gentleman I was pointed to a counter behind which two older ladies were taking orders and cooking up a fabulous breakfast.  I just wanted something simple- the hash brown plate would do. When it's ready it comes out on a paper plate with a beautiful golden brown biscuit, delicious potatoes and a perfectly over easy egg.  It was lovely: Sitting at my little corner table listening to the day's gossip and the happenings of a town that's not home with a plate of delicious food and my book, avoiding the rain.