Mother Knows Best

Yesterday, Hotrod and I finally got around to eating at Mother's. I say finally because every time we've been here before we shied away from waiting in line. We are not patient people, what can I say? Well, we know now the wait would have been worth it. Mother's is pretty much an institution in New Orleans and for good reason: they feed you and they feed you well.

Here's our breakfast:That's a crawfish etouffe omelet (Hotrod's), a ham, cheese & mushroom omelet (mine) and a plate of the best freakin' biscuits to ever rise this side of the Mason-Dixon line. (Also notice the excessive helping of grits on each plate.) I love how Mother's doesn't bother with the little dish of individual butters and jams, no, at Mother's they just slap a healthy (hah!) portion of each right on the biscuit plate. Genius! Speaking of biscuits, those were so light and fluffy, I'm pretty sure ground up angel parts must be the secret ingredient.

I am both ashamed and proud to say I cleaned my plate and finished one biscuit. (I come from healthy Italian stock, so sue me.) Hotrod and I then proceeded to order a bread pudding to go. We had a few bites while in the restaurant to test the dessert for freshness (it was plenty fresh and plenty laden with a dark rum/butter/brown sugar sauce) then packed up our remaining biscuits and headed out into the day, as full as a person can be without internal injury.

Mother's is kind of cafeteria style: You go to the counter, order and pay. Then they call you when your order is up. You serve yourself and tipping is not allowed. I can see why the locals dig this joint.
If you get to New Orleans, don't miss Mother's. It's now on our list of Must Visits. This place is the bomb, old school style.