Just like Billy Sunday in a shotgun ragtime band

This post title is a line from the Dead songRamble On, Rose with ab fab lyrics by Robert Hunter. Hunter was the unseen but very important member of that great combo. The post title is also a tribute to my friend Craig Giescke whose post titles atbeerfooddude are always quotes from song lyrics. Craig has been on my mind this week: he was an inkstained wretch for many moons but embarked upon a second career as a chef. His eatery J’anitas is one of my hangouts. They recently parted company with the Avenue Pub where Craig, Kim and their crew banged out wonderful food in what was essentially a kitchenette. It turned out that they weretoo successful for the pubbut have landed on their feet ina new location. If you come to New Orleans, drop me a note and I’ll take you to meet Craig and Kim and eat their amazingly soulful food. They’re even more awesome than their food and that’s way more awesome than Jude…

The other reason I have J’anita’s on the brain was that my Krewe du Vieux sub-krewe PAN had our theme meeting upstairs at the Avenue Pub. We came up with a corker: one that’s less esoteric than some of our past odes to folks like Lafcadio Hearn. This, however, is just a tease. I’m sworn to silence under pain of something or other. It could be torture by tuba, which is my least favorite instrument. I refuse to modify the last word with musical…

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