#liquor photography in Louisiana

[kellysmith12]

Creating Beautiful Shots: Tips and Tricks for Liquor Photography in Louisiana

Liquor photography is a specialized field that requires attention to detail and creativity to capture the essence and beauty of the product. In Louisiana, where the beverage industry is thriving, there are various tips and tricks that can help photographers create stunning shots for liquor brands. Let's explore some of these techniques.

1. Lighting: Proper lighting plays a crucial role in liquor photography. Soft, diffused lighting works best to avoid harsh reflections and to bring out the rich colors of the drink. Using a lightbox or LED lighting can help create a professional setup.

2. Props and Background: Choose appropriate props and backgrounds that complement the liquor being photographed. For example, a rustic wooden table or a vintage bar setting can enhance the mood and overall appeal of the shot.

3. Composition: The composition of the shot is vital in creating an attractive image. Experiment with different angles, such as close-ups or overhead shots, to capture the unique features and details of the bottle or glass. Framing the shot with complementary elements can add visual interest and balance to the image.

4. Styling: Pay attention to the presentation of the liquor. Clean glasses, carefully positioned ice cubes, and garnishes can add an element of sophistication to the shot. Additionally, capturing the product being poured can evoke a sense of motion and liveliness.

5. Post-processing: After capturing the shot, use photo editing software to enhance the final image. Adjusting the color balance, sharpness, and brightness can help create a visually appealing image that accurately represents the product.

6. Creative Techniques: Experiment with creative techniques to bring out the unique qualities of the liquor. For example, capturing the drink in motion by using long exposure or photographing it against a vibrant backdrop can create a dynamic and eye-catching image.

In conclusion, liquor photography in Louisiana can be a stunning and creative endeavor that captures the essence of the drink production. By employing various tips and tricks such as proper lighting, composition, styling, and creativity in post-processing, photographers can create beautiful shots that highlight the charm and allure of liquor brands. Remember to let the product shine without overly promoting it and focus on creating visually appealing imagery that engages the viewers. 

[sfarticles]

A sweet celebration of ice cream July is National Ice Cream Month, so chill out

July is a month for a sweet celebration…it is National Ice Cream Month. This time of year, I find something inherently relaxing about a porch or deck, where you can chill out with friends, family, or on your own, and watch the world go by while sipping a cool drink, nibbling on delicious snacks, or enjoying a frozen treat such as ice cream or better yet, an ice cream sundae. Especially in summer, few things say fun like an ice cream sundae.

I feel like a kid in the ice cream shop wanting to try all the innovative newfangled flavors: French toast bacon, lavender coconut with black sesame seeds, Earl Grey tea with shortbread cookies, Black Forest licorice, “everything but the kitchen sink,” and even “Movie Time” — popcorn-flavored ice cream with sea salt caramel swirls and caramel truffles. Some don’t stray from the basic flavors like vanilla – the most popular flavor, chocolate, or strawberry.

Speaking of flavors, as I have done for several years, I asked my Facebook (@onthefoodscene) friends “What is the strangest ice cream flavor you have tried?” The responses are overwhelming and surprising: basil, black truffle, dill pickle, borscht, pimento cheese, egg and bacon, chocolate chipotle, avocado toast, and even GARLIC was mentioned several times.

The humble sundae has an interesting history. It is thought that the treat is a modification of the ice cream soda. The ice cream soda has a Philadelphia connection. In 1874 during the Franklin Institute’s semicentennial celebration, Robert McCay Green didn’t have enough ice for the drinks he was selling, so he used vanilla ice cream in place of the ice.

So where was the ice cream sundae invented and how did it get its name? Its history is like a thesis. My research mentioned several locations that claim to be the birthplace; Two Rivers, Wisconsin, Buffalo, New York, Evanston, Illinois, Ithaca, New York, Plainfield, Illinois, New York City, New Orleans, Louisiana, Cleveland, Ohio.

You might have thought why it is called a sundae, not a Monday or Tuesday. According to farmersalmanac.com, “Ice cream sundaes are the direct result of Blue Laws, which are religious laws in the U.S. that restrict activities that could be considered sinful. One example of such a law is the ban on the sale of liquor on Sundays. In the late 1800’s, there was another Blue Law that made it illegal to sell soda on Sunday. Some religious groups were against what they called ‘sucking sodas’ and felt this activity should be banned on the Sabbath. “Drug stores at that time were where ice cream sodas were sold, and the business owners didn’t want to lose the sales on Sunday due to the Blue Law. They replaced the soda with chocolate sauce, and everyone was happy. The spelling sundae…some believe it isn’t as offensive to religious people, others think the changing it from Sunday allows the dessert to be enjoyed any day of the week.

Another story as to how the name came about is the translation of “Sonntag,” the last name of Charles, the Plainfield, IL drugstore owner who claims he invented the sundae. Sonntag in German is Sunday.

The sky is the limit when it comes to toppings on a sundae. There are syrups and sauces, seasonal fruit, nuts, liqueurs, heated toppings, and of course, a maraschino cherry, or to really top it off, a flaming one. Two of my favorites are cherries jubilee and banana flambe.

This article from the New York Post bit.ly/440L9Kq lists the 20 Best Ice Cream Sundaes in America, #1 being Morgenstern’s Finest Ice Cream in NYC. Philadelphia’s, The Franklin Fountain, ranked #6.

You don’t need culinary training to make your own sundaes at home. Pick up a copy of “The Ice Cream Sundae Book: A Step-by-Step Guide to Making America’s Favorite Dessert” by Michael Turback with mouth-watering photography by Bonnie Matthews (2020, Skyhorse Publishing, $22.99). You’ll be inspired by the recipes for plain and fancy sundaes as well as how to make your own ice cream and toppings. Many of the recipes are followed by a bit of history, too. The author gives yet another perspective of its history. He writes, “Sundaes have been pleasuring our collective senses ever since 1892, when an enterprising soda fountain proprietor in Ithaca, New York, accessorized a scoop of ice cream with sweet syrup and a candied cherry, then named it after the day it was invented.”

Whatever the treat’s history is or isn’t…. enjoy these recipes from the book.

Vanilla Poached Eggs on Toast

The headnote says, “Back in the 1940s, a soda jerk by the name of Jean Gude invented the “Fried Egg Sundae,” served ever since at the fountain of Stoner Drug in Hamburg, Iowa. In its center is a scoop of cream-colored vanilla ice cream covered with marshmallow sauce, which could be construed to resemble the yolk of an easy-over egg, and it is ringed with chocolate syrup to suggest the browned edges of the white. “Vanilla Poached Eggs on Toast” was another mimic of the breakfast menu offered during the heyday of the soda fountain.

Sponge cake, sliced

1 scoop vanilla ice cream, softened

½ peach or apricot, pitted

Cut sponge cake to resemble slices of toast and spread a thin layer of the vanilla ice cream on top to resemble the white of an egg. Place half a peach or an apricot on top, round-side up, to resemble the yolk.

From The Pacific Drug Review (1920): “The finest concoc­tion loses its charm if indifferently served.”

According to Paul Dickson in The Great American Ice Cream Book (1972), “Lagging Depression-era sales prompted the industry to unveil a variety of bizarre ‘sales-stimulating’ ice cream combinations.

Uncle Sam Sundae

The headnote says, “One of St. Louis’s oldest and most popular attractions, Crown Candy Kitchen, was opened in 1913 by Harry Karandzieff and Pete Jugaloff, who brought their confectionary skills from Greece. During the early 1950s, Harry’s son George took over, determined to maintain sundae categories long since vanished from most American fountains: A sundae is ice cream and syrup; a “Newport” includes whipped cream and nuts; a ‘Deluxe’ adds more flavors of ice cream and/or syrups”.

2 scoops vanilla ice cream (store bought or recipe on page 6)

3 ounces crushed strawberries

3 ounces crushed pineapple

1 banana, sliced into wheels

Whipped cream (recipe provided on page 20)

Red, white & blue jimmies (sprinkles)

2 maraschino cherries

Dip 2 scoops of vanilla ice cream side by side in an oval dish. Cover 1 scoop with the crushed strawberries, the other scoop with the crushed pineapple. Surround the ice cream with banana slices. Top with whipped cream, sprinkle with jimmies, and garnish with cherries.

In Missouri, the ice cream sundae is pronounced “sun­duh.” According to the locals, “Sunday” is the day you go to church, and a “sunduh” is what you eat after you go to church.

Banana Split

The headnote says, “In 1904, David Strickler became the first to liberate the sundae from the straitjacket on a single scoop of ice cream with one topping. As a twenty-three-year-old clerk at the Tassell Pharmacy in downtown Latrobe, Pennsylvania, he framed three small sundaes with a tropical banana. The banana split’s popularity was assured when Charles Walgreen made it the feature dish at the fountains of his drugstore chain.”

1 scoop vanilla ice cream (store bought or recipe on page 6)

1 scoop chocolate ice cream (store bought or recipe on page 8)

1 scoop strawberry ice cream (store bought or recipe on page 9)

2 tablespoons crushed pineapple

3 ounces chocolate syrup (store bought or recipe on page 17)

2 tablespoons crushed strawberries

1 banana

Whipped cream (recipe on page 20)

Walnuts, chopped

3 maraschino cherries

Into a banana split dish, add scoops of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream. Cover vanilla ice cream with crushed pineapple, chocolate ice cream with the chocolate syrup, and strawberry ice cream with the crushed strawberries. With the peel on, split the banana in half lengthwise. Remove peel and place halves one on each side of the ice creams, with inside cut facing out. Top with whipped cream, sprinkle with chopped nuts, and garnish with cherries.

In hash-house Greek, the abbreviated speech of soda foun­tain employees, the banana split was either a “houseboat” or a “farmer’s lunch.”

In 1907, a restaurant owner from Wilmington, Ohio, thought he made the first banana split. Unaware of the ear­lier invention in Latrobe, Ernest Hazard also concocted an ice cream dessert which featured a split banana. Hazard’s effort is celebrated annually in Wilmington with a Banana Split Festival.

Recipes and photos Copyright © 2020 by Michael Turback. Photography © 2020 by Bonnie Matthews. Excerpted by permission of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.

Stephen Fries, is Professor Emeritus and former coordinator of the Hospitality Management Programs at Gateway Community College, in New Haven, CT. He has been a food and culinary travel columnist for the past 15 years and is co-founder of and host of “Worth Tasting,” a culinary walking tour of downtown New Haven, CT. He is a board member of the International Association of Culinary Professionals. Stephen@stephenfries.com For more, go to stephenfries.com.

[hyenabutter]

Hollywood, 2020

[thebicyclecraze]

Southern Maid, 2019

[sipsfromscripts]

(via Vieux Carré)

[quinnmb]

Hanging out with Tank and the Bangas at Tipitinas is the kind of scene that made me turn to music photography when I got to New Orleans 3 years ago. Here's a write up about them by Bob Boilen for WBUR news "Out of over 6,000 entries — more submissions than we've ever received — Tank And The Bangas won, unanimously, this year's Tiny Desk Contest. I fully expected their victory performance here at NPR headquarters in D.C. to be celebratory. I didn't know we'd all end up in tears. This band combines R&B with hip-hop's poetry and rollercoaster storytelling, with a flair and alchemy that could only come from New Orleans. Their winning song, "Quick," mixes liquor and revenge — a sort of modern day take on a great folk tale, but peppered with their own idiosyncratic flair and humor. What I couldn't see, until they took over my desk, was the depth of their lyricism and the versatility of their players. At one moment fun-filled funk, the next laid-back jazz, rhythm-driven blues — and it all flows seamlessly. And it's fun to watch: There's a magic kinship between Tarriona "Tank" Ball and Anjelika "Jelly" Joseph as they share singing roles, like two best friends finishing one another's sentences. This is the third year that NPR Music has put out a call in hopes of finding a shining star. I'm still amazed how, after sifting through thousands of videos from abundantly talented musicians, we can find a common winner amongst a range of judges with such different musical backgrounds. But in the end, my All Songs Considered co-host Robin Hilton, Trey Anastasio (Phish), Miguel, Anthony Hamilton, Ben Hopkins (PWR BTTM), BANKS, and folks who listen to an awful lot of music — NPR member station hosts Rita Houston (WFUV), Talia Schlanger (WXPN), Stas THEE Boss (KEXP) — and myself were all equally charmed, delighted and captivated. (at New Orleans, Louisiana)

[claraduffy]

Sunny and 45

A few weeks ago as long awaited spring break began, I found myself caravanning east with some friends. I was hoping for sunburns and headlong dives into waves. What actually awaited us was five days of a consistent 45 degrees and windy, scattered clouds. In high school, my photography teacher told me that light is everything—that light changes the way we behave and think in the moment, and even the way we remember things. Though we didn’t always have the warmth we were hoping for, that week we had the sun.

The caravan from Houston to Orange Beach passed as quickly as ten hours can, when you’re with friends. It was full of “firsts” for me. I’d never driven my own car across state lines, honking the horn, my passenger reading me facts about Louisiana (did you know in L.A .“The Pelican State,” it’s illegal to gargle in public places?) I’d never eaten gumbo under a bridge in Baton Rouge and then written my name on a dollar and stuck it to the wall. I’d never fallen asleep in the back seat of my own car, trusting a friend to drive. During our short jaunt through Mississippi, my dad called, and when I informed him of my whereabouts he retorted, “Better not to get out. Mississippi is a crap-hole.” I laughed, but doubted him. What did my dad know about Mississippi?  

That Sunday afternoon, I first saw Alabama from inside of the car, staring at palm trees contrasted against a deep blue sky. It reminded me of the Rio Grande Valley, which is my home base. Stepping out of the car, the wind bit harder than I’d expected. I was weary from driving and craving time alone to recharge, but my friends were loud, bubbling like shaken soda. We bumped into each other in the stairwell, lugging suitcases. Connor, who leased the house in his name, was trying to make sure everyone signed the contract on their way in. “Oh I’ll be right back! Just need to grab my money!” said a few as they dodged him. The boys claimed the master bedroom upstairs, which had a jacuzzi bathtub in it. However fancy their bathtub was, five of them slept on the floor, leaving the girls most of the smaller bedrooms; I suppose Alabama was bringing out the southern gentlemen in them. Still, there was an offbeat quality about those first hours. The beach was out of sight, the bike tires were flat (they never stayed full, though I toiled with a junky air pump each day), and my stomach felt swollen and with the sugary food of road trips. After unpacking, we separated: some to find the beach, some to the bike trail, and some to pick up pizza. I stayed behind to catch my breath.

I walked out to the dock and sat on a porch swing, shivering. “I sure wish the weather’d behave for y’all,” I heard a voice say behind me. And there was Shaun, the owner of the house, unloading his boat after a three day fishing trip. Shaun was middle aged and sunburned, with blondish grey hair and stark white boots. I kept glancing at the gloss of his boots, which were the kind of shoes that scream at you. “Yeah, me too. But it should be a good week.” I responded. Shaun went on to give me a ten minute monologue about the restaurants in Orange Beach, the spring breakers, the history, his own history, his fishing trip, the people he’s rented to lately, and so on. My eyes glazed over but he didn’t notice. A young woman came up and cut him off in the middle of a description of the type of fish you could catch off the dock. “This is a girl I picked up at a bar last week,” he grinned, referring to who I assumed was his girlfriend. She was not amused; neither was I. I learned to avoid Shaun, for fear of getting more information than I needed. Many weren’t so lucky; there flowed from his lips a never ending stream of cliches and pleasantries.

We spent the first afternoon driving to Gulf Shores. It was only 15 minutes away, but it was more about the driving than the destination. It was raining, and two of my roommates and I decided to escape the house, where everyone was drinking hot chocolate with coconut rum and half-watching a TV game show. We drove past charming beach town restaurants, which looked more like cheap tourist traps in the rain. Driving on and on and listening to sentimental music, I didn’t quite know what to say to Makayla and Brittany. I didn’t want to repeat the refrain of the group: It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow. I didn’t feel very light or silly, which is my normal. I was driving, though, and trying very hard to notice when they were tired of heading in no particular direction. I love inefficient driving, though I’m aware it annoys most people. We eventually pulled into a liquor store and tried to talk intelligently about how to buy wine, which first made everything sort of tense and then turned into giggling. We had no idea how to buy wine. Brittany bought us a bottle called “Cupcake,” anyway.

My cold beach vacation passed quickly. The sun came out and warmed us a few degrees, we found a volleyball court and a seafood restaurant and some better shows to watch. The boys wrestled upstairs and it shook the house and Shaun came over to check on us, which was mortifying. The house filled with sand and grime and people left books and empty bottles everywhere. I volunteered to be buried in the sand, thinking it would be warmer in there. We snuck into a hotel hot tub from the beach side, and met some girls from the University of Alabama, who taught us their fight song complete with expletives about Auburn. I had honest conversations with many of the people who ended up in my passenger seat. I heard the words “I bet it’s gonna be sunny tomorrow” countless times. Shaun, though a kind and good host, served as an entertaining villain, and predictably, the butt of our jokes. And through the biting cold shined the sun.

There’s something about living and growing on my own, being influenced by people and books and advertisements, walking and driving around by myself and wondering. I hope it is always like this, even when I’m much older and heavy with things I’ve done. I’m sure there’s also something about reaching middle age, like Shaun, and having most of your firsts behind you—settling into who you are, finally. But do I have to? Can I just stay this wispy, morphing, malleable creature that is age 20?

Something about the way freshman year played out—the girls I met, the group I stumbled into—rendered me overwhelmed with friendships, both the bantering kind and the real, painful kind. By junior year, I was spending a cold week in Alabama with the same people, many of whom I still don’t know well enough to be completely authentic. It wasn’t the ultimate spring break. It certainly wasn’t perfect, and I hope I see better vacations. But at the time, it was life to the full. It was messy and thrilling; awkward and honest; disappointing and surprising; sunny and freezing. One night, I fished off the dock for two hours with no luck, and watched the guy next to me catch seven Piggy Perch. Maybe he was catching the same damn fish every time. Maybe I just wasn’t doing it right. But somehow that’s what I love about being young and making mistakes; I don’t always catch a fish but I get to stand out here and try.

[hottytoddynews]

4 Rooftop Bars To Ascend This Season. Raise the roof, raise a glass!

The cocktail-thirsty crowd beginning to spill out onto the balcony at The Coop atop the Graduate hotel overlooking the Oxford Square. Photo by Danny Klimetz

This story was republished with permission of Delta Magazine.

Sunset sipping, Memphis style, just four floors up overlooking the magnificent river in Harbor Town. Photo by Jay Adkins

There’s something about a rooftop bar. Ever since the Tower of Babel, humans have been trying to get as close to the clouds as possible. Who can blame us? The views are spectacular and the thin air makes the sips of bourbon go that extra mile. Eating and imbibing on the roof is an unrestrained indulgence. It defies natural limitations the same way a screened porch mocks the plague of mosquitos on an August night in the Delta. A view from the top is something you should consider, and we know just the places.

Showstopping Sunset The Terrace at River Inn

Nestled among a canopy of oaks and cottonwoods, its panorama drifting west across the Mississippi River, resides Memphis’s hidden rooftop gem. The Terrace at the River Inn is a beautiful blend of atmosphere, scenery, food and drink. The River Inn, unlike its bigger sisters, The Peabody and The Madison, is a boutique hotel merely four stories tall in Harbor Town. Yet its size can fool you. The view is tremendous. Lazy northbound river traffic can hold your gaze and sunsets from your perch can make time stand still.

The Terrace was renovated in 2013 to include folding windows — a convertible restaurant if you will — so you can always drop in no matter the weather. Choose your vibe: flirty and energetic at the full bar, or relaxed and introspective at a table along the rail. Go for the rail.

The menu is simple, yet complete, with offerings from a classic filet or rack of lamb to smaller plates to share. Try the Mojo Shrimp, Gulf shrimp with a roasted red pepper sauce. The drink menu offers local beer, cocktails, and wine by the glass or bottle. 2012 Cakebread Cabernet Sauvignon, anyone? The Southern-inspired cocktail menu hits the right notes, from the ubiquitous Moscow Mule to a selection of refreshing martinis: pomegranate, French and appletini. Get there, with hungry friends, as the sun begins to slide beyond the horizon, order a Mississippi Sunset (vodka, triple sec, strawberry liquor,sweet and sour and lemon) and relax at the best little rooftop in Memphis.

– Jay Adkins The Terrace at River Inn, 50 Harbor Town Square, Memphis

Natural Retreat Green Roof Lounge

Photo by Danny Klimetz

Pork meatballs served tapas style with the bourbon and blueberry Oxford Blues cocktail. Photo by Jay Adkins

Five floors up, atop the brand new Marriott Hotel in Oxford, is a lush rooftop bar and restaurant, the Green Roof Lounge. This is no slab of tar with some wrought iron chairs. This is a metropolitan rooftop lounge with plush seating, strung Edison bulbs, parquet wood floors, and grounded greenery reminiscent of the High Line in New York City. Green Roof Lounge is proudly curious with their running hashtag: #howdoyousunset

Ole Miss college co-eds covening in the lush landscape at the Green Roof Lounge. Photo by Jay Adkins

They’re asking because they know the answer. If the spectacular sunset panorama is the reason you go, then the menu by Chef Cameron Bryant is why you should stay. Not merely “bar food,” this is exciting and delicious cuisine. The chilled cucumber and almond soup, topped with arbol chili oil and toasted almonds, is better than any restaurant gazpacho. I absolutely loved the cheese toast, grilled bread covered in fig preserves and warm goat cheese. The pork meatballs are delicious, drizzled with smoky tomato sauce and covered in salty shavings of Grana Padano cheese.

Mixologist Mason Payne concocting one of the Green Roof’s stellar cocktails.

Upon my next visit, I’m trying the Smoked Shrimp Roll and the Steamed Mussels. Their craft cocktail menu is equally adventurous. The Oxford Blues blends blueberry, bourbon, a little citrus, honey and bitters — a beautiful combination of deep bourbon and slightly acidic fruit. There’s also the Clint Eastwood, their take on an Old Fashioned with ancho chili bitters, a stellar example of the 2016’s summer of spicy cocktails. Rebel yellers will be storming the Green Roof Lounge this football season, for they can practically (almost) see Vaught Hemingway.

– John Fincher Bobo Green Roof Lounge at the Courtyard Mariott, 305 West Jackson Avenue, Oxford

Urban Oasis The Coop

A rooftop Rebel yell: HYDR tater tots!

Graduate Oxford has the original rooftop bar of the Velvet Ditch, and it has quickly become a classic venue for happy hours and late nights. This elevated watering hole is an indoor/outdoor experience that’s breezy in the summer and lamp-heated in the winter. A captivating birds-eye view of the historic Oxford courthouse is bolstered by cozy couches and lantern light, and the wrap around bar shows off its prime location. If the Green Roof Lounge is a tropical hideaway, The Coop is the urban hot spot to see who’s in town for the weekend — and maybe also to make an appearance. Not to mention the sweeping panorama of The Square, this is the ultimate people watching venue. If there’s work to be done and agendas to complete, start early in the afternoon with a cup of coffee and a snack downstairs at Cabin 82 cafe. When the clock strikes five, put down the uppers and go up for some downers. The Coop has a full arsenal of drinks and an elaborate assortment of bar food. The extremely satisfying Hell Yeah Damn Right Tots (HYDR, for short) are crispy tater tots that woke up one morning and decided to be nachos. They’ve also got sliders, tacos, and even Mississippi Delta-style tamales.

Photo by Danny Klimetz

Oxford folk will be storming the Green Roof Lounge and The Coop this football season. And even though Vaught Hemingway is technically out of view, the most faithful Rebel yellers will continue to look away, look away at dixie land below.

– John Fincher Bobo The Coop at Graduate Oxford, 400 North Lamar Boulevard, Oxford

Go with the Flow 10 South Rooftop Bar & Grill

Photo by Danny Klimetz

Mightily beckoning an awe-inspiring bird’s eye view of The River, 10 South serves up the city’s iconic scenery with elevated (ten stories up) Southern cuisine. It’s a local lunchtime hot spot that heats back up late afternoon when signature cocktails are served with a side of citrus-hued skies and a glowing panorama. The sky was the limit for Vicksburg restaurateur and chef Jay Parmegiani when he blew the roof off the culinary scene and built out this perch downtown.

The “fully-loaded” bloody. Photo by Melissa Townsend

Take in the breathtaking views over a bloody and meet the Civil War history buffs and tourists at the next table. Snap their pic and peruse the small plates: fresh-made guacamole that does not disappoint, hot wings tossed in the house Coca-Cola barbecue sauce — an homage to Vicksburg’s soda fountain history — and the bright and flavorful blackened “Yazoo City” catfish tacos, dressed with sugar cane slaw and cilantro-corn salsa. Lunch at 10 South features hearty sandwiches like the Monte Cristo slathered with preserves from the local farmers’ market, soups and Southern sides, plus fried chicken and waffles and gourmet burgers. In many ways, 10 South has the feel of a backyard barbecue with the family. As Chef Kevin Roberts puts it, “it’s just casual food.” Roberts is to thank for the tasty little seasoned pretzels on the table, and although he’s keeping his recipe a secret, here’s a tip: you can take home a box, mustard included!

Take the elevator up to the roof of the Trustmark Building for breezy views, bites and booze at 10 South Rooftop Bar & Grill. Photo by Melissa Townsend

Approaching this rooftop restaurant’s magical hour, catch a cool breeze over margaritas with that guac or sip a tropical libation like the Mississippi Sunset. There’s also a wine list and a beer selection with Mississippi craft beers to Abita hailing just across the river in Louisiana. What to order for dinner? That’s when steaks ignite the grill, the chef’s own choice being the Makers Mark whiskey-glazed ribeye. Somebody should save room for the signature mile high peanut butter pie, and go ahead and give in and order a bucket of chocolate-covered bacon for the table. This is Mississippi Delta-style hospitality: the pace is unhurried and no one is leaving without a gracious plenty.

– Melissa Townsend 10 South Rooftop Bar & Grill, 1301 Washington Street, 10th floor, Vicksburg

Scott Coopwood, publisher of Delta Magazine.

Delta Magazine is considered one of the most unique regional lifestyle publications, which some even call “the most southern magazine on earth.” The Mississippi Delta is known for its literary, musical and culinary heritage, as well as for its legendary entertaining style and social traditions. The bi-monthly Delta Magazine embodies every aspect of the Mississippi Delta with its fresh content, cutting-edge photography and devoted readership. Learn more by visiting deltamagazine.com.

For questions or comments, email hottytoddynews@gmail.com.

The post Delta Magazine On The Road: Where We’ve Been, Where To Go Next appeared first on HottyToddy.com.

[thebicyclecraze]

Sharon’s II, 2019

[thebicyclecraze]

70th Street, 2018

[thebicyclecraze]

Sharon’s, 2019

[thebicyclecraze]

Liquor Town, 2017

[thebicyclecraze]

Get, 2017

[thebicyclecraze]

18 Wheeler, 2017