This Houston Fine Dining Restaurant Gave Me the Sophisticated Soul Food Experience I Needed

Living in Los Angeles, when I travel, I like to have something I can’t have aroundLA… Davis Street at Herman Park featuring Chef Holley gave me exactly that.

Sitting in Houston’s Hobby Airport before sunrise, my mouth is salivating as I scroll thru my camera roll, looking at pictures from last night’s visit to Davis St. Restaurant.

Unknowingly, my quick pass thru Houston was perfect timing to try one of Houston’s finest without breaking the bank, as Houston Restaurant Week is currently going on.

If you’re not familiar with what a restaurant week is (I know I wasn’t before moving to L.A.), it’s a city-wide event where higher end restaurants offer more affordable specialty menus, allowing customers to try food/places that they may have otherwise been deterred from by the upper-level price ranges.

Davis Street at Hermann Park’s special offer during Houston Restaurant Week is a 3-course fine dining experience for $55/person.

Some consumers complain that Restaurant Week menus are limited to the point where there’s “nothing good on ‘em.” That was not my experience at Davis St. Restaurant. Let me walk you thru!

Soups and Salads

First course dishes, field green salad and Boutte’s southern gumbo, at Davis Street Restaurant in the Hermann Park area of Houston, Texas. | photo: @aroundLAwithTK

Freshness was immediately evident with the first course, as I bit into my field green salad. Devil is in the details, I’ll tell ya; though you can’t even see the beets at first glance, that root vegetable, harvested summer thru late fall, adds a liveliness to the greens. Then the subtle sweetness of pears with the potent sweetness of pecans adds the perfect touch on top.

Against the will of Jessica, the Houston resident that dined with me this evening, I requested an additional spoon to taste her gumbo. Come on, I told you I want stuff I can’t get in L.A., and no matter how much they try, gumbo on the West Coast just ain’t Southern. I couldn’t resist dipping into her first course. A biased Creole girl from Louisiana, I can’t quite give ‘em the top spot, but their version of this famed seafood soup dish definitely earns the stamp of approval.

Cocktails

Toasting with a signature and a classic cocktail inside the formal dining area of Davis Street at Hermann Park featuring Chef Holley. | photo: @aroundLAwithTK

Though I came for the food, when Jessica said she was having an adult beverage, I couldn’t leave her to have one alone. She ordered, from their signature cocktail list, a mosaic mule. After contemplating whether to put their French-embossed-Davis-Street-Restaurant wine glasses to use, I ended up going with my old faithful: a French 75 with cognac instead of gin. Missing bubbles in the body led me to believe the bartender used a flat bottle of sparkling wine to make my drink, and it wasn’t topped with the typical citrus fruit garnish, but neither was a big enough offense for me to send it back. Both of our drinks had a good taste.

Entrees

Second course dishes, blackened gulf fish and grilled pork chops, at Davis Street Restaurant in Houston, Texas. | photo: @aroundLAwithTK

Ou, ou, ou! The main course, Lord, the main course.

Before my dinner fork could enter my mouth good, my tastebuds began to tingle. As I continued to chew, they got to dancing. By the time I swallowed each bite, they were full blown old-Black-lady-catching-the-Holy-Ghost-in-church. There wasn’t a single thing missing in that blackened gulf fish, not one, not one single spec! It couldn’t get better.

As I’m diving into mine, I look over at my dining partner for the evening making similar praises as she cuts into her grilled pork chop again and again. “Mmm! Mm! Na this right hea' is good,” she expressed. Knowing how good my dish is and seeing her express the same sentiment about hers, I had to try it. Y’all, I DON’T EVEN EAT PORKCHOPS!! Tell me why it slapped, y’all, SLAPPED! “Well, I’ll be,” I thought to myself. All my life, I’ve been pretty much a pescatarian, usually repulsed by the taste of meaty meats, and here I am, eyes bulging (in a good way) behind a porkchop.

Desserts

Third course, dessert! Down south coconut cake and velvety key lime cheesecake at Davis Street Restaurant in Houston, Texas. | photo: @aroundLAwithTK

After savory did what it did to me, there’s no way I could be further impressed, right?

Wrong.

I couldn’t believe when I delighted into the dessert at Davis St. how my sense of taste was further pleased. There are a number of fine dining restaurants I frequent in Los Angeles that have absolutely delectable savory dishes, but I can do without their desserts. If the food is good enough, I don’t need their sweets, I’ll still go back again. I don’t have to finish a restaurant dinner with dessert, but the way Davis St. Restaurant is doing things over at Hermann Park with Chef Holley, I’ll go back for dinner and won’t be able to resist getting dessert!

Now, Jessica has a chance to feel what I felt during the previous course. I extended my dessert plate to her and she told me how she has never liked coconut anything. She doesn’t like the taste of it. She doesn’t like the texture of it. She doesn’t like the look of it. Yeah, exactly what I said about porkchops. I insisted until she caved. She digs in with her fork. She skeptically brings the fork towards her mouth. …“OH! That’s a good cake.” Mm hm, I know so well.

Though she appreciates a true crust, she thoroughly enjoyed her velvety key lime cheesecake as well.

Service

Fine dining isn’t fine dining without fine dining service.

People come to me for a trusted viewpoint because they know I’m honest, even if it’s not exactly what they were hoping to hear. Unfortunately, I have to say, the Davis Street associate at the host stand when we arrived could’ve been more pleasant. You know how when you go to a place for the first time, your head can naturally take a swivel around the space as you’re walking in? Well, that’s what happened to me upon approaching the host stand after entering Davis Street’s doors.

When my eyes traveled from the wine wall on my right, they were met with a lady that glanced me over then averted her eyes. No greeting. Minding my manners as the Southern belle I am, I said hello with a smile anyway. I didn’t get one back. Jessica, who had walked in the door after me, stepped closer to the host stand and requested a table for 2. “You have a reservation?,” the hostess responded. Jessica said we didn’t and the hostess regurgitated that back to her, “you don’t?” Jessica repeated herself, “no.”

The hostess spun her head across the relatively empty dining area and after a pause said, “well, it should be okay… give me a moment to see if I can get a table cleaned.” That comment prompted Jessica to turn towards me and ask if I would mind sitting up at the bar, to which I responded that I was fine with either. The hostess, standing there during this then said she could take us over to a table, so we followed. She tucked us into a secluded-feeling area of the establishment, from where I could only stretch my neck to look over at the more lively high-top table area near the bar. The table would’ve been great for a romantic date with bae or meeting up with your sneaky link.

The more logical way, and better service, would’ve been for the hostess to offer us the bar area as soon as we said we didn’t have a reservation, especially when speaking as if she wasn’t sure if she could seat us at a table with a reservation.

I really didn’t mean for this section of my restaurant review on Davis St. to be this long, but I am HUGE on service. I’ll forgive a cockroach in my soup if service is superior. (Of course this is only an illustration to show how important service is to me; Davis St. was impeccably clean).

Maybe she was new, because I could see and hear her on the other side of the half wall extending from the booth Jessica was sitting on and I watched her offer the next pair of clearly non-romantic, same-sex guests the bar area when they said they didn’t have reservations. It could be because they were men, or it could be because Jessica gave her the idea: hey, maybe offer the bar area to patrons that didn’t reserve a table.

Moving along, everything else about the service after being seated was great. Our server, Elias, was very professional, and our butler was very attentive with a sweet demeanor.

Diversity in ownership and operation

Davis Street at Hermann Park featuring Chef Holley is a Black-owned fine dining establishment in Houston, Texas, boasting a diverse leadership team. | photo: @DavisStHouston Instagram

From the quality of the food to the ambiance and everything in between, I already give Chef Holley’s restaurant two thumbs up. Diversity across the leadership team and crew members is an added bonus. I’ll grow an extra one to give him a third thumbs up for that alone.

Black ownership and employment is vital to help work our way towards less wealth disparities of minority ethnic groups.

So you mean to tell me I get to have a fancy fine dining experience and I’m doing something good for the culture?! Let’s gooooo!

Davis Street at Hermann Park featuring Chef Holley is a must-stop while in Houston.

Davis Street Restaurant lives up to its tagline, “where Southern soul meets modern elegance.”

I’ve told you, but I don’t mind telling you again. The ingredients are fresh, the flavors are full, the setting is fancy. The only other word beginning with F that comes to mind now is, the F are you waiting on?

My dining partner, Jessica, originally didn’t even want to go. I had to keep nudging her over the course of the day and finally, in the waning hours of dinner time, she agreed to go (and still was trying to back out as she got ready to leave her house). By the time we finished dinner at Davis Street Restaurant, she was singing a different tune. “My goodness, I’m glad I came!”

If I were a gambling woman, I’d bet you won’t regret it either. Davis Street at Hermann Park is definitely worth a visit if you live in Houston or are visiting Houston, even outside of Houston Restaurant Week. I’ll scrape my coins together and be back to experience selections from Chef Holley’s full menu.

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A quick nod to Houston resident Erika, who runs the blog BlackGirlsWhoBrunch.com, where she talks about her foodie adventures across Houston. Her website is how I found out about Davis Street Restaurant.

(How did I know about Erika’s blog? Someone shared it with me!)

When you share, everybody involved benefits.

See how that works? My heart would fill with appreciation if you’d be willing to do the same for me. Share this post if you live in Houston. Share this post if you’ve ever been to Houston. Share this post if you’d ever like to visit Houston. Share this post if you have a beating heart that hears my pleas.

Tag me in a Tweet or InstaStory @aroundLAwithTK, if you decide to check out Chef Holley’s Davis Street Restaurant, so I can retweet and share YOU.

Thank you for being here, riders.

My Sexy Surprise Solo Stay at MIA

Can you believe my good-for-missing-a-flight-behind had the nerve to act appalled when I missed my most recent one?  I was really and truly UPSET!  I mean I went as far to tell the rebooking gate agent that I may have to stop flying American Airlines, as if it was American Airlines at fault for me not leaving my house in L.A. sooner.

Arriving to LAX too late to board my original flight to MIA meant that I'd miss my original connecting flight to the Caribbean.  I had to be completely rebooked.

B*tch, you got some nerve.

I had to check myself.  

Yes, my Uber driver was so busy trying to chop it up with me that he was driving slower than molasses; yes, I was given the run-around by American Airlines' check-in process; and yes, the customer service line was longer than a Christmas toy drive giveaway in the ghetto, but had I arrived at LAX earlier, none of that would've been detrimental.

I decided to drop the attitude and make the best out of the situation (I put myself in).

At this point, we're in the 8 o'clock hour of the morning and they didn't want to put me on a flight out of LAX until 10 o'clock at night because the next flight out of MIA to the specific Caribbean to which I'm traveling wasn't until the following morning. 

Instead of sitting in LAX all morning, noon and night, or going back to my place in L.A. only to come back to LAX, I figured I ought to keep moving forward.  

Get me on the next thing smoking to MIA!

The LAX American Airlines customer service agent told me they weren't giving me a voucher for anything because I should have arrived to LAX 4 hours prior to my flight.  (She was dragging it at this point, but whatever).  Her silk press was laid and I complimented her on it, which led to a mini convo about silk scarves and never not tying up your hair.

Bye, LAX.  I'll try my hand at MIA.

The last time I flew this same route back in December, there was a dilemma and I ended up talking the American Airlines associates into giving me vouchers for taxis, a night's stay in Miami, and food!

Related: TikTok Recap of Previous Caribbean Trip

Honey, they weren't going for it this time.

Now I was responsible to house and feed myself for a 1-night stay in Miami.  

This wasn't a part of the plan, but whatever, forget a delay; this vacation starts now!

What to do during a long overlay?

As I told you, I ended up having to stay an unexpected night in Miami as a result of my own choices.  However, this type of travel inconvenience happens often when it's completely out of the traveler's control.  

Sometimes flights get delayed after you've already arrived to your connecting city.  Or, sometimes you do choose it, by booking yourself on a flight route with a long overlay in a connecting city because it's a thousand dollars less expensive than the shorter flight options, when browsing thru Google flights.

Instead of being upset about a long, or unexpected overlay, make it a part of your trip.

I don't know about y'all's alma maters, but at thee University of Louisiana, we college students loved a good pre-game situation.

Thinking "this sucks" wasn't going to get me to the Caribbean any faster, so I rather look at it as a surprise addition to my trip.

Whoah, looka there, a surprise pre-game situation in Miami before my trip to the Caribbean!

Just because I'm using a party term I picked up in college, doesn't mean it has to include partying.  (Though, I did hit up a couple of people, juuuuuust in case shaking a tail feather was what was in the cards for my one-night stay in MIA.)

Myself and my peers have had the tendency to think vacation = go.  Go here, go there, do this, do that, go, go, go!  What I'm coming to learn is that it can be exactly the opposite, it can be: vacation = stop.  Stop what you're doing, stop what you're stressing about, sit still and simply be.

I stopped in Miami, and I did just that.. stop.

I didn't do a darn thing in Miami this time, and somehow this visit was better than the rest.  (Please don't get offended if we've traveled to Miami together; if it's any consolation, I didn't care for Miami when I came here for the first time on a solo trip either.)

Related: YouTube Vlog of My Very First Time in Miami (Solo Travel)

Sprawled across the large bed fitted with white linens, I stopped while I watched everyone else go.

During my during my day-long layover at MIA, I enjoyed a calm stay at EB Hotel Miami Airport.

The floor-to-ceiling windows of my top floor suite at EB Hotel Miami Airport looked out over a busy roadway and onto the American Airlines aircraft grounds. 

I rested with a peaceful smile as other humans zipped below, and above, off to wherever the Universe was deciding to take them.

I got sexy all for my damn self.

In this sophisticated chic suite all by my lonesome, I put on a black barely-there undergarment and twirled around in all my feminine essence.

Why?  ...Why tf not?

Under no form of intoxication, yet I felt intoxicated.

It felt good to appreciate this beautiful space by placing my beautiful body all over it.

(Yep, mm hm, I just called my own body beautiful, and I meant it.  Not something I usually do, but that's what a moment of appreciation will do to you.)

Before I go, let's get into this hotel suite.

When I entered my room at EB Hotel Miami Airport, I couldn't resist but be the damned millennial I am and whip out my phone, recording. 

Related: EB Hotel Miami Airport TikTok Tour

Opening a hotel "room" door and not seeing a bed immediately starts off the impression on the right foot.  Oh, this isn't a plain ol' four-wall situation?  Okaaaay.

The modern living area at the entrance of the suite featured a sectional couch that welcomes you to sprawl out across it in front of the flat screen tv, or sit up straight to get some work done at the desk with a spinning office chair. 

As you continue to walk into the space, you pass a wall of closet space, making it a great place to stay awhile; no need to live out of your suitcase here.  Then, with a swivel of the head over, some naughty thoughts are likely to arise when your eyes land upon floor-to-ceiling glass on both sides of the shower with spouts coming from every angle, right before a king-sized bed.

If you don't feel like putting on a show, or looking out onto the MIA American Airlines grounds, no worries, automatic controls bring a shade down on the bedroom-facing side of the shower.

On the opposite side of the huge bathroom mirror and counter space to the right of the spa-like shower, another glass wall separates the commode and bedet. 

The hair dryer wasn't my Dyson I have at home, but hey, it's there, and it dried my hair after one of the shower spouts caught me off guard, raining down from directly above my head.

Even though I had an early-morning flight, I woke up early enough to have time to brew myself a fresh coffee with the single-serve Keurig, then simply sit in the space, sipping, calmly enjoying the view before heading down to the hotel lobby to catch the complimentary airport shuttle.

Miami isn't one of my favorite places, but the way I enjoyed my very brief stay at EB Hotel Miami Airport, I'd revisit it... this time intentionally.

Sitting in the bedroom area, before a floor-to-ceiling window that looks out onto the American Airlines grounds of MIA, of a beautiful suite at EB Hotel Miami Airport.

(I told you that shower caught me off guard. You can tell which side of my head was hit by water [sigh]).

For more wanderlust, take a scroll thru my travel diary.

To get back to the Los Angeles content of this Los Angeles-based lifestyle blog, head over to the "while in Los Angeles" section where I offer personal suggestions of tried and true things to do in L.A.

Preparing for Palm Springs, a Quick Weekend Getaway From LA

Palm Springs is a desert region about 2 hours outside of Los Angeles. Wait, now that makes me think.. Who did they think they were fooling by putting a noun that relates to water in the name of that dry as ever area?! I don’t know, maybe I’ll see some springs while in Palm Springs, or find out why it’s called Palm Springs.

This is my first time going to Palm Springs.

Darn, look at me lying. A Halloween or so ago, the Bompton born-and-bred rapper, YG, threw a costume party out in the direction of Palm Springs. I’d have to look thru my iMessage history or Instagram archive to get the exact whereabouts, but it was basically in Palm Springs.

We met up at a house in (or near) Culver City, to board a party bus with two of YG’s special guests, the rather provocative Instagram personalities, the Clermont Twins. On the party bus to YG’s Halloween party in Palm Springs, accompanied by other popular racey girls on Instagram like Matte Brand owner Briana Wilson, we took shots and twerked.

We arrived to YG’s party location in Palm Springs on the bus, we into the party, partied, left and boarded the bus back to Los Angeles.

That’s why I almost forgot about my technical first time in Palm Springs. It was a blur. That doesn’t count, does it?

This time in Palm Springs will count.

Staying in Palm Springs for Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival

I’ve never been anywhere near Coachella, and that’s no exaggeration.

Even though I’ve lived in Los Angeles for 5 years now, I’ve never had enough interest in Coachella to make an effort to go. I’m an outlier, the average LA girl in her 20s is definitely interested in Coachella. And not only LA girls, but people from all over. Upwards of 200,000 people travel to Southern California for the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival.

I don’t know if it was the talk of the blistering heat, or musical lineups that didn’t appeal to me, but I never got into the hype of Coachella.

This year, it’s different. I’m hyped.

I’m staying at Morongo Casino Hotel and Resort for FREE!

Yep, my stay at Morongo Casino Hotel and Resort for Coachella weekend is complimentary.

In my last blog post on this personal lifestyle blog, I told you all that I’m getting into a different type of gig, and I am, I promise! But I also said that these bills have to get paid honey.

When I received an email about working a series of events for Coachella weekend, including travel pay, daily per diem for meals, and being put up in a hotel in Palm Springs for four days, I couldn’t turn it down.

Currently, I’m typing this in the travel diary section, because it’s technically travel, but I started to put it under the work section, then I noticed this travel diary hadn’t received love in a minute, so heeeey!

Okay, we’re getting out of the car at Morongo now, gotta go! I just wanted to throw a blog post up here now because between working and partying in Palm Springs, I don’t know if I’ll be hitting that daily blog post goal this weekend.

I was planning to go into planning for a Palm Springs weekend, but wind blew me a different way. Ah well. Here’s a new lip gloss I bought for my weekend getaway; hopefully it’s a lucky lip gloss that earns me wads of cash tips this weekend working Coachella.

For more aroundLA, check out personal suggestion in the blog’s while in Los Angeles section.

Home Brings Out the Best in Me.. That’s Travel →

As I went to book a last-minute flight home to Louisiana, a guy I'd recently started spending time with tried to convince me otherwise. He couldn’t fathom why I’d want to spend money traveling home again, especially since I’d been a few months ago for my alma mater’s homecoming.

A co-worker of mine, during my Beverly Hills luxury retail days, had shared a similar sentiment. I’d take off work and he’d say “where you going this time?” The times I’d tell him home to Louisiana, he’d tell me how I could’ve spent that 300 or whatever dollars on a flight to Cabo or somewhere.

“You can save that money for traveling.”

“There’s no place like South Louisiana” sign at SoLou restaurant in Baton Rouge, LA.

Visiting home isn’t traveling?

Okay, home is where you’re from, so yeah, you’ve been there before, but does it not being a new place mean you can’t have a new experience?

Every time I visit home, I get something new out of it, even if I’m going to the same ol’ places.

I refill. I recharge. I tap back into what bred Te’Keya Krystal into Te’Keya Krystal. (This — staying rooted, not getting lost in the hooplah — is very important while living in Los Angeles, navigating the superficiality that is Hollywood.)

This particular travel home to Louisiana, I actually went to quite a few places I’d never been. I saw my close girlfriend’s daughter, that’s like a niece to me, march in a Mardi Gras parade in Lafayette; I hadn’t been to one of her performances before. I had Sunday brunch at a new posh restaurant in Baton Rouge named SoLou, which is a mashup of the term South Louisiana. Then, I finally achieved my goal of catching the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club’s infamous parade that rolls every carnival season on Mardi Gras Day.

I’ve attended dozens of parades, many of which I was performing in, marching with an auxiliary group of my high school band. While in college, I was no stranger to hopping on I-10 East out of Lafayette to make my way to “the city” for that NOLA action. Zulu, however, rolls at 8 o’clock in the morning; I don’t recall ever making it to the parade route in the thick of New Orleans early enough to catch it. This time, a decade after high school, we did!

I caught my first coconut and I was too bucked up.

You won’t fully feel the coconut reference until you visit New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Hand painted coconuts are a signature “throw” from the floats of Zulu. When you attend the first parade on the culmination of Mardi Gras season, you’ll hear people screaming “throw me something, mister!” as they wave their hands for a coveted coconut. Me, I found favor in getting specific with ‘em.. I making eye contact and yelling, “COCONUUUUUUT!”

A road trip is really traveling

As I mentioned, Ms. Last Minute Lucy, that is me, waited until right before the last weekend of Mardi Gras season to book a flight home to Louisiana. Baby, I got to Google flights looking for a flight to New Orleans and Google flights told me, “I bet you won’t.” Hmph. You are got darn right I won’t. $800+?! No ma’am, no Sam, no butterbeans, no greens. Now that is where I draw the line on traveling home; I don’t want to spend over 500 dollars (of my money) on a flight unless I’m traveling abroad.

I booked a flight into Houston instead of into an airport in Louisiana and decided “we’re going on a trip on our favorite rocket ship.” And by rocket ship, I mean the black Lexus my girl Gabrielle from the 225 (Baton Rouge area) drives.

A considerable amount of Louisianians moved next door to Texas in adulthood, giving me homegirls and homeboys from high school and college where I can hitchhike a ride. For big Louisiana events, such as Bayou Classic, college homecomings, Essence Festival, and of course, Mardi Gras, a number of Louisiana natives residing in Texas drive home for the festivities, and my happy-go-lucky-behind isn’t afraid to ask if they’d like a road trip buddy. This is definitely a perk of being outgoing and friendly that has saved me some serious dollars.

My 6-day Travel From Los Angeles to New Orleans

We had a whole sequence of events on our road trip from Houston to New Orleans, with stops in Lafayette and Baton Rouge.

Friday

I flew from Los Angeles to Houston Friday.

Saturday

We hopped on the road to Louisiana Saturday morning. We spent the afternoon in Lafayette — catching a day time parade, having frozen adult beverages, then a mouth-watering crab cake burger (a “Krabby Patty” as Spongebob might call it) from Twins. We continued on Saturday evening to Baton Rouge, arriving at Gabrielle’s parents home and chatting it up with her super cute mom.

Sunday

Sunday afternoon, Taylor drove from Lafayette to do brunch with us in Baton Rouge, then we went to the Mall of Louisiana and visited my former manager at Dillard’s. After Taylor got back on the road to Lafayette, Gabrielle and I ended our evening by popping up on another one of our mutual girlfriends in the Baton Rouge area; and of course, we stopped for daiquiris along the way.

(Side note about the stop at Dillard’s… I only wanted to go to visit Marcy, a co-worker-turned-manager, but I ended up buying my first leather jacket and I felt like a rockstar! Ain’t no vegan leather either. What did Beyoncé say? I like expensive fabrics [sticks out tongue].)

Monday

Being an HR professional, Monday was a work-from-home day with Gabrielle’s two children (a Pomeranian and a Yorkie) running around our feet. Monday evening, Gabrielle’s childhood bestfriend, Minneapolis-based content creator and fellow corporate girl, Bria Black, came over to Gab’s parents’ home with daiquiris and we sat talking and laughing. Gabrielle and I then got on the road to New Orleans late Monday night.

Related: My Adventure Around Minneapolis with Minneapolis-based Content Creator Bria Black

Do you think because we got to New Orleans during the wee hours of Monday night (Tuesday morning) after already ripping-and-running the past few days and had plans to go to an 8am parade that we were going to go straight to bed? If you think so, think again.

at a local spot on the Westbank of New Orleans, Boomers Down the Hatch, very content after a serving of lemon pepper wings fresh out the grease at 3am

We made it to a friend of Gabrielle’s from high school, fixed a plate of food from their Mardi Gras Ball leftovers, took a shot and were up talking. I didn’t think Gabrielle had anymore drive left in her, so I told my cousin it wasn’t looking good for me seeing her, to which she responded, “girl, I’m coming get you!” (I love that energy.) I shared my location, and my cousin Raven was there in no time. Gab hopped in Raven’s car with us and we went to her baby daddy’s go-to late night spot, a humble hall named Boomers Down the Hatch. It’s a local, hole-in-the-wall type of vibe with generous pours and tasty bar food. Oh my heavens Lord, the chicken wings tasted like they were fried in butter; they were so crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside. Y’all don’t understand, I’m having a moment simply thinking about them. I didn’t even get a clip of them for my TikTok video because I was so gone.

Fat Tuesday

We got back to Gab’s high school friend’s AirBnB around 4 or 5am Tuesday morning and were being awakened around SEVEN to get ready to head to the parade route. By car, we got over to where Zulu would be passing and I was thinking, “the parade hasn’t even started.. you could’ve at least let us finish a sleep cycle,” but it’s good he didn’t because traffic became gridlocked shortly after we’d parked. We went by his cousin’s place, that sits a block or so over from the parade route, and had a homemade breakfast by some of their friends that had come over before the parade as well. We chilled and drank stovetop-prepared hot chocolate as they checked the parade tracker on their phones. When Zulu made its way down closer to us in the Treme District of New Orleans, we geared up and walked out to the route.

We danced in the middle of the street, we screamed and hollered, we caught shiny objects flying above our heads. We had a blast. And it’s true what they say, time flies when you’re having fun, because we looked up and we were looking at the final float of Zulu 2022.

dancing in the middle of the street is normal (almost required) behavior during Mardi Gras in New Orleans

We hopped on I-10 West out of New Orleans, stopped at LSU lakes to meet Gabrielle’s mom for Gab’s dogs that she'd babysat while we were in New Orleans, then made our way into Houston around midnight. We should’ve taken an immediate dive into bed, but my fat a** wanted to bake cookies. (Hey, Ash Wednesday is the beginning of Lent and I knew I’d be giving up processed sugars. I’ll tell y’all more about that in “while in Los Angeles > eat”.)

Ash Wednesday

I flew from Houston to Los Angeles.

I met new friends. I discovered new things about old friends. I had new experiences. I traveled.

It was money well spent, and I’d do it again. I will do it again.

For more from my travels both domestic and abroad, visit the travel diary home page here on aroundLAwithTK.com. (Yes, click the colored words.)

I’m always on-the-go, and sharing this information with you because you can too! Enter your email address below to join the blog’s mailing list; I’ll only slide into your inbox when it’s good good 💗

Adventure Awaits… Where You Wouldn’t Have Thought It

The question “what were you doing in Minnesota?” accompanied by a look of confusion is one I’ve gotten a few times since returning to L.A. last week.

In the tone of “why tf would you be there,” and I understand it.

Minnesota wasn’t quite on my short list.

Okay, let’s be honest, the North Star State wasn’t on my list at all. If you put a blank map of the United States in front of me, with only border lines and no words, I wouldn’t have been able to point to Minnesota. Wait, I’m saying wouldn’t have, as if I can now. Let me Google a blank map, try and see.

On a blank map of the United States, which states can you point out and name? Is Minnesota one?

Minnesota… Hm. Okay, I know Ohio because my grandfather lives there (and I once lived there with him); then on the top left corner of Ohio is Michigan (shaped like an oven mitt, is how I remember); then west of Michigan is Lake Michigan; then in the bottom left hand corner of Lake Michigan is Illinois. Chicago is in Illinois and Bria said she took a 6-hour drive up to Chicago… Hm, that messes my guess up because I was about to say it’s the one along the Canadian border that looks like a funny haircut shooting forward, but how can you drive up to Chicago, Illinois if your state is already the highest up (northernmost)? Yeah, see, I’m not sure where it is. Let's see.

map: exploreminnesota.com

Now you see, my guess was right! Ugh, Bria messed me up. It’s like when people in Long Beach tell someone in Los Angeles to come to them in Long Beach and they say, “man drive up here.” Nooooooo, I’m not driving up to Long Beach from Los Angeles, I can’t, it’s a drive down (south) to Long Beach. [growls] I don’t know why that grinds my gears.

Anyway, the point is that I wasn’t sure because if I were sure, it wouldn’t have mattered what anyone said.

Why you should travel to a place you’ve barely ever heard of

1. Everything is new (to you!)

2. It’ll improve your knowledge of geography.

3. You’ll get good quality time.

You’ve never heard of it, duh

That makes it new. New is fresh. New can be exciting. When you’re in a place you’re new to, everything is new to you.

Us millennials are in a generation that’s highly influenced by a wide range of others. We see what people are doing from Leimert Park to College Park. It's fine to gather ideas, try a restaurant you saw on TikTok, or go to a museum you read about on someone’s blog, but it’s also nice to discover something on your own every now and again.

Related: Guide to L.A.

It's okay to travel off the beaten path, to take the trip less traveled. You don’t have to have seen it on Instagram for it to be worthy of a try. Geotags at a location and mentions of a business are great, they really help us a whole bunch, but could an over-dependency on social media suggestions cause us to overlook something we could’ve very well liked? Could needing to see someone else do something first silence our own exploratory instinct?

I know we also want to go where other people are going and take pictures where other people are taking pictures because it’s trending, and that means when we post ours, we’ll get more traffic to our page. Aside from the algorithms, we also like posting stuff we’ve seen because we know it’s more likely others will readily recognize where we are.

Related: 50 Photo-Ops That Say You’re in Los Angeles

And this is fine. Go to the trending spots. Take the pictures that will go viral. (Shoot, I know y’all see my little tail trying, chile.) All I’m saying is don’t let that be all you do; don’t be afraid to try something new.

We Americans suck at geography

Traveling to the continent of Europe and the continent of Africa for my last birthday proved something I was already suspicious of… we aren’t the brightest, culturally.

We know the United States of America, and even then we still don’t know that much. We know our language. And that’s it. In the words of the Washington Post, “half of the world is bilingual. What’s our problem?”

We know a bit of what’s going on directly around us, a huge thanks in part to social media, but not much of what’s going on around the world. During my stay in the Sahara Dessert, a local that had never traveled away from home was able to tell me about the George Floyd situation! Plenty of others that asked me where I was from were familiar with both California and Louisiana (because I’d tell them I’m from Louisiana, but currently live in California).

If I stood on a busy sidewalk in Los Angeles and asked people where Morocco is, I bet you 75% wouldn’t know. Hm, maybe I’ll do that, record it and upload to YouTube for yalls’s entertainment.

It’s so cool knowing about other people and places, and being able to place it on your mental map is a great start.

Even with fellow American citizens, having knowledge of where something is can act as a conversation piece.

“I’m from St. Louis”

“That’s in the midwest, right? I don’t know much about that region, but oh my goodness, I adore Chicago.”

“You’ve been? I spent all my summers as a child in Chicago… I can eat Garrett’s Popcorn every day. Did you try some while you were there?”

“Girl, I did! I mentioned that to somebody else and they said Minneapolis does a better Chicago mix than Chicago, chile!”

“Whaaaaat? Lemme put that on my list for next time I’m back out midwest.”

photo: of @tee.krys taken by blogger Bria Black — at Candyland in Minneapolis, Minnesota with the “chicago mix” popcorn rumored to be better than Chicago’s

“T.K., I ain’t worried ‘bout none of whatchu talkin’ ‘bout.. geography ain’t neva did nothing for me but fulfill a credit I needed to graduate. And ion care ‘bout nobody else culture because I ain’t a people person no way”. Okay, fair enough. I have one more thing for you to consider though.

Is quality time a love language that speaks to you?

I had a girlfriend that realized (and was honest with herself) that she didn’t like the guy she was seeing. She said, “T.K., if we're not sitting courtside at Staples Center for an NBA game, or going for a day of pampering at the Beverly Wilshire, it’s not fun.” She enjoyed the experiences that came with spending time with him; she did not enjoy him.

Now plenty of these gold diggers in LA would hang on, and maybe even bear doing some things they don’t want to do, all to wring the unknowing man for all he’s worth, while she’s knows she has no intentions of ever liking the man how he likes her.. but this is the travel diary, not the aroundLA opinion column, so I digress…

When you visit a place that isn’t “on your list,” outside desires aren’t as much of a driving force during your trip. You don’t just have to, have to, have to get in this club, or get a picture at that location. If you go there, cool. If you don’t, cool. If you get a viral-worthy shot, awesome. If you don’t, it’s okay.

When you’re not pressed on doing this-that-and-the-other, you’re simply enjoying the person with whom you're traveling or have gone to visit. It’s less about the place, and more about the person. As opposed to being about the location or what you’re doing, it’s about who you’re doing it with. Whether a romantic interest or a comrade from back home, you’re getting to know one another better thru authentic quality time.

Bria and I pose with our deep-fried treats at the Minnesota State Fair in Minneapolis-St. Paul, MN

About the inspiration

This travel diary entry isn’t about how much a trip costs from Los Angeles to Minneapolis, or what food is a must-try at the Minnesota State Fair. It’s not about the trip. It’s what was dropped into my spirit this morning, as a result of this trip.. this trip to visit one of the most beautiful and brightest girls I have the blessing of calling a friend.

We laughed. We talked. We ate pounds of popcorn. We rode rides (and she cried). We smacked on crab legs as we debated on the latest gossip. We had a time well-spent.

Bria Williams Black enjoys sharing personal knowledge about natural hair, marriage and corporate life as a young, Black millennial woman. She is currently based in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Check out her latest upload to YouTube above.

I do hope you’re inspired. Get out there and go somewhere you had no interest in before… Adventure awaits!