re: TulaneLSU's Top 10 St. Charles Avenue signs, lakeside

Several riders were standing up yelling at the man. “Get the blankety blank out of here, you nasty blankety blank!” yelled a scruffy rider. That rider then started chastising me: “Do your job and get this blankety blank off the streetcar. Call the police if you have to!”

The angry rider then creeped toward the urinating sot. There was malice in his eyes and I felt a gust of hatred fill my otherwise irenic rectangle of love. I knew what must be done. I clutched my controller key and jumped from my seat. This was in the days when some physical contact was not considered assault, and I gently hugged the angry rider to restrain him from injuring the urinator.

“Here,” I said, “Take this.” I handed the humiliating alcoholic an all-day RTA pass and walked him to the door. He stumbled and I had to grab the only thing I could -- that pair of corduroy pants, fully ripping off an entire leg. I handed him the material, but he tossed it to the ground. He sputtered away, looking more like the Mummy from Monsters Squad than any living person I have ever seen.

I have hundreds, if not thousands of stories from the conductor’s seat. I remember Janice the violinist who would ride every Sunday evening with her Derazey violin. After noticing her a few times, I once asked if she would play a few songs while we breezed the avenue. From that ride onward, she would oblige me and the other passengers. My favorite tune she ever played was Bach's Pachelbel's Canon in D Major. Then there were the cheesemakers from Alabama who promised to show me how to make my own cheese. Oh, I could go on and on, but I have a list to which to get. My friends, I present TulaneLSU’s Top 10 St. Charles Ave. signs, lakeside:


10. Vincent’s



This location was previously Compagno’s Restaurant until 1997. Compagno’s goes all the way back to 1909 when its first location was at the corner of Washington Avenue and Laurel Street in what some call the Irish Channel. There was another Compagno’s at 800 South Carrollton in the 1940s through the 60s. Still another was at 5961 Magazine, where Reginelli’s is today. Uncle reminds me that his first date was at this restaurant. “It was a great and true Creole Italian restaurant with enormous and delicious serving of spaghetti and meatballs.”

The Compagno family has said that the 7839 St. Charles Avenue restaurant baring the family’s name opened in 1929. I cannot find solid evidence supporting this claim. Uncle was not alive then and Grandfather says his father never ate in Italian restaurants so he does not know. We do know that at some point long ago Dominick and Rose, parents to Sal and Maria, opened Compagno’s at this location. It was family run until 1997 when it became Vincent’s.

Like most good St. Charles Avenue restaurants, Vincent’s got its start in Metairie. Others to share in this pattern are Houston’s, Copeland’s, That’s Amore, and New Orleans Hamburger and Seafood. The first Vincent’s opened in the heart of real Metairie in 1989 by Vincent Catalanotto.

I say real Metairie because it is not pompous like the fake Uptowners of Old Metairie, nor is it shrimper gritty like Bucktown. It is real Metairie, exactly what one thinks when he thinks Metairie.

I think I have only been to the Metairie location once. This is mostly due to Impastato’s proximity. Uptowners aggressively defend their Vincent’s, which opened in 1997, going as far as insulting the superior Impastato’s, largely due to the incessant, unwavering neighborhood parochialism ingrained in both native sons and incoming daughters. It behooves no one to denigrate New Orleans’ best restaurant. Uptown’s sparsity of good Italian offerings does not make their neighborhood’s best offering the city’s best.

I digress. Perhaps the most memorable Vincent’s occasion came after Hurricane Katrina. Things were not well for the city. Our honorable food mayor, Tom Fitzmorris, was doing all he could to bring about cheer for the first post-Katrina Christmas. One of his brilliant ideas was to continue the tradition of having listeners call and sing their favorite Christmas carol. I did so, and sang in my loudest voice “The 12 Yats of Christmas.” It is not my favorite carol, but it was one I knew would get Tom’s attention. Tom was befuddled. I imagine his face while I sang was like Jim Cramer’s when Ryan from Louisiana called and gave a shoutout to his baws here. Tom said it was the best rendition of that song he had ever heard, and so he sent me a gift card to Vincent’s. Of course, I took Mother, who, by this time, had found a small place in her heart for Vincent’s.

What we see above is a classic neighborhood Italian restaurant sign. It harkens to its Metairie roots and its line under the name is more than a fancy underscore. It represents the way the River brought the first Italian immigrants to this city. It also is remarkably similar to the outline of a saxophone, one of our city’s chief instruments. The red, whit,e and green in the curve’s underside, form a sideway Italian flag in the heart of the city’s crescent. Vincent’s also has some Italian concrete statues and neon signs in front, but it is this classic plastic piece that pulls on the heartstrings of so many.