New Orleans' rebound goes way beyond the French Quarter

NEW ORLEANS—The Bywater is one of this city's hippest neighborhoods.

About a mile from the French Quarter along the natural levee of the Mississippi River, you'll find artist studios, a craft market, a guitar shop, a record store and late-night cafes. Young professionals, artists, musicians and photographers live side by side in shotgun houses and colorful cottages.

But don't compare it to New York City's Brooklyn, that hipster mecca of the East Coast.

"People keep calling it the Brooklyn of New Orleans, but that's not what it is," says Kevin Farrell, a 30-something Bywater restaurateur. "It's its own thing. It's a very unique, special place."

Unique it is. The Bywater and other up-and-coming neighborhoods outside of the French Quarter are a testament to the resilience of the Big Easy. Ten years after Hurricane Katrina demolished a large swath of this southern city, New Orleans has not only re-emerged but grown up. A thriving tech scene, entrepreneurial drive and affordable housing are attracting young people to neighborhoods that few would venture to a decade ago.

"What Katrina did was it allowed a group of invested young professionals to get acclimated to the city in a way that maybe wasn't available prior to Katrina," says Justin Shiels, the 29-year-old publisher of GoInvade.com, a culture magazine. "A lot of small businesses have opened that are unique and different from what you would expect to see before Katrina."

Entrepreneurs such as Sonali Fernando, 31, who moved to New Orleans in 2002, are opening restaurants with menus that go beyond the standard New Orleans fare of gumbo and jambalaya.

Oxalis, the restaurant she co-owns with chef Jonathan Lestingi, concentrates on gastropub fare. The food is meant to be paired with the extensive beverage options. "It's bar forward," Fernando says.

The menu is eight pages long, seven of which are beverages, including cocktails, spirits, beer, and wine. Whiskey is a specialty. The restaurant is known for its burger but half the menu is actually vegetarian.

The Bywater was a natural fit for Oxalis. Fernando, who was a "hurricane senior" at Loyola University, lived and spent years in the neighborhood as a student and an adult.

She even frequented Bywater Bar-b-que, the restaurant that used to be located in the building that now houses Oxalis.

"I felt really confident about being here," she says. "It was an opportunity to be in a place that I felt more a part of as a community."

She's seen the neighborhood change over the years. It has always been a place that attracted artists and creative types, she says. Now there is an influx of more people, especially in their 20s and 30s, moving from cities such as Chicago and New York. "It's changing a lot," she says.

Just a few blocks away is a new elevated pedestrian bridge over Crescent Park, which opened last year. The Piety Street Arch, or the "rusty rainbow" as locals call it, offers a glorious view of the mighty Mississippi and the French Quarter. I stand in reverential silence with musician CJ Smith while an artist sits on a step and sketches the scenery before us.

Smith, 25, moved from Minnesota to New Orleans last year. "The people, culture, energy and history, but above all, the music made me do it," he says.

One evening, I go by myself to Bacchanal, a wine shop, bar and eatery with a backyard patio that has bands playing most nights.

I order a glass of wine and throw down my credit card before realizing that there's a $10 minimum. "No worries," the clerk tells me when I don't reach that threshold which, coming from New York City, is something that hasn't happened in a long while.

I settle into a chair outside and sip my Portuguese vino verdhe while listening to the "gypsy jazz band outside," as the sign says. But this being New Orleans, I quickly make friends who want to party.

Sara Hoge, who is sitting at the neighboring table, is visiting New Orleans from Minneapolis to celebrate her 30th wedding anniversary with her husband Steve.

I buy them a round of drinks to celebrate their milestone.

"It's as idyllic as I thought it would be," she says of the city .

Just five miles away, mixologist Neal Bodenheimer, 38, is hoping Freret Street--or the "new" Freret Street—will be just as idyllic.

The uptown New Orleans neighborhood is located a few blocks from the campuses of Tulane and Loyola universities.

Bodenheimer opened Cure in 2009. A craft cocktail bar on a street where canned beer was the preferred beverage was quite a risky venture at that point.

A native of New Orleans, Bodenheimer had moved to New York and built a successful career as a mixologist.

After Katrina, he felt a responsibility to return to his hometown—especially to uptown New Orleans, where he had grown up.

"People were just trying to figure out what it was going to be," he says. "It was rough. It just needed an investment."

His investment has paid off. After Cure opened, other businesses followed, including Company Burger and Dat Dog, a hot dog joint.

"It's a great barometer of what's happening to the city and the health of the city, almost 10 years after Katrina," he says.

Bondenheimer's menu includes inventive drinks such as the Andalusia with sherry, cognac, rum and bitters and Fourth Man, with whiskey, a whole egg, cherry, and cream.

Music venues such as Gasa Gasa and Publiq House have opened nearby, drawing an eclectic crowd. After a drink at Cure, I pop into Gasa Gasa to listen to a band. As I sip a $4 beer near a knight in shining armor that is taller than I am, a man in a donkey mask walks in.

No one seems to think it odd. So I strike up a conversation with the costumed man, Dave Coll, who lives nearby.

"This street used to have nothing but a hardware store and auto-shop," he says. "This is NOLA, it's not like any other place."