When we were in college, a group of us would drive down to Phoenix from the Bay Area every year for spring training baseball games. Being college student poor, we would stay in a dive hotel near hooker row in downtown Phoenix called the Kon Tiki. “A slice of Waikiki right in the heart of Phoenix” the matchbooks and cocktail napkins proudly stated. What does that have to do with a bar on the fringe of the French Quarter? Enter the Port of Call and one finds “a slice of Waikiki right in the heart of New Orleans.”

The Port of Call is on the “other” side of the French Quarter on the Esplanade. Walk up a couple of steps and you find a bamboo ceiling and bamboo walls in this smoky den right out of 1950’s Honolulu. The signature drink is the “Monsoon,” the Port of Call’s answer to the Hurricane and just as lethal, served in plastic cups. Drink it fast or the plastic may melt in your hands.

There is always a wait for tables – on my last visit at 3:00 PM the wait was 45 minutes – but the large bar seems to turn dining patrons quickly. The small galley behind the bar produces tons of food from 11AM to 2 AM with naval-like execution. In fact, I don’t think I have ever seen someone just drink there without sampling something off of the menu.

The Port of Call is famous for their hamburgers and stuffed baked potato and both are large and flavorful. The potato is loaded with mushrooms, which makes for a very interesting combination.

Other menu items include the steak that is as popular and plentiful as the hamburger.

The Port of Call matchbook simply says “Fine Food. Unusual Décor.” No argument here. When docking on the East Side of the French Quarter the Port of Call is a must entry, worthy of the walk. It is the perfect diversion if the system can’t take anymore oysters or file gumbo and after all, it’s right in the heart of the Big Easy. – D.M.

POST KATRINA: The Port of Call is still sailing, serving great food and the wicked “Monsoon.”