What is Lagniappe?

The professor is in.

If you aren't from Louisiana, at least the southern part of the state, then you may be confused by the term "lagniappe."  It's actually a term common along the Gulf Coast in territory that was once under Spanish dominion.  In New Orleans, lagniappe is a kind of art form, something that is taken seriously because providing lagniappe is the custom hereabouts and if New Orleanians are concerned about anything, it's tradition.  Here's the skinny on lagniappe:

It comes from an Andean Indian word, "yapa," which means "a little extra."  It arrived in New Orleans via Spanish overlords even though at the time, and for many, many years after Spanish government, the people who lived here spoke French.  The bastardized Spanish version of yapa is "la ñapa."  Make it francophone and you come up with lagniappe.  It's pronounced the way it's spelled, with a silent g and a silent e.

Cigar box museum.

We have a cigar box museum in our lobby.  The boxes are all from American cigar companies that are still in business.  There aren't many of them.  Most of the boxes are from old-timey machine made cigar factories that still remain in operation, as of this writing.  These are not the kind of cigars that you read about in Cigar Aficionado Magazine.  They're the kind of cigars I like to chew on when I putter around in the garden.  These are the kind of cigars your father's mechanic used to smoke.

The most popular question I've been asked recently is if I'm excited about the chance to buy Cuban cigars.  As Frau Schmitt, who knows me very well, will tell you, good things are wasted on me.  She is usually right about these things, except in the case of herself, of course.  

A cigar box museum is lagniappe.  Nobody expects it.  Nobody pays money to stay with us so that they can study my collection of cigar boxes.  (The second most popular question I'm asked about this: "Did you smoke all those cigars?"  My standard answer: "They didn't smoke themselves.")  If you are interested in something like this, then a chance to discuss these old fashioned machine made cigar brands is like finding a pomegranate Tootsie Pop under your pillow (another form of lagniappe).  If you aren't interested, then it's just more eye candy that makes passing through our lobby that much more interesting.

There is more than obscure cigar boxes in our lobby.  If you look above the highest shelf, you'll see the loving pheasants.

Loving pheasants.

I'm not going to tell you the story about the loving pheasants because there isn't room here, but let me tell you that they are also a form of lagniappe.  You're not going to find them anywhere else except out in the bayou country.  They're cajun, not creole.  I think our New Orleans B&B is the only one to have stuffed loving pheasants on the wall.  I'll be happy to be proven wrong if anyone knows of another.

Breakfast is not lagniappe, no matter what anyone tells you.  When you stay in a bed and breakfast, you should be expecting two things unless you're told otherwise at the time of reservation.  You pay for a bed and you pay for breakfast.  The bed isn't lagniappe and the breakfast isn't either.  Even if it's an over-the-top breakfast like we serve.  You're paying for that.

A partial view of our breakfast buffet.  There's more to it than this.

As a professional innkeeper, let me tell you that you don't pay for the lagniappe we provide.  We do.  That includes the complimentary beer, wine, juice, Big Shot soda, and praline in your suite's refrigerator.  They're complimentary.  It includes the local potato chips next to the coffee maker in your suite.  It includes all the little extras we provide that you don't ask for, that you don't expect, and that make you smile.  If I told you what they are here, they wouldn't be a surprise.  I'm not going to spoil the surprise.  

We also cover the taxes you incur by staying with us.  At a hotel, you pay 13% on top of the bill.  Here, the rate you pay is the price.  It's never more than that.  It is never less, either.  I had to add that last comment to be totally honest.  We are honest to a fault, if honesty can be considered a fault.  Not being nickel-and-dimed is another form of lagniappe.  Most people find it refreshing.  We don't charge extra for taxes.  

Tammie the Housekeeper

I was talking to Tammie the Housekeeper the other day about lagniappe.  She's a Cajun.  She paid the extra $5.00 to have it printed on her driver's license.  "You and Frau Schmitt give so much lagniappe, it's ridiculous," Tammie told me.  "You give more lagniappe than my cousin who lives in Terrebonne Parish, and she's a lagniappe queen."

I met Tammie the Housekeeper's cousin once.  She was in town for Zydeco Night at the Rock 'n' Bowl (every Thursday night).  

Muriel Hauptmann

That was one Thursday that nobody is ever going to forget anytime soon.  Every time Muriel Hauptmann's name is mentioned, Frau Schmitt says, "She was one hot ticket, that Muriel."  Frau Schmitt is usually right about these things.  Muriel turned out to be a real pistol packin' mama, if you know what I mean.



New Orleans is full of surprises.  Our inn is, too.  If you are looking for an interesting place to stay while you visit our fair city, we provide a link at the end of this post.  Click on it.  We only have five suites and they fill up early in advance.  It's a boutique operation.  You can call if you want to, but the online calendar on our website is accurate and the best way to make a reservation, unless you just want to chat a bit while I log onto our website to check what's available.  If you want to stay somewhere more generic, there's a Best Western on North Rampart Street, just outside the French Quarter.  I've never stayed there, but I don't think they offer the same lagniappe that we do.  Or that Muriel Hauptmann does, either, for that matter.

There's a statue of Clio across the street from us.  Of course, in New Orleans, her name is pronounced "kl-EYE-oh." The same way yapa is pronounced lagniappe, here.

À votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade bed and breakfast.