Celebrating Julia Reed

CELEBRATING MY DEAR FRIEND: Julia Reed & Me

2/12/2025

-HIGH JINKS & HURRAHS -
The Search for a Desk...
BEHIND THE SCENES UNPUBLISHED PHOTOS
AND HER PROPOSED COOKBOOK TITLE....
NOT JULIA REED'S MORMON COOKBOOK
(WITH APOLOGIES TO THE MORMONS)
Written September 2020
My Stories as Presented by Lee Anne Garner

She celebrated
life
like no one
else
I’ve ever known.

❤️

The loss I feel
for
Julia Reed’s
passing
is enormous,
and
my heart
will be heavy
for some time.

Photo by Paul Costello
That’s my New Orleans courtyard on the front cover, part of a Gumbo Lunch Chapter shoot...except the 2nd cover was a re-shoot! See it farther below.

I’m also filled with an enormous sense of gratitude....Our time together was filled with lively conversations and exciting experiences - all boozy and delicious.
Julia Reed validated me and put me on the map. She wrote about me and recommended me to others. She liked my stories, and style. She liked my antiques and how I lived with them, my interest in early Louisiana furnishings, and my passion for art, cooking and entertaining, gardening and history.

It was heady stuff being her friend starting way back in the early 90's-ish. It must have been by 1994.

She introduced me to her incredible network of talented friends and I was featured in Vogue, Women’s Wear Daily, etc...and she helped me to reach a pinnacle.

There is no higher honor than being featured in the World of Interiors.

At Julia's behest, her then boyfriend Peter Woloszykski, took and sent photos of my Bourbon Street home to the legendary editor, Minn Hogg.

Minn Hogg then asked Julia to write the article.

The eight page spread also captured the magic of our relationship - photos at left from story. (April 1996 - see at end of this note.)

What great times we shared.

And it all happened in what seemed like an instant. We became dear friends. She walked into my antique store on Royal Street in the French Quarter. She fell in love with and bought some esoteric prints of bugs. After all, who buys pictures of bugs?
I did and she did!

Party Julia gave at her parents Greenville, MS home for British Vogue Editor Vicki & Frank Woods-Walker. At left: Kelly Tandy, Angèle Parlange, Mish Tworkowski, Julia, Vicki Woods, Julia's distant cousin Clarke, her father Clarke Reed, Frank Woods-Walker, and me.
I then realized that Julia lived nearby in one of my favorite Creole townhouses. She invited me there for a drink. I closed the shop right then and went right over, and the laughs and good times had been ceaseless.

Beyond her literary skills, Julia was a world-class tastemaker and had an extraordinary talent for bringing interesting people together.

New Orleans Pop-Up Shop Party (with Royalty!):
India Hicks, Julia and me.

She invited me to a book-signing party at her home for Sister Helen Prejean’s, Dead Man Walking.

You know you’re in good company when the lump crabmeat flows served in the biggest silver punch bowl you could imagine. I’d never seen before or after such an extravagant presentation of Crabmeat Maison!

Side note: A delightful essay
THE CRABMEAT CAUCUS
a celebratory cause indeed
Julia's Crabmeat obsession (Jon's word) was an outward "manifestation of the best, most important things of life—the things that elevate us and fill us not only with food but with affection and even purpose.... Jon Meacham

My New Orleans dining room and courtyard featured in Julia Reed's South, Photos by Paul CostelloAmong the most memorable of our high jinks and crazy forays is the story of Julia’s desire for a desk…this is also known as the time when Julia made a wrong turn and we ended up in a flooded ditch!

FINDING A DESK FOR JULIA
There was that time when....
Julia had just moved to another great apartment in a historic building just a few blocks from me on Bourbon Street. She mentioned the need for a table that could serve as her desk. I had such a thing in my family’s barn in Patoutville. So, we measured the space.

We were already close friends, as I don’t ordinarily lend a good piece of furniture.

It was a long Louisiana cypress refractory table of sentimental value from the Old St. Joseph Convent in Charenton where my grandmother went to school.

Julia's then apartment bldg. at left. She lived in the rear.

So on THAT day, we headed upriver to Metairie to pick up a rental van to make the Patoutville trek for the table. By the time we left the French Quarter and arrived at the rental place in a strip mall, the skies had opened up and a deluge of biblical proportions was underway (Julia often related incidents in a biblical manner - the hurricanes, mosquitoes, floods etc…….).

We were in Julia’s car at a stoplight and like a normal person, she took a right turn into what we thought was the entrance. It wasn’t.

The floodwater had filled the ditch and it was level with the road. Julia’s car plummeted at a 45 degree angle into the ditch.

For a split second, I thought we could drown. The water outside was at eye level and it was already seeping into the car. It was all surreal as I reached for the door handle. While it seemed like forever, it was probably just a few seconds that had passed. We sprung ourselves from the car and soaking wet, we climbed the ditch embankment. We were unscathed and looked around and immediately started laughing, and laughing!

Then to my dismay, I saw one of my favorite flip flops floating away down the ditch. A good pair of flip flops is a hard find. “Let it go!” Julia yelled. “Let it go!”

So dripping wet, we walked in to the car rental office and could see the young female attendant’s eyes peering over the tall counter which nearly obfuscated our view. It was like a defense wall separating us. She was in no hurry to help - on the phone and probably talking to her boyfriend.

And what Julia said next, I’ll never forget.
In fact, it was well worth the loss of the flip flops….the price for admission.
“Get off that fucking phone,” Julia roared. Julia didn’t suffer fools. This was a typical response you’d expect from her. In Julia’s hands profanity could be poetry. She had a talent for cussing.

We asked for a towing company, were handed the yellow pages and offered no further help. We called Rudy’s Wrecking Service, located near the French Quarter, which was convenient for us to get back home.

After we cleaned ourselves off from the ditchwater, we had a nice dinner: an upbeat moment, a victory over the flood of biblical proportions, surviving the day’s dilemma. This just happened to also coincide with the 25th anniversary of the Mary Jo Kopechne’s death with the Chappaquiddick incident… adding another profound layer to our misadventure to which we have toasted many times....

The photos - What we didn’t know was that some Icelandic tourists were handling their car rental. Fascinated by our dilemma, they took the accompanied photos and sent this nice note. “At last here are the photos I promised you" … It’s unbelievable that these people would follow through and send these photos. Julia and I were touched by their generosity!

THE FINAL IRONY ABOUT JULIA'S DESK....
was fitting...Laura Plantation gains a table for awhile
And the final irony of this story was that once we eventually got the refractory table from Patoutville into Julia’s apartment, the damn thing didn’t fit.
It just didn’t fit!
We are experts, and we measured, and we were wrong (notice I’m not saying I was wrong). Over a strong cocktail, we processed the situation.

First, I had a little nervous breakdown.
I didn’t want it to go back to the barn in Patoutville;
I had hoped to give it a new life.

Shortly after, I called my friends at Laura Plantation and offered it for them to use.

-----
Laura Plantation
was the first along River Road to incorporate enslaved people of color into their tour and went to great lengths to research and document the complete history. I highly recommend their tour experience.
----

They were ecstatic! It became part of a pantry display.
Sadly a few years later, part of Laura Plantation burned along with the table.
Thankfully the Marmillions were able to restore this fascinating Creole housed move forward with the tours of Laura Plantation.

SO MANY ADVENTURES ALONG THE WAY...

SILENCING JEFFREY STEINGARTEN
There was that time when....

Beyond cussing, Julia also had this incredible ability to stay any aggressor with her calm, gentille southern tone. She didn’t have to raise her voice.

He's a disciple of unaltered French cuisine...This is my attempt to say something nice about him...because I didn't like him and not even Julia's mom (the nicest person ever) liked him.

So When Vogue Food Critic Jeffrey Steingarten flunked an FY Julia's way, she looked up and said, “EXCUSE ME!” and she shut that asinine man down.

This happened over the course of a two-day Acadiana Boudin tour that was two days too long that I'd helped her to arrange. He enjoyed the boudin and cracklins and took a liking to the seafood & chicken pies from Victor's Cafeteria in New Iberia. It's my understanding that he still occasionally has them shipped up to NYC.

Overall, the trip mostly failed to impress him. Steingarten's disdain included my favorite French Bread from LeJeune’s Bakery in my hometown, Jeanerette, since

1884! It’s made in the Creole/Cajun style with a crisp exterior, light and airy center, and is sold warm from the 100 year-old oven.

Pro-tip: always buy 2 loaves as one might be eaten in the car.

William Guion's Evangeline Oak photo. I call your attention to his blog The 100 Oaks Project.
Steingarten also failed to appreciate the region’s ancient moss-covered live oaks questioning their real name until I trotted out the genus and species, Quercus virginiana, of these phenomenal trees which impress everyone. Indeed it was a beautiful moment when Julia silenced Jeffrey Steingarten.

ENTERPRISE SUGAR MILL
Julia loved visiting my family home in Patoutville and touring the Sugar Mill next door. She also roped in a few writers along the way to experience the
Bayou Teche country.

At Left:
Julia, Chief Sugar Mill Engineer Wilson LeBlanc, and me.

LITERARY SALONS AND OTHER SHENANIGANS

From her New Orleans Pop-Up & Literary Salon Party: Legendary ad man Peter Rogers (think what becomes a legend most - the iconic ad series and much more), Julia and me. On right: Paul Costello photographer extraordinaire, Julia and me. My dining room below.

from the Reed Smythe online store:
“DREGS”
BY PAUL COSTELLO
Photographer Paul Costello’s brilliant editorial and commercial work has taken him and his camera all over the world, but we are grateful that he and his family decided to settle in a fabulous house in New Orleans, where they have lived for almost a decade. Since then, Paul has shot three of Julia’s books...

He also has found time to turn his lens toward some gorgeous landscapes and still lives, which we are thrilled to offer here.

(See more of Paul's works)

Julia was always up for an adventure near or far (I once met up with her in Bath, England)! I loved having her near me in the French Quarter and was a trusted lieutenant for her many causes. My answer to her anytime she called was “anything you want.” I knew it would be a damn good time.

Each year, I enjoyed bringing new blood to the Delta Hot Tamale Festival in Greenville once she became involved. She attracted a slew of literary and culinary talent annually.

The concluding event - sandbar parties on the Mississippi River were indeed phenomenal experiences.

Believe photo above was 2018 Delta Hot Tamale Festival - from the Reed Smythe Pop-Up Shop.

ANOTHER COOKBOOK COMES TO LIFE
There was that time when...
THE FINAL HURRAH
An email from Julia
On Wednesday, September 19, 2018, 9:06:06 AM CDT, Julia Reed wrote:
Dearest Peter,
I see that you have your hands full in Natchez right about now. But can I ask an enormous favor?? The designers of the New Orleans cookbook I'm doing mocked up a great cover from our gumbo dinner shoot in your courtyard of me coming out of the back house holding two bottles of wine. The idiot who runs Rizzoli loves the image but says I can't be holding wine. I reminded him that the freaking book is called "Julia Reed's New Orleans" not "Julia Reed's Mormon Cookbook"... he is ... holding firm. So we have to stage the same table but now I have to be carrying a pot or something.
Love you love you. xxx

The final cover

Julia Reed's New Orleans:
Food, Fun, and Field Trips for Letting the Good Times Roll

All photos courtesy:
Paul Costello Photography

Photos from a Gumbo lunch chapter. Julia's classic Seafood Gumbo is below along with a Rum Pecan Pie. That's my kitchen stove and though it's something of a relic, countless memorable meals have been created in that galley-sized kitchen.

Most days begin with a strong cup of chicory coffee made in the French drip pot sitting there on the stove. Of course, they're sweetened with natural cane sugar from my family's mill in Patoutville and it makes me think of my heritage.

PATOUTVILLE SHINES
I particularly appreciate Julia's love for my family's South Louisiana home. And as she started thinking about her forays over the years with me in Cajun country (we've shared many great adventures!), she decided to include a chapter at my country house in Patoutville set amongst the sugar cane background.

She penned this sweet note to Patoutville:
There's no bad time to visit Patoutville, but it is especially beautiful in summer and early fall, when the sugarcane is wait-high in the fields. In late fall and winter, the trucks full of cut cane form miles-long lines at
the mill and there's twenty-four hours-a-day drama as great
clouds of smoke fill the sky.

ANCIENT OAKS AT BAYSIDE PLANTATION
My cousin's nearby Bayside Plantation was another destination in this chapter. As a realtor specializing in historic properties, I represented the sale of Bayside. Click the link above for more images and details.

SHE WAS A CHARMER!
There was that time when...
after giving her a tour of Bayside Plantation by it's owner Bobby Roane, the last in situ sugar planter in south Louisiana,
he told Julia
"If you play your cards right, all of this could be yours"...

Without missing a beat, Julia replied,
"The price is too high."
We all laughed.

There's been more than a few giggles over Julia's deft response to the 70+ year-old making a pass.
Bayside Photos by
Paul Costello

AIOLI DINNER:
The culmination of the South Louisiana photo shoot
was this fabulous meal celebrated with dear friends.

I love that Julia was inspired by Bayou Tech country artist George Rodrigue's Aioli Supper Club (at left) and chose to recreate that celebration in her book. It's based on old Creole Gourmet Society traditions ... another homage to the rich culture of South Louisiana.

Among the most cherished compliments
I've known, shared here from Julia:

She's first referring to George Rodrigue and her vision to recreate the Aioli Dinner from his famed painting:

"I think the artist would have approved of our gathering under the live oaks. He so respected the traditions of his ancestors, and Peter, with his antiques-filled houses and love of the land, honors the past and his own Louisiana history with more joie de vivre and élan than anyone I know."

Standing at left: Sara Ruffins Costello, Miles Guidry, Gregory DeKeyzer, Julia, Claiborne Davis, Angèle Parlange, Phillip Sterling, Janice DeKeyzer. Seated: Alex Darsey, me, and Stephen Stirling.

The aftermath! Following the photoshoot, the real Aioli Dinner at my Patoutville home. It was a splendid celebration!

Photo provided by Angèle Parlange
Most recently, Julia had taken to living near her parents in her beloved Greenville, where she built her dream delta home. It was far closer than New Orleans to Vanderbilt where she was getting her cancer treatments.

And while I knew (she had informed me that she was ill), she didn’t talk about it or look it for quite sometime. She was brave.

A 2019 Christmas note included many of the photos shared in this note. I'm so thankful for our memories especially for the baptism by ditchwater images!

While I was able to sip with Julia at the 2019 Hot Tamale Festival, it was in a larger setting which didn't allow for just us to visit.

THE FINAL NEWS
I was in Patoutville, when I noticed my phone lighting up with texts and calls from her inner circle of friends. I knew instantly what that meant and suppered sadly. Without asking, a dear friend made me a cocktail, one Julia would certainly have approved, with the Satsumacello from Patoutville satsumas that she loved.

The act of being graciously served softened the tremendous blow. Talking to friends helps too.

Through the sadness of her loss, I especially appreciate Julia's profound final two Garden & Gun columns.
Photo by Paul Costello

With precision, she examines the larger issues gripping our country, and I appreciate where Julia lands...distilling life to its essence.
From August, "We are in the midst of a national wake grieving for lives lost and dreams deferred." Julia reminds us of how cooking can help us heal in these difficult times.

And In her final effort, "You share a few tales of woe with your fellow men, and your own seem to fade. Cold gin, camaraderie—hope!—win the day."

Cheers to you Julia,
My dear friend, you are missed!

With much love,
Peter

P.S. I would be remiss not to include Jon Meacham's eloquent Garden & Gun and other special tributes, a bit more on Julia's final dream realized...and that World of Interiors feature she wrote summing up our beautiful friendship.

In Memoriam: Julia Evans Reed, 1960–2020A tribute to the long-time Garden & Gun columnist and contributing editor

By: Jon Meacham

Julia also realized her dream recently for an independent bookstore in her hometown Greenville, MS, fittingly called Brown Water Books. It's in the second oldest downtown building which she renovated.

Brown Water Books is a labor of love and builds upon the inspired home goods business Julia developed
with her equally precious friend
Keith Smythe Meacham.

REED SMYTHE & COMPANY
Collaborates with artists and artisans across the south and beyond to create beautiful, unexpected pieces for
house and garden...

Read about Brown Water Books

You might also appreciate these beautiful tributes

The New York Times:

5 Standout Recipes From Julia Reed, an Irreverent Voice of the South.
The journalist, who died last week at 59, mixed sophistication and down-home pleasures in her cooking.

By Kim Severson

Julia Reed, Chronicler of Politics, Food and the South, Dies at 59
In Ms. Reed’s writing for Newsweek, Vogue and other publications, her canvas included the follies of the powerful and the pleasures of Southern food.

By Penelope Green