If someone couldn't appreciate the intricacies of gumbo, and the spice and flavor and tradition of Nawlins cuisine in general, they were invited to fuck all the way off. Marie didn't have room for that negativity in her life. But she was glad to hear that Samson would come by. It'd be nice to see him wander in.
"Lagniappe," she said, pronouncing it lan-yap, that Cajun accent curling smoothly around the word. "Was their restaurant. But Katrina washed it away many years ago."
She traded her packed up dreamcatcher purchase for her empty tea mug. "Well, it was nice to meet you, mon cher. I hope I'll see you again soon."