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Is it worth the wait, you ask, eyeing the block-long line-up? They’re Gulf oysters, people, and this is the oldest oyster bar in the French Quarter. In other words, yes (unless you’re famished—then just go across the street to Felix’). The oysters are tastiest when you’re standing at the bar, talking tourist trash with the shucker, piling up shells to be tallied later, knocking back some oyster shooters (chilled vodka, cocktail sauce, erster, gullet). But if you sit at a checked-cloth-covered table, you can also order a dozen or two of the garlicky charbroiled oysters, which may change your life. There are po’ boys and other Creole standbys (jambalaya, gumbo, red beans and sausage), good enough for those who do not slurp oysters. It’s boisterous and there’s much waiter scurrying about, so things do move fast once you’re inside. No reservations.