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Actual Liuzza’s moment: Crusty waitress hands customer a menu (“Here you go, Bay-bee”), then abruptly closes it. “Bay-bee,” she instructs, gesticulating with intent, “Numba One, or Numba Two—but definitely Numba One.” Naturally, the Number One special was ordered (a seafood lasagna, dripping with a white cream sauce) and promptly devoured, in all its enormity. If you’ve been wondering what Creole Italian is all about, come here. This is a true, humble neighborhood institution, and we’re pretty sure that the same regulars that were here before it took on 8 feet of Katrina waters are still going. So when the waitress talks, you betta listen. There’s nothing subtle about the hearty, saucy comfort food and po’ boys; it’s solid and rib-sticking. Do get a massive frosted mug of Abita Amber and the famous deep-fried dill pickles. “You people will batter and deep-fry anything that isn’t nailed down!,” said yet another astonished visitor. Good times. (And credit cards are now accepted.)