A Local’s Guide to New Orleans: What to Eat, Drink, See, and Do in the Crescent City

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Cities often impress visitors with their wide scale and grandeur: towering buildings, expansive parks, huge boulevards. New Orleans does none of this. In his 1875 book, The Great South, author Edward King noted of the St. Louis Cathedral, even then the city’s most iconic building, that with its mishmash of styles it was “a monument to bad taste.”

King did admit, however, “the city of New Orleans is fruitful in surprises.” And so it remains. The city impresses and astonishes, often doing so with its graceful detail, with its filigreed porches and buoyant colors and views down narrow, keyhole-like alleys that reveal intricate, ancient brick courtyards.

Indeed, New Orleans arguably does quiet intimacy better than any other metropolis. You’ll find it at Mahogany Jazz Hall and the Spotted Cat, where you sit all but knee-to-knee with jazz all-stars like Wendell Brunious or Meschiya Lake. Band members joke with those in the front row as if they’re with family.

You’ll find it walking neighborhood streets, where folks sitting on porches take it unkindly if you fail to return a hello with sufficient vigor. You’ll find it at so many of the restaurants, not only at bonsai-scale places like Saint-Germain or Guy’s Po-Boys, but also at imposing establishments such as Commander’s Palace, where you may find yourself directed to the bar by taking a shortcut through the kitchen. You know, like family.

Photo: CEDRIC ANGELES

City sights from the Vue Orleans Observation Deck.

Shortly after I moved to New Orleans nearly twenty years ago, I was invited to a Mardi Gras day get-together on a balcony on Royal Street in the French Quarter. The Society of St. Anne’s parade made its way down the street, a slow-moving deluge of color and cacophony. I shot a minute or two of video as it passed by. Only when I watched it later did I realize something remarkable: The street was packed from sidewalk to sidewalk, yet not a single spectator was watching the parade. Everyone was in the parade.

The same applies almost every Sunday (summers excepted) at second-line parades hosted by venerable social aid and pleasure clubs. These began in an era when African Americans couldn’t secure insurance from commercial firms, so they banded together to establish neighborhood groups, pooling dues to ensure no member went untreated if sick or unburied when they died. Clubs paraded behind a band through their neighborhoods each year, and these events continue today in districts often unvisited by tourists. Crowds follow along, and the parades swell as people roll out of their homes and join in along the way, dancing to the brass bands and catching up with neighbors for no reason other than to enjoy the day. You don’t watch the parade; you are the parade.

Cities might be best measured by the ratio between those who make culture and those who consume it. Yes, symphony halls and multiplexes are marks of a city that enjoys its culture. But New Orleans skews more heavily toward creating than consuming. Residents craft costumes to wear at the slightest excuse; they festoon their homes for Mardi Gras and just about any other holiday of note; they form impromptu marching bands and dance troupes. Krewe of Red Beans members spend weeks constructing wearable mosaics of red, black, and white beans, parading on Lundi Gras to celebrate the city’s favorite legume. Black Masking Indians—who can trace their heritage back more than a century—don their extravagant feathered and beaded suits on Mardi Gras day. But they have hardly put them away when they begin to design and stitch new suits for the following year, painstakingly sewing tiny beads to depict events historic, recent, and fantastical. When they take to the streets, it’s a raucous, roving gallery of remarkable art.

New Orleanians are also adept at crafting entirely new holidays, often for no other reason than to enjoy the company of friends both old and new. Festivals celebrate po’boys, beignets, zydeco, and gumbo. The annual San Fermin in Nueva Orleans lures out hundreds of folks wearing white outfits accented with red sashes and kerchiefs (à la Pamplona), and they roll through the French Quarter pursued by Roller Derby women wearing horned helmets and wielding plastic bats. When a large section of a downtown street collapsed in the spring of 2016, leaving a gaping chasm, New Orleans was ready. “Sinkhole de Mayo” was declared, and hundreds gathered nearby for margaritas.

Subtlety may define the city’s built environment—there’s no Eiffel Tower, no Space Needle, no Empire State Building—but spectacle happens. When it does, it invariably involves great masses of people. From Mardi Gras to Jazz Fest to the annual Sugar Bowl marking the New Year, vast hordes fill the streets with color and noise. The cityscape shifts: It becomes about the spaces between the buildings, the city as backdrop. And somehow, the narrow streets and antiquated, low-slung structures of New Orleans accommodate large-scale crowds amazingly well.

That’s abundantly clear during the Super Bowl, which the city hosts this year on February 9—just when Carnival season moves from canter to gallop. (It’s the eleventh Super Bowl held in New Orleans, which ties Miami for most times hosting the event.) The tribal colors of opposing jerseys flow up Bourbon Street and down its adjoining tributaries, and the locals welcome everyone. (Unless the Atlanta Falcons are playing, but that’s another story.)

Wittingly or not, visitors become a vital part of city life, not observers but participants. That shouldn’t be a surprise. New Orleans has a long tradition of call and response, originating with the African American community’s early church services and running to the rise of New Orleans bounce. The most expert local musicians play their audience like a well-tuned instrument. From the Superdome to the smallest nightclubs, you hear, “Everybody scream!” And everybody screams.

Late this summer marks another event, more somber than most: the twentieth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, which hit New Orleans on August 29, 2005, and overwhelmed the city’s deeply inadequate federal flood protections. Levees failed, waters rose, entire neighborhoods were decimated, and nearly fourteen hundred people died.

Yet New Orleans rebuilt, and learned a number of lessons in so doing. That a city is only as resilient as its people. That it’s not recommended to depend wholly on outside help. That the Saints are there when you need them.

But the foremost lesson may be that the single most essential requirement for a city is to create one that’s worth rebuilding. A city that has a culture and community and history that can’t be replicated elsewhere. A city that’s defined by exquisite details and joyful frenzy. A city that’s worth saving and celebrating.

See & Do

Vue Orleans Observation Deck

New Orleans can be vexing—history, geography, culinary traditions, and various subcultures all conspire to confuse you. Get grounded by first stopping at the Vue Orleans Observation Deck, thirty-four stories above the city and right on the Mississippi River. You’ll see plainly how the river shapes the city (and vice versa) and learn about what makes this place the way it is in a series of interactive cultural exhibits.

Frenchmen Street

The Frenchmen Street music district may be home to more brass instruments per block than any other spot on earth. A nearly countless number of clubs spill out tunes both traditional and un-. The Spotted Cat, Snug Harbor, and d.b.a. are the best known for showcasing the music that made New Orleans famous, but you’ll find plenty of other places within a short stroll, with brass bands often at Blue Nile, and an eclectic mix of jazz and rock at Cafe Negril. Leave time to walk the nighttime Frenchmen Art Bazaar, and to linger to listen to the high-energy street bands all around.

Backstreet Cultural Museum

New Orleans has a vibrant street culture that’s best found on, well, the street—especially on Sundays during the second-line parades. But you’ll find context for all this joyous noise indoors, at the Backstreet Cultural Museum in the historic Tremé neighborhood. Collections include extravagant suits worn by Mardi Gras Indians and social club members, and exhibits cover jazz funerals and more. Sign up for a Sunday second-line tour when in season.

Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden

The Besthoff Sculpture Garden is the “secret” spot of so many New Orleanians that it’s not much of a secret anymore. Located in a lovingly landscaped twelve-acre minipark, with live oaks and two lagoons, it’s part of the New Orleans Museum of Art’s campus in City Park. The collection of a hundred works of art ranges from the thought-provoking (Elyn Zimmerman’s Mississippi Meanders) to the slyly witty (Do-Ho Suh’s Karma).

Historic New Orleans Collection

You needn’t be a history buff to enjoy an hour at the Historic New Orleans Collection. Occupying the French Quarter’s grand Seignouret-Brulatour House (built in 1816), this free museum houses more than a million treasures old and new, including a rare second edition of John James Audubon’s The Birds of America, and beginning in March, a collection of the contemporary photographer Ben Depp’s aerial shots of the disappearing Louisiana coastline. Walk through exhibitions on the French Quarter and the rise of Creole culture, then use the engaging interactive map to locate yourself in both time and place.

West London Boutique

Mariah Walton Bencik opened her clothing shop eight years ago in a simple cottage on Magazine Street emboldened with a Classical Revival facade. The exterior neatly mirrors the bold yet approachable styles she offers inside, many from emerging talents such as Aleksander Revas and Simona Bonacci. Clients clamor for her suggestions on mixing color and patterns—Netflix’s Queer Eye even featured her styles. Bencik recently expanded to include a sister boutique in the Garden District called Le Marais, featuring French looks from the likes of Maison Close and Catherine Osti.

M.S. Rau

Since 1912, M.S. Rau has showcased some of the finest artwork and antiques in the country. Equally appealing to collectors and the merely curious, the gallery has exquisitely crafted American and European furniture and the occasional piece that’s been witness to historic events—like Napoleon’s desk and the opera glasses used by Abraham Lincoln the night he was assassinated.

Stay

Photo: CEDRIC ANGELES

Suite Madeline at the Celestine hotel.

The Celestine

Despite lying just a half block from boisterous Bourbon Street, this ten-room boutique hotel is surprisingly serene, with a peaceful courtyard (shared with the downstairs Peychaud’s bar), steeped in the city’s history (Tennessee Williams allegedly penned A Streetcar Named Desire there). Beautiful rooms in the 1791 building come lavishly furnished with four-poster beds and other well-selected antiques, making this a welcome respite from the hubbub.

Hotel Peter & Paul

Hotel Peter & Paul is far more relaxed and intimate than its seventy-one rooms might suggest. Located in a nineteenth-century church complex in the Marigny neighborhood, the boutique spot infuses a bohemian vibe into its elegant setting with design touches like chic gingham fabric and colorful painted furniture. Sipping a predinner Il Sorpasso (gin, Campari, and orange bitters) at the wonderful Elysian Bar in the former rectory is like having cocktails with friends. The hotel makes for a stellar base for exploring—and is just a ten-minute walk from Frenchmen Street’s jazz clubs.

Four Seasons

When the Four Seasons opened in 2021, it instantly drew visitors eager to be pampered with plush suites, a luxe spa, and a crescent-shaped rooftop pool. It also boasts two restaurants with James Beard Award–winning chefs at the helm. (At Chemin à la Mer, hoist a toast with the Julia Reed Cocktail, a scotch old-fashioned named after the late G&G columnist.) The gleaming 1968 skyscraper designed by Edward Durell Stone has a comforting mid-century vibe, all clean lines and polished marble.

Eat

Dooky Chase

Dooky Chase is a civil rights monument with delicious food on the side. Founded by Emily and Edgar “Dooky” Chase in 1941, the restaurant emerged as an essential strategizing spot for civil rights leaders in the 1960s (Martin Luther King Jr. ate here). Today you’ll find authentic Creole dishes such as gumbo and Shrimp Clemenceau, along with tangible, flavorful proof that, as Dooky’s daughter-in-law, the late Queen of Creole Cuisine Leah Chase, once said, “food builds big bridges.”

Arnaud’s

Opened in 1918 by French wine salesman Arnaud Cazenave, this mainstay still sets a high bar with its exquisite Creole cuisine, including such signature dishes as turtle soup and oysters Bienville. Since 1978, Arnaud’s has been owned and run by the Casbarian family, who have raised its stature year by year. Come early and stop by the adjacent French 75 Bar to sip one of the eponymous cocktails, served by white-jacketed bartenders amid the space’s classic wood-and-tile splendor.

Paladar 511

A Marigny neighborhood standout, this modern Italian restaurant is your destination when you want food that comforts and service that impresses. Located in a repurposed warehouse with an understatedly trendy vibe, Paladar 511 manages to elevate to a celebratory level simple dishes like cacio e pepe or roasted mushroom pizza. It’s always lively, and best enjoyed with friends.

Cane & Table

Cane & Table has been a favorite among rum cocktail aficionados for more than a decade (try the Hurricane & Table, which celebrates the famed NOLA sipper as it tasted in decades past). It’s more recently come into its own as a culinary destination, thanks to the deft skills of executive chef Alfredo Nogueira. Ask about the monthly supper club dinners held in the historic room upstairs, in which the chef honors his Cuban heritage with dishes such as grouper escabeche served with an avocado mousse, paired with drinks like the Canchánchara, a riff on a daiquiri made with honey.

Café Reconcile

Eat well while doing good at this nonprofit. The hospitality training program, located a short cab ride from downtown, is open for lunch only and staffed by young adult trainees from the community and trainer advocates. They cook, serve, and keep the foodways of New Orleans alive. Best of all, their delectable local classics—white beans and shrimp, catfish po’boys, creatively prepared turkey necks—impress.

Beggars Banquet

Some restaurants attract all the hype. Beggars Banquet, located between Uptown and the business district, does not. Even so, the cozy neighborhood bistro gives off a warm, amber glow and consistently and quietly exceeds expectations with polished takes on American classics, like smoked redfish dip, scallops served with a crab hash, and market seafood specials that highlight whatever’s fresh from the docks.

Peacock Room

The aptly named Peacock Room—so blue! so much peacock art!—offers a bright oasis of happiness amid the otherwise stern and dour business district. On the ground floor of the Kimpton Hotel Fontenot, it aspires to be a hotel restaurant and bar of a bygone era, and it succeeds. Alongside cocktails and Louisiana’s Abita Brewing Company beers on draft, the fare is best described as upscale comfort food—think braised short ribs with miso-whipped sweet potatoes and a delightful shrimp Benedict at brunch.

Drink

Peychaud’s

If New Orleans had a Mount Rushmore of cocktail men, Antoine Amédée Peychaud would be looking down upon us. In the early 1800s, he created Peychaud’s bitters, which became a key ingredient in local liquid landmarks like the Sazerac and the Vieux Carré. With its relaxing courtyard and knowledgeable staff who can walk you through all the notables, from fizzes to punches, Peychaud’s is an ideal spot to start your education in the city’s history of drink.

Jewel of the South

Everything at Jewel of the South is anchored in the past. Housed in a grand Creole cottage on St. Louis Street, the alluring French Quarter bar and restaurant, which opened in 2019, serves a menu of classic-inspired cocktails overseen by head barman Chris Hannah. The house specialty is the Brandy Crusta, an antique concoction invented by Joseph Santini, who owned the original Jewel more than a century ago.

Cure

From its perch in a former firehouse about a fifteen-minute cab ride from the French Quarter, Cure fueled the city’s modern cocktail revival. The bar set the standard for perfectly crafted cocktails when it opened in 2009, and maintains those standards today. After a drink, graze along Freret Street, which offers a wide array of upscale casual meals, from tacos (VALS) to hamburgers (the Company Burger) to classic Southern fare like barbecue shrimp (High Hat Cafe).

NightBloom

Since opening last April, NightBloom has added an unexpected gloss to a stretch of Bywater’s St. Claude Avenue and quickly become an inviting neighborhood destination. You’ll find on offer high-quality creative cocktails, like the Miss Vanjie, a mezcal margarita variation with cilantro, mint, jalapeño, and pineapple. The liquor selection skews toward woman- and minority-owned spirit brands, and some of the staff is drawn from Turning Tables, a local nonprofit that trains those from underrepresented groups in the art of craft bartending. Added bonus: It’s just across from Galaxie (a popular taco restaurant) and the Saturn Bar (a revered dive), allowing you to begin and end your night without straining your step count.

Barrel Proof

Feel free to order a cocktail at Barrel Proof—the house old-fashioned is stellar—but this is more of a whiskey bar (with a beer on the side). The Magazine Street stalwart features more than four hundred whiskeys, served up in a roadhouse atmosphere midway between downtown and Uptown. It attracts a long roster of regulars, but the staff knows how to make travelers feel at home as well.

See more: A Perfect Day in New Orleans, According to Six People Who Live There