Considering a Trip to New Orleans? Forget the Beads and Bourbon Street

Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral in New Orleans / Photograph via Getty Images

My wife and I are sitting at a picnic table outside of Turkey and the Wolf, an infamously indulgent sandwich shop on Jackson Avenue, ready to tip back a few Banquet beers and dig into a fried bologna sandwich, when we hear a voice from another table. “Y’all didn’t get the collards?” Soon, a man plops his half-finished bowl down on our table, procures two forks, and watches as our lips pucker from the vinegary, garlicky greens. I’ve been to New Orleans seven times now, and the reason I keep returning is because of stories just like this.

Day One

The first thing I do in New Orleans is head to Erin Rose, a French Quarter haunt known for its frozen Irish coffees. (Sometimes that’s even meant directing the cab straight there from Louis Armstrong International Airport, which offers daily nonstop flights from PHL.) Creamy, punchy, and with just enough brandy to say you’re in New Orleans now — be careful, the drink sets the tone for the trip. If you’re hungry, head to the back of the bar and grab a po’boy from Killer PoBoys — I prefer the glazed pork belly. New Orleans is one of the best walking cities in America, so I try to stay somewhere central, like the Higgins Hotel (rooms from $195), for easy access to the Quarter, the Garden District, and the music venues of Frenchmen Street. The hotel is a block away from Patron Saint, an inviting wine shop and bar with a vibe that reminds me of Supérette in East Passyunk. As you leave, grab a slice at St. Pizza next door — both businesses are owned by the same husband-and-wife team. (Bonus: The husband is a South Jersey native.)

A historic streetcar along St. Charles Avenue / Photograph via Getty Images

Day Two

If you overindulged the night before, shake it off with a quick run along the grassy streetcar tracks of the Garden District’s St. Charles Avenue. Take in the Southern Gothic architecture and the towering live oaks, and then catch the streetcar back. Hop off at Ninth Street for a coffee — and maybe a breakfast cookie — at Levee Baking Co., before continuing on to Molly’s Rise and Shine, where the crispy rice salad, tossed in a tamarind-lime vinaigrette and served with a smudge of yogurt and a scallion pancake, is a favorite. Window shop along Magazine Street; you could spend an afternoon ogling the vintage designer clothes at Century Girl alone. My last two trips I’ve dragged family and co-workers alike to Acamaya for dinner. It’s the best Mexican food I can remember — the sauces alone are worth the reservation — cooked through a New Orleans lens. The house tequila is the Cascahuin blanco, which is distributed in the U.S. by David Suro of Tequilas in Rittenhouse.

The crispy rice salad at Molly’s Rise and Shine / Photograph by William Hereford

Day Three

Okay, so you probably should pay your respects to Bourbon Street (you’re in New Orleans, after all). Get a hurricane at one of the thousand open-air bars that line the street, drink half of it, then check it off your list. (By the way: If you’re thinking about a Mardi Gras trip, go earlier in the season for the locals-only parades. The Krewe of Chewbacchus’s sci-fi-themed one is can’t-miss — I saw comedian Andy Richter being pushed down the street in a shopping cart during 2015’s parade.) Explore the spired St. Louis Cathedral at the head of Jackson Square before heading east to Bacchanal, a wine and cheese shop with a boisterous back yard. Earlier this year, I stopped by Holy Diver, a newish metal bar, and walked right into a birthday party, where I witnessed one of the greatest renditions of Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” ever put to karaoke microphone. (My friends and I were greeted with open arms.) On the walk home, we stopped at Key’s Fuel Mart, a fried chicken mecca that moonlights as a gas station. As we stood in the parking lot glow, gnawing on a greasy bag of wings, I looked around and saw exactly what keeps me coming back time after time.

Another Round

The daiquiri from Cane + Table / Photograph by Randy Krause Schmidt

In a city with virtually unlimited options, it’s always wise to get one more.

Something Tropical
The Caribbean-flecked Cane + Table is always a must. You haven’t had a daiquiri until you’ve had one here.

Something Cheap
I once walked into BJ’s Lounge and walked out with directions to a foam party in a field up the block. Drinks are good, too.

Something Strong
Those in search of the anisey pull of a Sazerac should head to either Napoleon House or Peychaud’s. I rarely order one outside of New Orleans; there’s something special about drinking it in the city of its birth.

Something With Music
Late-night go to Bullet’s Sports Bar for brassy funk and jazz­ — this used to be trumpeter Kermit Ruffins’s standing Thursday night venue — and ask if they’re charbroiling oysters out back.

Published as “Easy Does It” in the November 2026 issue of Philadelphia magazine.