Krewe Chronicle

In New Orleans, the arrival of crawfish season is as eagerly anticipated as Mardi Gras beads flying from a float. From the first chilly days of January to the warm evenings of early summer, the city turns into a paradise for lovers of these spicy, savory crustaceans. Whether you’re a lifelong local or a first-time visitor, knowing when and where to dive into a proper crawfish feast is essential.

Step into Louisiana’s swamps and you’ll find yourself in a world that feels both ancient and alive—a green cathedral of trees, vines, and blooms that thrive in still, dark waters. The bayou isn’t just home to wildlife—it’s a living tapestry of plants that have shaped the landscape for centuries. Among the most iconic are the towering bald cypress, the ethereal drape of Spanish moss, the delicate floating water lilies, and the elegant magnolia blossoms that frame the wetlands’

When the sun sinks below the cypress trees and the last streaks of gold fade over the water, Louisiana’s bayous transform. The still, glassy waterways take on a shadowy glow, Spanish moss sways like ghostly curtains, and a chorus of night creatures begins to sing. This is the bayou after dark—a world alive with movement, mystery, and magic.

In New Orleans, a transaction often comes with more than just what you paid for—it comes with lagniappe. Pronounced lan-yap, this old Creole word means a little something extra, a small gift from a shopkeeper, a bonus treat from the kitchen, or a surprise gesture meant to delight. It’s a tradition woven into the city’s hospitality, generosity, and joie de vivre.

Every spring, just as the weather turns warm and the city shakes off the last chill of winter, the French Quarter Festival transforms the Vieux Carré into one giant stage, dance floor, and dining hall. What began in 1984 as a small neighborhood event to bring locals back to the Quarter has grown into the largest free music festival in the South—yet it’s still one of the most beloved and authentic celebrations of New Orleans culture.

In Louisiana, spring isn’t marked by flowers blooming or temperatures warming—it’s marked by the smell of seasoned steam rising from a big, boiling pot of crawfish. More than just a meal, a crawfish boil is a social ritual, a culinary celebration, and a cultural glue that brings people together in a way few other traditions can.

Few events capture the heart and soul of New Orleans quite like the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival—better known to locals simply as Jazz Fest. Each spring, the city comes alive with music, food, and art in a way that blurs the line between a festival and a full-blown cultural pilgrimage. What began as a small gathering in 1970 has grown into one of the most renowned music festivals in the world, drawing thousands of visitors and putting New Orleans’ cultural heritage ce

Louisiana’s bayous are more than just a tangle of waterways draped in Spanish moss—they’re a living, breathing ecosystem teeming with wildlife. From prehistoric predators to graceful wading birds, these wetlands are home to some of the most iconic creatures of the Deep South. Whether you’re gliding through in a pirogue, roaring by on an airboat, or drifting on a paddlewheeler, keep your eyes peeled—there’s always something wild waiting to be spotted.

Every building in the Quarter tells a story. Spanish colonial walls, French Creole designs, and Greek Revival columns stand side by side, reflecting the city’s blend of cultures. As a parade winds past the St. Louis Cathedral, the Pontalba Buildings, and old carriage houses turned bars, you’re not just watching a celebration—you’re moving through the city’s timeline.

New Orleans doesn’t need a reason to throw a party—but it does love a good excuse. From running through the French Quarter in crimson cocktail attire to screaming “Stellaaaa!” at the top of your lungs, the Crescent City’s social calendar is packed with events that could only happen here. These aren’t just festivals—they’re love letters to the city’s eccentricity.

In most places, cemeteries lie flat—quiet fields of headstones stretching toward the horizon. In New Orleans, they rise above the ground in intricate stone and marble, creating streets of ornate tombs and mausoleums that feel more like small cities than graveyards. Fittingly, they’ve earned the nickname “Cities of the Dead.”

Step off the bustling streets of the French Quarter and you might just stumble upon one of New Orleans’ best-kept secrets—its hidden courtyards. These quiet, leafy oases are tucked behind wrought-iron gates and weathered wooden shutters, offering a glimpse into the city’s private, romantic side.

Once whispered about in bohemian circles and banned for nearly a century, absinthe has staged a dramatic return—now claiming pride of place on the menus and back bars of New Orleans’ most storied establishments. Known as La Fée Verte (“The Green Fairy”), this anise-flavored spirit once fueled art, poetry, and controversy from Paris to the Crescent City. Today, it’s not only legal but celebrated, making the Big Easy one of the premier places in the world to enjoy it.

In New Orleans, dessert doesn’t just end a meal—it’s a celebration, and nothing says lagniappe for your sweet tooth quite like a praline. With their melt-in-your-mouth texture and rich, nutty flavor, pralines are as much a part of the city’s culinary identity as beignets or king cake.

Absinthe has long been the stuff of legend—whispered about in smoky cafés, romanticized in bohemian art, and banned for nearly a century before making its comeback. Known as la fée verte (the Green Fairy), this herbal spirit isn’t just a drink—it’s an experience. And in New Orleans, where absinthe culture thrives in bars like the Old Absinthe House, Pirate’s Alley Café, and the Carousel Bar, there’s a right way to serve it: the classic absinthe drip.

If you’re in Louisiana during crawfish season, there’s one thing you need to know: it’s not just a meal—it’s a cultural event. Piles of steaming, spiced crawfish, cold drinks, picnic tables covered in newspaper, and friends crowded elbow-to-elbow—it’s as much about community as it is about flavor. But before you dig in, you’ve gotta learn the real way to eat them. And yes… that means sucking the heads.

In most cities, death is marked with solemnity, quiet reflection, and a certain hush. In New Orleans, it’s also accompanied by brass bands, dancing in the streets, and a style of celebration that blurs the line between mourning and merriment. Here, life and death aren’t opposites—they’re two parts of the same parade.

In New Orleans, seafood isn’t just dinner—it’s a way of life. The waters of Louisiana have long provided the bounty that fills gumbo pots, po’ boy rolls, and festival plates year-round. Among this Gulf Coast treasure, three reign supreme: crawfish, shrimp, and oysters—the undisputed royalty of the bayou table.

In Louisiana, a crawfish boil isn’t just dinner—it’s a full-blown event, a culinary performance, and a cherished social ritual rolled into one. From the hiss of the boiling pot to the first sprinkle of seasoning, every step of the process is steeped in tradition and fueled by the joy of bringing people together.

In Louisiana, the water is more than a backdrop—it’s a lifeline, a playground, and a cultural connector. From the slow, winding bayous to the mighty Mississippi, every curve and current tells a story. And in true Louisiana fashion, we’ve developed a colorful cast of vessels to navigate these waters—each with its own history, purpose, and charm.