If you stay in the quarter it is great. Have been there twice since Katrina and was just there last month. The quarter is rocking and I would strongly recommend it.
They have the best food, great drinking and you can gamble at Harrahs.
They have the best food, great drinking and you can gamble at Harrahs.
The Royal Sonesta is right on Bourbon Street and is awesome but it may be pricey. Other hotels in the French Quarter include the Hotel Monteleone which is one block off of Bourbon and the Ritz Carlton but those may also be pricey. If you want to be near the casino and the Mississippi River you can try the Hilton, Harrahs, The Loews or The Doubletree. If you look hard enough you can find good deals on hotels. I paid $109 a night last month at the Hilton (Harrahs got me the rate) for weekend nights.
stayed here last year and loved it! right in the heart of the quarter
http://www.cornstalkhotel.com/
http://www.cornstalkhotel.com/
well I plan on going without body armor so hope everything will be ok. I will check out the Hilton $100 a night sounds good. Most places have a huge jump on the weekend but thats to be expected. I have been trying to decide between Savannah GA and New Orleans for a weekend trip. New Orleans so far has been coming out cheaper and sounds more fun.
one of the BEST places, and its hidden right off Bourbon st on Conti is Oceana Grill
http://www.oceanagrill.com/
They have the BEST BBQ Shrimp anywhere, and the blackened Catfish is simply excellent
Also had the Blackened Ribeye and loved it.
http://www.oceanagrill.com/
They have the BEST BBQ Shrimp anywhere, and the blackened Catfish is simply excellent
Also had the Blackened Ribeye and loved it.
also, for the BEST Jumbalaya..a little joint on Decatur st.
http://www.coopsplace.net/
Coops is off the charts
Rabbit & Sausage
Jambalaya A traditional Creole rice dish, simmared with tomatoes, onion, bell pepper, local seasonings, boneless rabbit, and smoked pork sausage. We add shrimp and tasso (Cajun seasoning ham) to make it Supreme.
Their Cajun Fried chicken is incredible too
Cajun Fried Chicken Seasoned to perfection with our own Coop's Bayou Blend and served with Rabbit & Sausage Jambalaya and coleslaw.
http://www.coopsplace.net/
Coops is off the charts
Rabbit & Sausage
Jambalaya A traditional Creole rice dish, simmared with tomatoes, onion, bell pepper, local seasonings, boneless rabbit, and smoked pork sausage. We add shrimp and tasso (Cajun seasoning ham) to make it Supreme.
Their Cajun Fried chicken is incredible too
Cajun Fried Chicken Seasoned to perfection with our own Coop's Bayou Blend and served with Rabbit & Sausage Jambalaya and coleslaw.
A Jambalaya Journey by Ian McNulty
<TABLE cellSpacing=5 cellPadding=5 width="90%" align=center border=0><TBODY><TR vAlign=bottom><TD align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]The first meal I had as a New Orleans resident was a much-anticipated plate of jambalaya from a place prominently advertised as a Cajun restaurant. It was terrible and it came as a big let down.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Later I asked around to friends and co-workers, trying to get a line on a good jambalaya. What I heard time and again was that the best jambalaya always comes from your own kitchen. To a large extent that is true. But now that it's fall and tourist season is gearing up once again, many of us will be hosting out-of-town friends who have certain expectations about New Orleans food. A home-cooked pot of jambalaya is a great and hospitable way to greet visitors, but not much help when, in the middle of a French Quarter bacchanal, your friends start howling the chorus of Hank Williams' "Jambalaya" and demanding a good local rendition of this musically-named dish.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]You can find it listed on many menus, but finding one that is at all palatable is a serious challenge. What you generally get is a scoop or two of tomato-red rice with a few dry circles of ordinary sausage and maybe some chicken cubes. Slimy remnants of Cajun cooking's Holy Trinity — onions, celery, and bell peppers may appear also. This is the accepted form of jambalaya when served from fundraiser chafing dishes and Mardi Gras parade party group feeds. But it comes up a bit short for $8 or more in a restaurant.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Happily, there are exceptions to this rule. The best restaurant jambalaya I've found, by far, comes from Coop's Place, a veritable late-night emporium of good Cajun-style eating in the Quarter. The menu here never ceases to amaze me and whenever I bring visitors there for a meal they are invariably floored. The food is wonderful, the prices are eminently affordable and the atmosphere is straight-up Decatur Street barroom. It's dark, not at all spacious, noisy from video poker machines, a jukebox, and pool table and as likely as not to be entertaining whooping drunks at the bar. The kitchen is open until 2 AM daily.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]The basic jambalaya comes with boneless rabbit and smoked sausage, with a small garden's worth of celery, peppers, onions, and chopped green onion. To make it "supreme," they add big shrimp the size of a woman's ring finger, crawfish tails, and their own tasso. The fact that Coop's Place has a smoker in the courtyard to make their own tasso — which are vividly flavorful, fatty chunks of seasoned ham — pretty well sums up what is so good and amazing about this unlikely find.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Apart from the jambalaya, many of the Cajun dishes visitors expect are represented here, including fried alligator bits that finally taste alike something besides battered rubber bands. Bowls of fettucine in a spicy cream sauce with fresh seafood, meat and vegetables are satisfying and offbeat — one has smoked turkey and sliced apples, and others have that great tasso. Entrees are ambitious enough to have come from a much tonier kitchen, like a mammoth redfish filet with a blackened crust of seasoning seared over light moist flesh.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Even the basics get good upgrades here, like the crisp green beans served with a busy bacon sauce. The appetizer I can never turn down, though, is the duck quesadilla, an unexpected and utterly delicious combination of tender duck and soft cheese grilled in a tortilla with salsa and that thick bacon sauce. Incredible.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]The wine list is also a happy surprise, with ten reds, whites, and champagnes. The local color is nice and thick here, too. Plenty of tourists stumble in, but it's mostly local. I've even seen hapless tourists excoriated by the bartender — to the point where they were compelled to get up and leave — for the offense of wearing Mardi Gras beads outside of Carnival season.[/FONT]</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
<TABLE cellSpacing=5 cellPadding=5 width="90%" align=center border=0><TBODY><TR vAlign=bottom><TD align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]The first meal I had as a New Orleans resident was a much-anticipated plate of jambalaya from a place prominently advertised as a Cajun restaurant. It was terrible and it came as a big let down.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Later I asked around to friends and co-workers, trying to get a line on a good jambalaya. What I heard time and again was that the best jambalaya always comes from your own kitchen. To a large extent that is true. But now that it's fall and tourist season is gearing up once again, many of us will be hosting out-of-town friends who have certain expectations about New Orleans food. A home-cooked pot of jambalaya is a great and hospitable way to greet visitors, but not much help when, in the middle of a French Quarter bacchanal, your friends start howling the chorus of Hank Williams' "Jambalaya" and demanding a good local rendition of this musically-named dish.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]You can find it listed on many menus, but finding one that is at all palatable is a serious challenge. What you generally get is a scoop or two of tomato-red rice with a few dry circles of ordinary sausage and maybe some chicken cubes. Slimy remnants of Cajun cooking's Holy Trinity — onions, celery, and bell peppers may appear also. This is the accepted form of jambalaya when served from fundraiser chafing dishes and Mardi Gras parade party group feeds. But it comes up a bit short for $8 or more in a restaurant.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Happily, there are exceptions to this rule. The best restaurant jambalaya I've found, by far, comes from Coop's Place, a veritable late-night emporium of good Cajun-style eating in the Quarter. The menu here never ceases to amaze me and whenever I bring visitors there for a meal they are invariably floored. The food is wonderful, the prices are eminently affordable and the atmosphere is straight-up Decatur Street barroom. It's dark, not at all spacious, noisy from video poker machines, a jukebox, and pool table and as likely as not to be entertaining whooping drunks at the bar. The kitchen is open until 2 AM daily.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]The basic jambalaya comes with boneless rabbit and smoked sausage, with a small garden's worth of celery, peppers, onions, and chopped green onion. To make it "supreme," they add big shrimp the size of a woman's ring finger, crawfish tails, and their own tasso. The fact that Coop's Place has a smoker in the courtyard to make their own tasso — which are vividly flavorful, fatty chunks of seasoned ham — pretty well sums up what is so good and amazing about this unlikely find.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Apart from the jambalaya, many of the Cajun dishes visitors expect are represented here, including fried alligator bits that finally taste alike something besides battered rubber bands. Bowls of fettucine in a spicy cream sauce with fresh seafood, meat and vegetables are satisfying and offbeat — one has smoked turkey and sliced apples, and others have that great tasso. Entrees are ambitious enough to have come from a much tonier kitchen, like a mammoth redfish filet with a blackened crust of seasoning seared over light moist flesh.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Even the basics get good upgrades here, like the crisp green beans served with a busy bacon sauce. The appetizer I can never turn down, though, is the duck quesadilla, an unexpected and utterly delicious combination of tender duck and soft cheese grilled in a tortilla with salsa and that thick bacon sauce. Incredible.[/FONT]</TD></TR><TR><TD vAlign=top align=left colSpan=3>[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]The wine list is also a happy surprise, with ten reds, whites, and champagnes. The local color is nice and thick here, too. Plenty of tourists stumble in, but it's mostly local. I've even seen hapless tourists excoriated by the bartender — to the point where they were compelled to get up and leave — for the offense of wearing Mardi Gras beads outside of Carnival season.[/FONT]</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
