A bartender in a snazzy white tuxedo pops the cork off a bottle of champagne and laughter erupts nearby. Glasses clink and friends embrace. It’s Thursday afternoon in New Orleans, where there’s always a reason to celebrate. 

Perched at the Chandelier Bar in the Four Seasons Hotel, I feel like I’m inside a glass of champagne myself. A cascade of 15,000 crystals hovers above my head in suspended animation, glistening with tiny bursts of light in every color of the rainbow. I sip the bar’s signature martini, a botanical beauty with three top-shelf gins and a mysterious herbal mist. The flavors dance in my crystal coupe glass, and soon I feel like dancing too.

I’m exploring the newest attractions in New Orleans, one of America’s oldest cities.

Several luxury hotels have opened recently in the French Quarter, but one stands above the rest. Soaring over the banks of the Mississippi River, the five-star Four Seasons has transformed a landmark modernist tower, the 34-story World Trade Center, into a temple of impeccable service and Big Easy élan. I’m struck by the immensity of the Mississippi River from my room’s floor-to-ceiling windows, with cargo ships and paddlewheel boats chugging along the epic waterway. I could spend hours watching the scene from my bed—or my swimming pool-size bathtub—but, for now, I head to Jamnola.

Like a New Orleans-inspired Meow Wolf, this whimsical funhouse is a fantastic realm of colorful feathers, giant crawfish, golden alligators and massive Mardi Gras beads.

Since launching in 2020, Jamnola has grown so popular that it’s moving to a larger location this year, with numerous new installations by more than 30 local artists, including an Afro-futuristic spaceship.

For dinner I slip up to the jamón bar at the dark and moody 34 Restaurant, chef Emeril Lagasse’s latest venture and an homage to his Portuguese heritage. Cured pork legs hang in a row between me and the open kitchen with two more mounted at the bar for easy slicing. A serious-faced chef carefully arranges my plate of acorn-fed Iberian ham, or jamón ibéricon de bellota. Nutty and smoky, it melts in my mouth—perfect with the Portuguese queijo de ovelha curado, a buttery-soft sheep cheese.

In the morning, I pop into City Market, an airy, plant-filled food hall with Vietnamese cuisine, fresh juices, poke and pastries. I grab a blueberry Danish and set out for the Sazerac House. Found in the French Quarter, this well-done, multistory museum celebrates New Orleans’ official cocktail, the Sazerac. It’s a potent concoction of rye whiskey, Peychaud’s bitters, absinthe, lemon and sugar. The museum also showcases the evolution of the city’s unique cocktail culture in jazz clubs and speakeasies. I visit a replica of the 1850s apothecary where Peychaud’s bitters were invented and stop to sample cocktails on every floor.

Music bounces into my ears as I wander beneath the wrought-iron balconies of the French Quarter: trombones, trumpets, tubas and the odd singing DJ. I gawk at the chandelier stores on Royal Street, imagining a crystal-filled bar of my own, and seriously consider purchasing an absinthe fountain at the Gem de France boutique.

Three poets, huddling in long johns on the 60-degree day, sit behind vintage typewriters on tiny tables outside. I’m a sucker for starving artists, so I buy an impromptu ode to the moment:
this far south
the flowers bloom year-round
the seasons change
the seasons do
we live today. 

I tuck the poem into my bag and smile. The people in New Orleans know how to live. Back at the Four Seasons, Cajun flavors get the French treatment at Chemin à la Mer, a steak and seafood restaurant with panoramic river views and a James Beard award-winning chef, Donald Link. I try six different oysters in the classic-meets-coastal space, where woven and leather seating mix with dark greens and multi-hued woods. But my heart belongs to Miss River, the hotel’s other standout restaurant and the yin to Chemin à la Mer’s yang.

I discover the effervescent Art Deco eatery during its Saturday jazz brunch and fall instantly in love with its antiqued mirrors, scalloped tables and pink marble bar. There’s just something about a long, boozy brunch that speaks to the soul of New Orleans. I linger for hours over crunchy praline bacon, flaming espresso martinis and milk punch made with cognac. My butter-fried beignets with prosciutto are so good that I order them again for dessert, this time with toasted vanilla cream.

I end my adventures 34 stories above the restaurant at Vue Orleans, whose indoor and outdoor observation decks offer 360° views. The Mississippi River curves through the cityscape as it makes its way to the sea, slow and sparkling. Far below in the French Quarter, the music plays on—and somewhere a champagne bottle is popping.