Is The Super Bowl A Foodie Mecca? I Went To New Orleans To Find Out

It's 10:45 a.m., hot as hell, and I'm walking down the side of a New Orleans highway to meet up with Eli Manning and Guy Fieri at a Super Bowl tailgate party before heading to the big game. (If you're interested in a full account of that fever-dream of a day, you can read about my experience on The Takeout.) Yesterday, I found out Taylor Swift was spotted at the restaurant, Lilette, I ate at the night before, making our meal suddenly a very big deal to everyone I encounter. This is perhaps the weirdest experience of my life. At least (today) I'm not hungover.

I am not a sports journalist (honestly, I'm not even much of a football fan), so what am I doing at the Super Bowl? I'm here to take the Pepsi challenge.

Once in charge of the halftime show, Pepsi still dominates the Super Bowl experience. At the Louis Armstrong Airport, massive signs direct visitors to, "Sip Easy in the Big Easy." Displays are filled to the brim with bags of Frito-Lay chips (part of the PepsiCo family), and coolers shaped to resemble oversized Pepsi cans dot the landscape.

I arrived in New Orleans hungry, and after checking in at the hotel, I made my way to Superior Seafood for dinner. As kitschy as you want the first restaurant you visit in New Orleans to be, I sipped a French 75 while snacking on some serviceable spinach artichoke dip. (It's pretty hard to mess up.) The veggie risotto was very mid, but luckily the carrot cake more than made up for it. It was a giant slab covered in an almost obscene amount of frosting, and I ended up taking half home and eating it with my hands the next morning for breakfast. (Oddly, our hotel didn't have room service or easily accessible utensils.)

After my morning cake, I was ready for round two. However, the universe had other plans, so I snagged a local beer: Paradise Park lager from Urban South Brewery. It was refreshing and exactly what I needed in the heat as I waited for my car to arrive and take me to a new hotel. After shoveling a very whatever flatbread pizza into my mouth, I headed to Cure for cocktails.

A historic New Orleans bar (and on our list of best bars in New Orleans), Cure is credited with helping to bring the craft cocktail movement to the city. I started with a Girl Dinner (Champagne and beet juice), which I found perfect for the moment, but it's definitely not for everyone. The eye-catching, vibrant hue caused quite a few people to ask what I was sipping. My second drink was the Romance in Durango, described as a riff on the tequila Martinez with quinine, caramelized pineapple, and paprika. I found this to be less enjoyable, but I didn't have to suffer long, as we were late for our reservation at Lilette. (Yes, this is the one Taylor Swift ate at.)

At Lilette, charming French-Italian restaurant, I started off with a Lillet Rouge cocktail. We decided to split a bunch of dishes instead of ordering our own mains (in hindsight, probably a mistake) and shared a fantastic plate of gnocchi, grilled beets, and a salad. I also got a cup of creamy, incredible parsnip and black garlic soup; the sweet parsnip and caramelized garlic flavors were perfectly balanced. I ordered two bottles of wine for the table: an Italian Barbera and a Grenache from California's Russian River Valley.

From here, we met up with some other people in town for the big game — people who were similarly more interested in cocktails and Cajun food than they were football. We stopped by Kingfish Kitchen & Cocktails, which looked promising but had an odd vibe. (In retrospect, they were probably trying to close?) I had a delicious Pimm's Cup and would return again, though maybe for brunch or happy hour instead of a nightcap. Afterward, we wandered over to the Carousel Bar. Housed in a lovely hotel, this aptly named bar slowly spins. It's very possible it sells wonderful cocktails, but we had a few too many to truly appreciate the offerings. I pulled a "When Harry Met Sally" and let the person ordering just get me one of what everyone else was having.

The next day, feeling a bit worse for wear, I headed to the Chips and Sips Quarter event with Pepsi. A sight to behold, the space resembled a colorful city block, with each "house" themed after a different PepsiCo product. The area was surprisingly crowded for a Friday afternoon, with families posing to have their caricatures drawn, taste unique chip flavors (my favorite: the fried green tomato wavy Lay's), and marvel at a Chester Cheetah topiary.

I made a beeline for the Pepsi Challenge booth, as that was my raison d'être. Walking in, a person briefly explained the history of the Pepsi Challenge and how this new iteration differed from the original. I was presented with two small cups of cola: one with Pepsi Zero Sugar and the other Coke Zero Sugar. After a few sips, I was fairly certain I knew which was which. The two did taste notably different, as fans of either brand can attest, and I guessed which was Pepsi Zero Sugar correctly. Cue the fanfare, snap a photo, celebrate good times! I am not someone who likes to lose, and — like the Philadelphia Eagles would that Sunday — I absolutely crushed it. If this was a competition, I would have dominated; luckily for everyone else, it was not, and we all received the same reward. Still, I know inside beats the heart of a champion and that I would be able to spend the rest of the weekend gloating about my success.

After my rousing victory, I moseyed over to the Cheetos house to have my fortune told by Chester. My group summoned the mascot from the astral plane into a crystal ball, and he told our fortunes. My job that weekend was to eat snacks and drink Pepsi, so I'm not quite sure how the whole thing worked, but it did respond to the questions and answers each person gave in turn. The kids in our little seance were adorably embarrassed as only tweens can be, and we all had a nice time. On the way out, I grabbed a deck of Cheetos-themed tarot cards and a bag of cheese pizza-flavored Puffs.

Up next was the Doritos shack, which was giving out actual, permanent tattoos. They honestly looked a lot cooler than I expected, featuring mystical designs, football references, and many, many triangles. Sadly, I am not one of "the bold" and opted out of the ink. I did, however, try the golden sriracha Doritos being handed out, which were spicier than I expected.

Tostitos had two spaces: an "armchair quarterback" trivia game and a stage where football players were interviewed. As previously stated, I like to win, so I chose to sit back and watch people throw footballs at targets to answer sports questions instead of participating.

I stopped by the NOLA Eats fest and Super Bowl Boil, which were both filled with music, eating, and drinking (boozy or not). Unlike the Chips and Sips section, the food and drinks here weren't free, but it still seemed many — locals and tourists alike — had come over to the waterfront to enjoy the festivities. A personal highlight was the DRIPS by Pepsi truck, which I had previously seen on social media and was eager to try.

The drink list varied from the normal (Starry Strawberry Basil) to the unexpected (Lipton Mango Horchata). Feeling brave (and still a bit hungover from the night before), I went for the oddest option on the menu, the Dew Chill Dill. The drink was made with Mtn Dew, cucumber, and basil and garnished with a pickle spear. I honestly loved it; you could taste the pickle, but it all mixed harmoniously. The end result was a fresh, herbal soda that left me feeling totally revitalized.

Dinner that evening was fairly uneventful, if not delicious. (I was clearly not the only one who could have gone to bed a bit earlier the night before.) Named after a Louisiana river, Atchafalaya serves up elevated interpretations of classic Cajun and Creole dishes. I opted for a side of luscious cream cheese grits and a kale goat cheese salad, which was dressed with a bright, piquant pepper jelly vinaigrette. The wine list at Atchafalaya is massive, and we ordered a crisp Sancerre to start, finishing with an old world red.

I decided to branch out a bit for dessert but was sadly not rewarded. The blue cheese flan lacked flavor, though the small piece of brittle on top was tasty. As a big blue cheese fan, I was disappointed and ate less than half.

Post-dinner, we headed over to Shaq's Fun House, where the basketball star was DJing. The party was held in Mardi Gras World, which turned out to be a warehouse for parade floats. Sipping a watermelon marg, I watched from the sidelines as Shaq bopped around on stage. Believe it or not, I have seen him perform before, so I decided to dip out while everyone else got the party going.

The next day, I had little to do, so I took the opportunity to sleep in a bit and sightsee. As one could expect, the city was full of revelers, so there was a lot to take in. After breakfast tacos and a blood orange mimosa at Ruby Slipper (a small chain recommended by a few locals, as well as our best brunch in New Orleans list) I walked through the French Quarter, ambling up Bourbon St. I fought the crowds at the historic Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop Bar to try the infamous Purple Drank. It took way longer than I would have liked, but as I walked away in the 80+ degree heat with the frozen, grape-flavored concoction in my hand, it felt worth the effort.

A short walk on the waterfront and I was at the French Market, an outdoor mall dating back to the late 1700s. Still full from brunch, I grabbed a praline and browsed the spice stores and artist stalls. Sweating and ready for another frozen drink, I went to the smoothie shop, Organic Banana, to pick up a daiquiri. I sipped it while listening to a jazz band and checking out Central Grocery Co. (famous for its muffulettas) before heading back to the hotel to get ready for the night.

A large group of us walked over to our first event of the night, the Taste of the NFL, featuring small bites from local restaurants and meet-and-greets with football players. I most certainly did not appreciate the latter as much as other guests, who were walking around starstruck. (My big celeb sighting was Carla Hall.) I went all in on dessert, with the matcha-dusted beignets from Queen of Flavor as my personal MVP.

For dinner, we went to Mister Mao, a globally-inspired "tropical roadhouse." The service was a bit slow, but the rowdy, quirky vibe (plus delicious cocktails) made the wait fly by. We were given espresso martini shots — the perfect amount of espresso martini, in my humble opinion — and snacked on tapas-style plates like pani puri, blue crab bucatini, and spicy asparagus tostadas. My cocktail of choice was the Uncle Butthead, which was a refreshing mix of mezcal, amaro, and lime.

We finished up the night at the Sports Illustrated Party, also housed in Mardi Gras World. I had an early-ish morning planned, so I once again didn't stick around for long. Before heading out, however, I did drink one of those giant cocktails in a plastic cup you always see in movies and on TV, so check that off the life experience bucket list.

The next morning, I headed over to Guy Fieri's Flavortown Tailgate, hoping to get some face time with the Food Network star. Once again at Mardi Gras World, this event was significantly different from the rest for a few reasons: namely that it was during the day, making the experience much hotter and sweatier than the others, and that Guy's fans are seriously passionate. After tailing the celeb chef for over an hour, taking a sip directly from his bottle of tequila, and being jostled and shoved aside by the adoring residents of Flavortown, I decided I had done my duty and hightailed it out of there.

I rewarded myself for surviving the Flavortown Tailgate with lunch at Turkey and the Wolf, your favorite chef's favorite sandwich shop. I have been lusting after the collard green melt for years, and I can happily report it lived up to the hype.

Finally, it was time for the big game. While I did grow up in South Jersey — and am therefore an Eagles fan by blood — I am not a huge football person. Still, I was happy to cheer the boys on to victory (go birds) while sipping 24-ounce cans of Stella and snacking on Little Caesars' pizza and Tostitos chips with nacho cheese. Not exactly the culinary highlight of the trip, but I've found it's often best to embrace where you are at that moment.

The next morning, still basking in the glow of hometown pride, I popped over to Majoria's Commerce Restaurant for a final biscuit breakfast sandwich and side of cheese grits before saying goodbye to the Big Easy. Even six months ago, if you told me I would be at the Super Bowl, watching the Eagles dominate the field, I would have never believed you. The experience was one of the most surreal I've had in my entire life, at times feeling more like a Purple Drank-induced hallucination than reality. NOLA more than deserves its reputation as a foodie destination, and I'm hungry to return and hit up the spots I missed. (Willie Mae's, I'm coming for you.)

Would I suggest anyone other than die-hard football fans buy a ticket to the big game? Absolutely not. But if Pepsi ever offers to bring you along for the wild, chaotic ride, you'd be a fool to say no.

Static Media owns and operates Tasting Table and The Takeout.