MAY BONUS: How to find the perfect peach daiquiri the morning after you ordered one on Bourbon Street.
There’s a daiquiri joint about every 5 feet on Bourbon Street, most of them stand doorless and open, bright-colored frozen slush beckoning as it whirls around in machine after machine. Foolishly, I didn’t realize there was any difference between all of these daiquiris, but apparently (at least in Joe’s mind) we stumbled across a rare and spectacular peach flavor. Beyond himself with joy, he literally fell asleep clutching the ginormous styrofoam cup to his chest, I had to pry it from his fingers.
But, the next afternoon, when we tried to recreate the magic of the previous day’s peach daiquiri, we ran into a problem—we couldn't find the right place. After stopping in at least 6 places that didn’t serve peach, having our hopes dashed by a sub-par daiquiri that was apparently “too sweet” for someone, I remembered I’d taken a picture of the blessed place’s inside.
We were on a mission. Our only option was to march up and down Bourbon, popping our heads in and out of doorways, laughing like maniacs as we compared them to the photo. We walked the 13-blocks back and forth twice to no avail.
In the end, technology saved us. Using the picture’s time stamp we were able to search our Google Maps' Location History for that time (yes, we were that desperate to find it). And there it was, the magical daiquiri place we walked past 6 times, exactly 10 steps away from where we stood, and completely unidentifiable from the outside. What did people do before smartphones, drink the swill served at all the other daiquiri places we walked past?
Our Bourbon Street scavenger hunt was a success, Joe got his daiquiri and I got to finish its sub-par brother. If you visit NOLA see if you can find the exact daiquiri place in the picture. We highly recommend the peach.