Breakfast was, of course, at Cafe du Monde. No trip to New Orleans would be complete without several cups of the famous cafe au lait partnered with light-as-air beignets drowning in a pile of powdered sugar. It was enough to keep us going for awhile as we wandered through the French Quarter, though the temperature hovered around 29 degrees.
We ended up, as you do, in Reverend Zombie's House of Voodoo, and Irene couldn't help herself - when the cashier mentioned to her that one of the house psychics was available to do a reading, she handed over $20 and disappeared. Though, I think the major selling point was that they had a heater in the back. While she got the low down on her future, I chatted with the huge tattooed skinhead dude, who was totally sweet and told me where to get great Vietnamese soup.