I Went to Café du Monde, and Now I’m Addicted to Beignets (and Powdered Sugar)

Here’s the thing about New Orleans: It’s a city built on poor decisions. And when I say poor decisions, I mean of the delicious, deep-fried, definitely-not-calorie-conscious variety. Enter Café du Monde, the OG beignet capital of the world. It’s a tourist trap, yes. But unlike most tourist traps (looking at you, chain restaurants in Times Square), this one is 100% worth the hype and the powdered sugar lung damage.

First Impressions: Powdered Sugar Enthusiast Paradise

The man and I approached Café du Monde with the determination of people who’ve just Googled “New Orleans must-eats” and believe in following the will of the internet gods. The line was long enough to make a Disneyland ride look efficient. But when you can smell the scent of fresh beignets in the air, you accept that you’re going to have to wait because this is a rite of passage.

Let’s set the scene: You get a bag of three beignets. Each one is hot, fresh, and has been doused in enough powdered sugar to make Scarface blush. It’s a level of excess that feels…honest. Because why half-ass anything when you can whole-ass it? Café du Monde gets it.

Bite #1: The Cloud of Glory

The first bite is transcendental. Imagine biting into a cloud that’s crunchy on the outside, pillowy on the inside, and made entirely of fried dough. Now imagine that cloud has been lovingly smothered in the pure, uncut essence of a powdered sugar avalanche. If you don’t immediately inhale a lungful of it and look like a toddler who got into the flour jar, you’re doing it wrong.

Listen, I didn’t order beignets at Café du Monde because I value my health. I ordered them because I value the endorphin rush of eating something so perfectly engineered to make my brain light up like a Christmas tree. And they did not disappoint. This is not “I’ll have a polite nibble” food. This is “unhinge your jaw and devour with the enthusiasm of a rabid raccoon” food. You will probably leave looking like a powdered monster on the hill.

The Aftermath: I Am Become Sugar, Destroyer of Diets

We need to talk about the mess. Powdered sugar doesn’t just get on you; it becomes a part of you. You leave Café du Monde looking like a powdered donut personified. And if you’re one of those people who wear all black because it’s chic and slimming, well, you’re in for a rude awakening because nothing escapes the cloud. It’s a rite of passage to leave with sugar all over your clothes, your face, and probably your nose.

I’ve never felt like more of a hot mess in public, and I’m not sorry. I’ve also never felt more at home, because I was surrounded by dozens of other people in the exact same state of sugared chaos. There’s a sort of unspoken camaraderie there. It’s a support group of strangers united by their collective choice to say, “Screw it, I’m going to eat this entire plate of fried dough and you can’t stop me.”

The Verdict: Worth the Hype, the Mess, and the Powdered Sugar Hangover

Look, Café du Monde is iconic for a reason. These beignets are a gift from the gods of gluttony. And sure, you could try to make them at home, but that would be like trying to make champagne by shaking a soda bottle. It’s not the same. It’s the experience—the café’s ambiance, the powdered sugar everywhere (literally everywhere), and the absolute acceptance of pure indulgence. It’s a moment where you get to look your responsible self in the mirror, flip them off, and lean into the carb coma.

So if you’re in New Orleans and don’t go to Café du Monde, what are you even doing? Go for the beignets, stay for the people-watching, and leave as a walking snow globe of sugar.

Pro Tip: You can buy a box of the mix to take home, but remember: the secret ingredient isn’t the flour or the oil. It’s the unbridled sense of joy and freedom you feel when you decide that yes, three pieces of fried dough are a balanced breakfast. And that, my friends, is why I’m already plotting my return.