The Dead Can’t Eat These

New Orleans: Celebrating Life

If you didn’t dance until dawn, then you didn’t actually visit New Orleans. This city celebrates life with a passion! They take control of their luck (voodoo), have an honest appreciation of what unites all of us (death) and prepare foods so rich in sugar that you can’t help but dance for hours. Let’s celebrate life.
- Cris

The Voodoo Museum

Spells, Scandals, and the Spirit of New Orleans

Walk a block off Bourbon Street and you’ll find one of the most curious little museums in America: The New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum. It’s tiny—just two dimly lit rooms—but don’t let the square footage fool you. The energy inside is bigger than any cathedral.

Founded in 1972 by artist and cultural preservationist Charles Gandolfo, the museum is more than just a showcase of skulls, altars, and gris-gris bags. It’s a front-row seat to one of the most misunderstood (and gossiped-about) spiritual traditions in the Western Hemisphere. And here in New Orleans, voodoo isn’t a spooky subplot—it’s history, religion, and rebellion all rolled into one.

The scandal? For centuries, elite society in New Orleans tried desperately to keep voodoo underground—while secretly indulging in it. Wealthy Creoles would publicly clutch their pearls at the mention of “hoodoo,” but privately consult practitioners for love charms, gambling luck, and even hexes against political rivals. One of the most famous cases? Mayor Étienne de Boré, who allegedly used a voodoo priestess to jinx a competitor during a bitter sugar cane trade dispute in the early 1800s. The competitor’s plantation mysteriously flooded—on a sunny day.

At the center of all voodoo whispers stands one name: Marie Laveau. A free woman of color, hairdresser to the elite, and legendary voodoo queen, Laveau blurred the line between high society and the spirit world. She knew everyone’s secrets, baptized in St. Louis Cathedral by day and danced with spirits at Congo Square by night. It’s said she once “settled” a murder trial by simply placing three Xs on a courtroom bench the night before the verdict. The accused walked free.

The museum honors this rich, tangled legacy. Inside, you’ll find relics from real rituals, altars still in active use, and offerings left behind by visitors seeking help from the spirits. There are stories of love spells that worked too well, political curses that aged senators overnight, and dolls that allegedly moved after hours (according to more than one intern).

Is it spooky? Yes. But it’s also soulful, subversive, and undeniably New Orleans. But do they have a gift shop? Of course they do. Check out the items for sale to put your own hex on someone (checking my list).

The First-Ever Father’s Day Cookie Box from the Dog 

A heartfelt (and hilarious) treat for the man who picks up the poop.

One box. Two kinds of cookies. Endless tail wags.

Half the cookies are for him. Half are for the dog. All are made with love - and safe for sharing. Because dog dads deserve a little love too. This one-time cookie box was created by a dog-obsessed newsletter writer with a whisk and a wild idea. Limited to just 200 boxes. Ships June 11 for Father's Day delivery.

Win Father’s Day. Send cookies.

The Museum of Death

New Orleans’ Creepiest Address (and Most Bizarre Date Idea)

Let’s be honest: New Orleans has a reputation for flirting with the dead. Ghost tours? We’ve got them. Haunted mansions? Plenty. Cemeteries that look like sculpture gardens for vampires? Everywhere. But if you’re craving a deep dive into the really dark side of human curiosity, there’s one place that makes even locals raise an eyebrow - the Museum of Death.

Located on Dauphine Street, just a few blocks from the raucous chaos of Bourbon, this unassuming building houses a collection that walks a tightrope between morbid fascination and outright horror. It's not a haunted house. There are no jump scares. Just real death, real stories, and real artifacts... and yes, it’s gloriously creepy.

Originally founded in California, the New Orleans branch of the Museum of Death opened its doors to the public in 2014. And since then, it has built a cult following of true crime fans, curiosity seekers, goth kids on field trips, and couples looking to test the limits of their second date. Its mission? To "make people happy to be alive." (Not kidding - that’s their slogan.)

So what’s inside? Brace yourself:

• An actual set of photos from the Manson Family crime scenes.

• Original artwork by serial killers, including John Wayne Gacy (who liked to paint clowns, obviously).

• Vintage mortician tools, embalming equipment, and autopsy photos from the early 1900s.

• A collection of funeral ephemera, including antique coffins, Victorian mourning jewelry, and pamphlets from some of the weirdest eulogies ever delivered.

• And yes, there’s an entire wall dedicated to cult deaths, complete with creepy recordings and memorabilia from Heaven’s Gate and Jonestown.

One of the most talked-about items? A suicide machine designed by Dr. Jack Kevorkian, the infamous right-to-die advocate. It looks like something a high school science teacher might’ve built out of spare vacuum parts - until you realize what it was used for.

What makes the Museum of Death so… oddly enjoyable? For one, it doesn’t feel exploitative. There’s no cheesy music or over-the-top horror narration. Everything is presented matter-of-factly, with a wink toward the macabre and a heavy dose of “Can you believe this is real?” It’s like walking through a crime scene scrapbook compiled by your weirdest, smartest friend. And, yes, of course they have a gift shop.

But it’s not all doom and gloom. There’s a strange sense of connection that happens when you walk through rooms full of mortality. People laugh nervously. They whisper. They lean in close and say, “Okay, this is messed up - but fascinating.” And by the time you step back into the humid Louisiana air, blinking at the sunlight and maybe hugging your plus-one a little tighter, the effect kicks in: you really are glad to be alive.

Is it for everyone? Absolutely not. If you’re squeamish, or if you think taxidermy is a personal affront to dignity, you might want to stick with the carousel at City Park. But if you’ve got a taste for the taboo - and a strong stomach - it’s one of the most unforgettable stops in New Orleans.

And hey, if you make it through the Manson files and still want to kiss your date on the sidewalk outside? You might just be soulmates.

Ready to feel gloriously alive?

These New Orleans Pecan Pralines pack a real punch of sugar and buttery goodness. You will have the energy to dance after several of these gems!

I might need a moment while the sugar from the pralines wears off but I am ready to celebrate being alive!

See you next Wednesday.

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