This Louisiana All-You-Can-Eat Stop Is Worth The Pilgrimage
In New Orleans, indulgence isn’t an afterthought, it’s an art form. Nowhere shows that better than The Court of Two Sisters, where brunch unfolds like theater with music, history, and flavors layered in sequence.
The legendary courtyard winds past wrought-iron balconies, shaded patios, and dining rooms that carry the whispers of centuries. Gulf seafood mingles with Creole classics, desserts tempt from every corner, and jazz drifts through the air.
Here, atmosphere and plate arrive together, making the feast unforgettable.
Wrought-Iron Balcony Above The Courtyard
Shadows of fern leaves dance across iron scrollwork, framing the courtyard below in green lace. The atmosphere is both lively and elegant, humming with chatter.
These balconies are a classic French Quarter detail, dating back to the 1800s when ironwork became the signature flourish of Creole architecture. At this buffet, they add history to the feast.
Standing there, I felt like the setting was part of the menu. The balcony wasn’t just decoration, it deepened every bite with a sense of place.
Jazz Trio Playing Beneath Twinkle Lights
The trumpet trills softly, the bass thrums steady, and a piano line curls around conversations like smoke. Strings of bulbs sparkle overhead.
Live jazz has been part of Sunday brunch here for decades, carrying New Orleans’ identity into the dining room. The trio rotates tunes from standards to playful improvisations.
Request a courtyard table early if you can. The closer you sit to the band, the more the meal feels like music and food dancing together.
Carving Board Slicing Ribeye
The rhythm of knife against wood draws a small line of guests. Juices shine on the board, and each cut releases a new wave of aroma.
Carving stations became staples of New Orleans hotel banquets in the early 20th century, when ribeye and roasts symbolized indulgence. This tradition carries through here with steady precision.
Ask politely for a center slice. It’s where the marbling does its best work, giving you a bite that’s both tender and deeply flavorful.
Eggs Benedict On Warm Platters
Hollandaise gleams under the lights, smooth and lemony, cascading over soft-poached eggs. Toasted muffins peek from beneath, catching the sauce just so.
Eggs Benedict found their way into New Orleans brunches by the mid-1900s, embraced for their balance of richness and elegance. At this buffet, they replenish trays constantly to keep pace.
Tip: grab one early. They vanish quickly, and nothing compares to the texture when the yolk is still warm and creamy beneath that golden veil.
Turtle Soup Au Sherry Ladled To Order
The steam carries an earthy, peppery scent, and then comes the flourish, a pour of sherry drifting in amber spirals across the surface.
This dish has anchored Creole menus for more than a century, often prepared with veal or beef to enrich the stock. Here, servers keep the ritual alive, ladling each bowl fresh.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the depth floored me. The sherry gave it lift, and suddenly the soup became the dish I kept thinking about.
Chicken And Sausage Gumbo Steam Rising
The pot bubbles steadily, sending curls of steam that smell of dark roux and smoked meat. Ladles dip deep, pulling up rice, sausage, and thick broth.
No Louisiana buffet would feel whole without gumbo. This version leans hearty, with andouille carrying spice and depth. Every refill keeps the room scented like a family kitchen.
Don’t rush past. Even among dozens of options, gumbo deserves a pause, it tells you as much about New Orleans as any song.
Fried Catfish With Lemon Wedges
The crust shatters at the first forkful, flakes of white fish steaming underneath. Platters vanish fast as guests squeeze lemons over golden fillets.
Catfish has long been a Southern staple, prized for its abundance in regional waters. Cornmeal batter and hot oil keep it crisp long after it leaves the fryer.
I circled back for seconds. It wasn’t fancy or fussy, just done right, crunchy outside, tender inside. Honestly, it captured Louisiana cooking in its simplest, happiest form.
Shrimp Etouffee Beside Red Beans And Rice
Sauce glistens thick around shrimp, buttery and peppery, while a pot of red beans simmers nearby with smoky undertones. The pairing smells rich and earthy.
Etouffee, born from Creole kitchens, has long shared buffet space with beans and rice, two dishes deeply woven into New Orleans dining. Their side-by-side placement feels intentional.
Spoon them together on one plate. The etouffee’s spice brightens the beans, and the beans give grounding comfort — a duet worth savoring.
Cold Bar With Boiled Shrimp And Salads
Bowls of ice gleam under bright lights, shrimp piled high and pink against sprigs of lemon. Beside them, green salads cool the table’s palette.
The cold bar became a buffet standard when Gulf shrimp started shipping daily into New Orleans. Salads balance the heavier dishes, giving diners a refreshing pause mid-meal.
If you start here, you’ll pace yourself better. A plate of chilled shrimp with cocktail sauce clears the way for gumbo, roasts, and desserts yet to come.
Beignets And Bread Pudding On The Dessert Table
Powdered sugar coats the air as beignets are dusted, their edges crisp and hollow inside. A pan of bread pudding steams nearby, studded with raisins.
Both desserts trace back through Creole kitchens: beignets as French imports, bread pudding as a thrifty classic turned indulgence with whiskey sauce or caramel. Buffets here honor both traditions.
I tried them back-to-back, and it felt like a finale worth the hype. Sweet, warm, messy, exactly the kind of ending I hope for in New Orleans.
Mimosa Glasses Clinking In The Shade
Sunlight filters through umbrellas, catching the sparkle of orange-tinted champagne flutes raised in toasts. Conversations rise and fall like a gentle tide.
Brunch in New Orleans has long carried a festive reputation, and here mimosas seal the deal. Servers keep trays moving steadily, making sure glasses never linger empty.
Best to pace yourself, the buffet is abundant, and citrus sweetness goes further than you think when paired with gumbo and rich desserts.
Historic Dining Rooms Off The Courtyard
Wooden floors creak underfoot, chandeliers glow, and portraits watch from paneled walls. Each room feels like stepping into another decade.
These dining spaces once hosted political gatherings and family celebrations, preserved carefully as part of the restaurant’s legacy. Even as brunch crowds flow in, the rooms keep their intimacy.
I slipped away from the courtyard buzz into one of these rooms. The quiet, the sense of age, it made me appreciate that this feast is rooted in something lasting.