5
Jackson Square, New Orleans, USA.
The waiter put down a plate of what looked like powdered sugar. Naomi reached over and dug through to the fried pastry beneath, sending clouds of white over the marble tabletop.
“You can’t come to New Orleans without trying beignets at Café du Monde.” She took a bite and grinned. “Hmm, heart attack on a plate. You gotta try them.”
The sweet baked smell made Jake’s mouth water. He tucked in, and between them, they polished off a plateful along with cups of café au lait. “Not bad for a tourist trap.”
Fueled up with sugar and caffeine, they walked across Decatur Street to Jackson Square, past rows of tourists queuing for the horse and carriage tours, and on toward the street artists gathered in the shade of live oak and magnolia trees.
An ornate metal
