‘Hold it right there. Before ya taste it, y’all gotta sign this disclaimer right here. Little precaution.’ So this wasn’t the most reassuring start to a New Orleans’ food tour, but that’s what happens when braving one of the world’s hottest hot sauces, raking up millions more points on the Scoville scale than the Carolina Reaper. Admittedly, I chickened out, but at least my taste buds remained in tact. As modern a phenomenon as hot sauce may seem, there’s evidence of it dating back millennia, having been used throughout history to mask the unappetising taste of poorly preserved food. So what? Well, New Orleans is recognised for its culinary prowess (and seemingly endless number of hot sauce-eries), but I’d massively underestimated how fascinating their culinary history would be. NOLA’s dishes tell stories of people who came to the city centuries ago, some voluntarily, others by force; a mash-up of transatlantic influences combined with rich local produce. Take gumbo for instance. It’s one of many dishes influenced by New Orleans’ darker past, as one of the country’s biggest slave ports. ‘Gumbo’ derives from a West African word meaning ‘okra’ – the ingredient used as the primary thickener in the stew-like dish. Other components include the ‘Holy Trinity’ of onion, pepper and celery, and proteins like seafood and sausage. But gumbo isn’t the only Louisianan speciality influenced by the slave trade. The rice dish jambalaya bears a striking resemblance to West African jollof, and has become a bucket list meal for visitors. To highlight the extent of these cross-cultural influences, links have also been made between jambalaya and paella, with the Spanish having dominated the city for around 40 years. On a sweeter note, pralines are thought to have arrived in New Orleans with French Ursuline nuns in the early 18th century, but enslaved kitchen workers later replaced the almonds in the confection for pecans, which could be found in abundance throughout the region. Following this, free people of colour, as they were then called, went on to earn their living selling pralines in the streets. The copiousness of pecans and their use in pralines and bourbon-fuelled pecan pie are not the only example of local ingredients being utilised. Surrounded by bayous, teeming with wildlife, the geography of the region brought Cajun influence to its cuisine via the swamp-dwelling Acadian people. The city still takes advantage of the availability of fresh wetland produce, with an array of crawfish dishes on every menu, alongside alligator meat, innovatively whipped up into a cheesecake dish at restaurant Jacques Imo’s. Going back to the late 1800s, we see the arrival of Sicilian immigrants, and with them begins the story of the muffuletta. Setting to work in the affectionately named ‘Little Palermo’, they would bake their ‘muffuletto’ bread, and many years later, Salvatore Lupo, proprietor of Central Grocery, is said to have created the muffuletta sandwich. Today, Central Grocery is still recognised as a Muffuletta hotspot, where the Sicilian bread is combined with mortadella and salami, provolone cheese and finished with an olive salad. From one sandwich to another, during the 1920s, two brothers worked tirelessly to provide sandwiches for the city’s striking tram workers. The tale goes that as the workers approached, the brothers would call out ‘Here come those poor boys,’ which became shortened to the southern-accented ‘po’ boys’, as the sandwich is now known. There are a number of variations of fillings, but you’ll always find rectangular-shaped sub bread, commonly filled with fried seafood (catfish, shrimp, oysters) and/or beef, and topped with a pickle, lettuce and tomato salad. Unsurprisingly, I began my journey home a good few pounds heavier, but also with a greater appreciation for quite how much we can learn about a place through its food. I’d never anticipated that my foodie adventure would delve so far into NOLA’s past, offering me experiences based on more than instant sensory gratification. Food everywhere is a reflection of local communities; the way in which different pockets of society interact with their social and geographical environment to create meals that are not only nourishing, but also inspiring. New Orleans fed me well, but it opened my eyes to a whole lot more.