The field of 68 has been whittled down to the Final Four teams. We've seen some great basketball, though the waning seconds of a game have yet to produce a signature finish - at this rate One Shining Moment is going to consist of clutch free throws and missed desperation heaves. More excitement is on the horizon, though, as Rick Pitino faces his former team in a grudge match which may leave the Commonwealth of Kentucky in shambles. For those traveling to partake of the Final Four festivities, don't neglect to plot out a well-crafted dining agenda. There are countless great restaurants near the Superdome (or at least en route to the venue). Or if you're looking to get your nosh on further away from the madness, here's our complete list of the best locally owned New Orleans restaurants. The editors at LocalEats have also recently compiled a list of our favorite Crescent City dishes. We're just crossing our fingers that New Orleans, among our most revered food cities, survives the impending Kentuckalypse. After all the furor, the winner of Kansas/Ohio State will probably be cutting down the nets, anyway. 

Cruise uptown to Pascal's Manale for the best bbq shrimp you'll ever have the pleasure of tasting. 

Happy Mardi Gras and laissez les bon temps rouler! The editors of LocalEats adore New Orleans. And though some of us may have been known to partake of the occasional hurricane, Huge Ass Beer (to go!) or frozen Irish coffee from Molly's on the Market - perhaps the most refreshing drink ever concocted - our primary indulgence is the sublime cuisine. It's an unparalleled food culture. We've compiled a list of the best New Orleans restaurants for all your Mardi Gras dining needs. And for the uninitiated, here's a list of a few must-try Crescent City dishes to make your Tuesday just a bit fatter. 

Debris-topped po'boy at Mother's ( the Famous Ferdi Special)

Barbecue shrimp at Pascal's Manale

Alligator cheesecake at Jacques-Imo's

The boucherie plate and fried boudin at Cochon (or anything else pigcentric from the restaurant or butcher shop)

Mussels and pommes frites at Luke

Beignets at Cafe du Monde

Oysters on the half shell at Felix's

Oyster loaf at Casamento's

Fried chicken at Willie Mae's Scotch House

Gumbo at the Gumbo Shop

Brunch at Commander's Palace

Oysters en Brouchette at Galatoire's

Fried Oysters at Dick and Jenny's (po-boys available at lunch)

Bananas Foster prepared tableside at Brennan's (a bit touristy, but worth it for the history lesson/atmosphere)

Blackened drum at K-Paul's Louisiana Cuisine

I'll stop there for now as pangs of hunger and jealousy will not allow me to continue. In the meantime, I'll be daydreaming of oyster po-boys, unbelievable coffee and a swine smorgasbord from Cochon. 

As stated in the previous Eating the Obvious entry on Primanti Bros. in Pittsburgh, we at LocalEats delight in finding restaurants off the beaten path and hidden gems frequented by locals-in-the-know. Sometimes, though, the best way to orient yourself in a new city is to visit the most iconic restaurant or try the most obvious indigenous foodstuff. With Eating the Obvious I'm exploring well-trafficked restaurants that are popular for a reason and haven't let quality suffer by coasting on their reputation. Today's completely obvious choice: Mother's in New Orleans.

Pretty much everything is allowed in the Crescent City: gambling, open containers, frontal nudity, Alabama fans, hurling cabbages into crowds, and plenty of other acts pertaining to public intoxication or done in the name of acquiring MORE BEADS. One thing that is not tolerated however, is bad food. Any restaurant worth its salt simply can't survive in a town with such a superior food culture. So while there are plenty of restaurants that do indeed thrive on reputation and draw huge crowds of tourists, there aren't many that have slid into mediocrity or beyond. One restaurant in particular that still has an intimidating line extending well beyond the door is Mother's, "home of the world's best baked ham."

How did I become yet another tourist in this line? On a recent trip to NOLA revolving around a major sporting event hosted at the Superdome, I found myself in a hotel downtown with a group of about 10 family members and no car. Left to my own devices, I'd avoid the ballgame crowd and head uptown for a barbecue shrimp po' boy at Pascal's Manale or make my way to Jacques-Imo's. But with no transportation and a large group in tow, I became resigned to the fact that most of dining on this particular trip was going to happen downtown. We were a large group of tourists, so we might as well not pretend otherwise. A mere block or so from the hotel we spotted the line from Mother's and, after much deliberation (hooray, group dynamics!), we decided to at least get in line and see if it moved. And nary a better decision was made on the trip.

After only about a 20 minute wait, it was our turn to step up to the cafeteria-style counter and place our order. It's slightly chaotic, so it's good to have most of your order figured out well in advance, lest you get menu anxiety and just start pointing at things. I couldn't resist trying what Mother's is best known for: the Famous Ferdi Special po' boy. That would be Mother's signature baked ham and roast beef topped with debris and gravy. For the uninitiated, debris refers to the scraps of roast beef that fall into the gravy while it's baking in the oven. And it is divine. Two soft but crusty pieces of French bread complete this behemoth of a sandwich. The group agreed that the food and experience were well worth the wait. So Mother's qualifies as yet another renowned restaurant that is popular for good reason and able to maintain quality despite the volume. I somehow managed to finish the decadent po'boy and chase it with a few bites of pecan pie. In danger of slipping into a day-killing food coma, I had to seek out the most delicious revitalizing drink known to man: the frozen Irish Coffee at Molly's on the Market. But that's an entirely different gustatory undertaking altogether. 

The Famous Ferdi Special

Ignatius J. Reilly: another victim of the New Orleans diet