Your 25 Favorite Stories of 2025

During these last couple of weeks of 2025, we’re leaning in on nostalgia—thinking about all of the moments that made this year one for the books. 

I’ve been an editor at Country Roads for seven years now, continuing a tradition that is more than forty years in the making. And I’m continually amazed that our region continues to offer the inspiration and opportunity for what appears to be an infinite pool of storytelling. I always relish the opportunity, right around Christmas time, to review the stories published over the course of the previous twelve months and reflect on the ones that most moved me, or surprised me, or made me laugh out loud. Some that come to mind are John Wirt’s deep dive into the Louisiana artists who contributed to this year’s blockbuster film, Sinners; as well as William Browning’s ode to pimento cheese, Brian Altobello’s essay on the “Wild West” of Acadiana’s minor league baseball team, and Megan Broussard Maughan’s “Sac-a-lait” version of Lana Del Rey’s “Summertime Sadness.”

But thanks to that double-edged sword we know as data-collection, we also know which stories you, our readers, were most drawn to this year. These included celebrations of historic trailblazers like Edmond Dédé and Caroline Dormon, as well as legacy institutions like Gautreau’s and Theatre Baton Rouge. You traveled with us to Natchitoches to wander among Clementine Hunter’s murals in African House, to Opelousas to dance amid the eclectic decor of the Whirlybird, and to New Iberia to seek out mysterious, hidden tunnels ringing with legends of Lafitte. Together, we’ve explored new ways of looking at things: the best ways to attract monarch butterflies, why we should love “trash trees,” and potential futures for plantation properties.

Gosh, and there’s just so much more.

Thank you for another great year of storytelling. We look forward to all that 2026 will bring!

If your favorite story didn't make this list, or you want to revisit other stories from 2025, you can find our content all the way back to 2016 in our Issue Archive.

If you'd like to continue to read these kinds of stories in 2026 (and beyond!), be sure to subscribe here.

25. Landmark Status 

Three beloved New Orleans restaurants that have stood the test of time

Each of these restaurants started only as a dream, as all restaurants do. The painter Jacques Soulas and his partners, back in 1986, wanted to bring the casual spirit of the guinguette to the Frenchest city in America, and opened Cafe Degas. 

In 1982, Josie Gristina and Mariano “Nanou” Deraczyinski were just serving crepes at a local festival, the inception of La Crêpe Nanou. 

Anne Avegno Russell, a forty-one-year-old pregnant housewife, decided to transform her family’s vacant pharmacy into a “polite lunch” spot. “I just did it,” she told a reporter in 1982. “I wanted a bistro feel, a neighborhood restaurant feel.” The result? Gautreau’s. 

By Jordan LaHaye Fontenot

24. The Problem with Milkweed

The way we save the monarch is starting to look different

For years, scientists have warned about the alarming decline of the monarch butterfly—whose population in North America has decreased more than eighty percent since the 1990s. This loss has many causes, but the most prominent are habitat loss caused by increased logging and development, and the loss of milkweed breeding grounds. 

As recently as December 10, 2024, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service announced a proposal to list monarchs as threatened under the Endangered Species Act, with species-specific protections such as prohibiting anyone from killing or transporting the monarch and protecting properties with milkweed. (The public comment period for the proposal ends on March 12.)

The battle cry has long been “Save the Monarchs! Plant Milkweed!” And many people, captivated by these fascinating creatures, have answered the call. The problem, according to ongoing research, is that people are planting the wrong species of milkweed. 

By Donna Bush

23. The Walls Remember

The mysteries of African House, and Clementine Hunter's murals within it

Along the winding Cane River, the home of Louis Metoyer, a gen de couleur libre (free person of color) of the early nineteenth century, accounts for one of the more complicated histories of Louisiana’s many plantations. But a modest two-story building positioned across from the main house has become a focal point of the property and holds perhaps even more intrigue than the plantation itself.

Termed “African House” in the mid-twentieth century by author and archivist François Mignon, the structure was originally constructed during the 1810s under Metoyer’s orders by his enslaved laborers. Architecturally, it is syncretic, adapting the economy and functionality of French barnhouses with climate-conscious modifications—such as its roof, with its generous twelve-foot overhang, and cool brick floors—from West African coastal architecture, relieving those inside the building from Louisiana’s sweltering heat.

By Lauren Stroh

22. Bringing Dédé Home

OperaCréole, Opera Lafayette, the Historic New Orleans Collection, and the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra collaborate to premiere the oldest known opera written by an African American composer

It’s taken more than a century, but soon, New Orleans will grant Edmond Dédé the welcome home he’s long deserved. 

In a program hosted by the Historic New Orleans Collection (HNOC) in partnership with OperaCréole, Washington D.C.’s Opera Lafayette, and the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra (LPO)—Dédé’s never-before-staged, long-lost operatic masterpiece Morgiane will premiere at St. Louis Cathedral on January 23, before going on to be staged in Washington, D.C. and New York City in February. 

The work, which Dédé completed in 1887 while working in Bordeaux at Les Folies-Bordelaises, is believed to be the earliest opera written by a Black American in existence. 

By Jordan LaHaye Fontenot

21. Sojourn to Ship Island

History, wildlife, and rare beauty convene on this Mississippi isle

On a cloudless day in March, we stood in line with more than a hundred other passengers waiting to board the Ship Island ferry in Gulfport, Mississippi. It was opening week for the seasonal Ship Island Excursions ferry service, which has been shuttling beachgoers to Mississippi’s islands for ninety-nine years now.

By Kristy Christiansen

20. 300 Days of Sunshine in South Padre

A curious island with an intrepid spirit

As our small plane descended above palm tree-dotted streets, the outside promised a balmy September afternoon. Soon I would be sipping a margarita in the glow of an orange and pink evening sky as my paradisiacal weekend began. It hadn’t taken long to arrive at my tropical destination. Turns out, to the uninitiated like myself, a resort-style getaway has been hiding just off the coast of Texas—for decades.

South Padre Island is a barrier island between the Gulf and the Laguna Madre, accessible from nearby Brownsville via the Queen Isabella Causeway. Dubbed Isla de Santiago by Spanish settlers and originally home to the Karankawa Native Americans, South Padre is a surprising strip of land that has soaked up the border culture of the Lower Rio Grande Valley where it is situated and combined it with the charm of seaside living. It’s a curious mix; and if there’s a German word for “the feeling of being in multiple places at once,” I pleasantly experienced it during my weekend stay.

By Sophie Nau

19. A Campsite for Kenwood

A private park at Como Landing, dedicated to a St. Francisville icon

While Kenwood’s riverside camping days are likely behind him, Charlie Cole hasn’t forgotten the promise he made to his old friend. In December, Kenwood’s longtime connection to Como was honored when his campsite beside Como Bayou was dedicated in his name, as the Kenwood Kennon Private Park—a lasting tribute to the stewardship, friendship, and spirit of sharing that have attended Kenwood’s long tenure in St. Francisville, every step of the way. 

By James Fox-Smith

18. Can't Stop the Beat

The loss of Theatre Baton Rouge and the evolution of community theatre in the Capital Region

Though TBR was once virtually the only name in the game when it came to community theatre in Baton Rouge, that’s no longer the case. Today, there are organizations that have been around for a couple of decades (instead of almost eighty years) that have left their own imprint on the region, as well as up-and-coming companies in their infancy exploring how traditional theatre can evolve to fit different identities, expectations, and needs. Their goals may vary, but their calls to action remain consistent: support local theatre, because local theatre is a reflection and celebration of community. 

By Jacqueline DeRobertis-Braun

17. When Mississippi Calls

The power of Corey Christy's public art project in Biloxi

Corey Christy is a Biloxi boy through and through, and even a decade spent in “the deep Midwest” couldn’t change that. “I didn’t realize how unique Biloxi was until I lived other places,” he said. As a Black man, Christy had always felt a sense of welcome in diverse Biloxi. When he left, he discovered it isn’t that way everywhere. 

“I was basically ready to return the moment I left,” he said. “The Midwest was fine, and I met some wonderful people, but something was always missing. If you grew up on the water, it’s hard to be happy anywhere else.”

That draw toward home pulled even tighter as Christy watched his beloved Gulf Coast suffer Hurricane Katrina, and then soon after, the BP oil spill. “The things that make Biloxi special are still in place,” he observed. “The people are the same. And I saw it coming back better than it was before.”

By Mimi Greenwood Knight

16. Fleur D'Eden

Jeanette Belle's roses, growing in the middle of the city

Off the beaten path in New Orleans’s Central City, a rose-adorned fence offers glimpses of a secret garden through its wrought-iron pickets. Behind these gates, Jeanette Bell lives out her retirement dream, tending her flowers and herbs (and supplying both to restaurants and florists around town) in her beloved Fleur D’Eden.

By Kristy Christiansen

15. From Bagasse to Biochar

In Lakeland, Louisiana, an effort to move a mountain

In Lakeland, Louisiana, the highest point of land isn’t actually land at all. Covering forty acres at its base hand rising seventy feet above the flatlands, “Mount Bagasse,” as it’s colloquially known, is a monumental pile of sugarcane bagasse generations in the making. Bagasse—the fibrous material left over after cane juice extraction—is the residue of more than a century of sugar production at Alma Sugarcane Mill, which has been processing raw sugar from cane grown at Alma Cane Farm since 1859. Each year the mill processes two million tons of Alma-grown cane to produce around 500 million pounds of sugar, and generates 600,000 tons of bagasse. Around 250,000 tons are burned to power the mill. The rest goes on the pile. Mount Bagasse is growing by two to three acres per year.

But one industry’s waste is another’s opportunity. Enter Lakeland Biochar, a startup partnering with Alma to turn sugarcane bagasse into high-quality biochar.

By James Fox-Smith

14. Take Me to the Oldest Town in Texas

Strolling through the many histories of Nacogdoches

Awash in the early morning light, the brick streets of downtown Nacogdoches glowed a brilliant red as we walked the historic district before the town awakened. My family and I strolled down the peacefully quiet Main Street that many years ago served as a footpath for travelers on the El Camino Real de los Tejas. The 2,500-mile-long trading route connected Mexico City to Natchitoches, Louisiana. 

By Kristy Christiansen

13. Take Me to La Terre

Building a flower farm in Kiln, Mississippi from scratch

When Teri Wyly decided to start a flower farm, after ending her forty-year career as an environmental attorney, she had never grown anything before. “I was never a gardener. In fact, I used to pay a service to keep the plants alive in my office,” Wyly laughed.

You’d never know it to visit the 500 lush acres of her property, La Terre Farm in Kiln, Mississippi. Named for the nearby Bayou La Terre, what was once virgin timberland is now crisscrossed by walking trails, dotted with artesian-fed ponds, and proffering fresh flowers and greenery for the local community. The aptronym La Terre translates from French to “the earth,” connecting the environmental passions that directed Wyly’s first career to her desire for communion with it, which inspired her second.

By Mimi Greenwood Knight

12. Give It a Whirl

Opelousas's not-so-secret honky tonk

For the past twenty years, a cultural movement has been unfolding in Opelousas, Louisiana, and at its center is the Whirlybird Compound—a fever dream of a place that honors the legendary Cajun, Zydeco, and honky tonk halls that once served as cultural hubs in Acadiana. Jim Phillips’ and Christy Leichty’s tribute to Louisiana’s rich musical heritage, which began as a kind of speakeasy-style secret dancehall, has evolved into a dynamic, multifaceted creative coalition. As a host of live performances, workshops, and an artist residency program, the Whirlybird offers a space for artists of all disciplines to connect and collaborate, re-imagining the communal role these venues once played when dance halls dotted the prairies. Its DIY ethos has created its own ecosystem, which was bolstered by a new nonprofit status in 2025. 

By Ashley Hinson

11. How Derek Emerson Found His Fire (Again)

After decades of fine dining success, the acclaimed Mississippi chef reignites his passion

A California boy, young Derek Emerson always looked forward to visiting his grandparents’ house in Mississippi. He didn’t realize it at the time, but the seed to his future in food service was planted during those summers in Meridian. “My grandmother was a wonderful cook, and I loved being in her kitchen,” he recalled. “My grandfather enjoyed taking us to New Orleans, where we ate in the Grill Room, the Bon Ton Café on Fridays for lunch, Galatoire’s, and other great restaurants.” All of those influences worked to give him an appreciation for food and its memory-making powers. 

By Susan Marquez

10. Frenchtown Frissons

How a Louisiana crossing became a canvas for generations of haunted lore

“I read somewhere that when you drive under this bridge, you temporarily die,” I whispered to a friend one night. We were preparing to cross over the storied Frenchtown Bridge on our way to the Conservation Area.

“Why would you say that? Why would you say that?” she shrieked.

“Drive, just drive! Hurry!” We both erupted into giggles, before emerging, apparently uncsathed, on the other side.

This frisson associated with the Frenchtown Bridge has been a badly kept secret in Central, Louisiana for decades. Most people have a similar story: “I went out one night with some friends in high school; we’d heard the bridge is haunted. I didn’t see anything, but there was definitely something … creepy about it.” 

By Camille Doucet

9. In Defense of the Trash Tree

Every native tree has its place

Some people like to call trees like the Tung “trash trees.” Personally, I can’t bear to call any tree or plant “trash,” no matter where it comes from or what it does to my woods. They, after all, are innocent and are just doing what, evolutionarily, they were created to do: grow, seed, and spread.

No, the blame here lies on us, humans—and our inclination to intervene. Throughout all of history, humans have moved plants around, occasionally for pure beauty and enjoyment, sometimes for medicine, very often with the hopes of new cash crops and riches. Whatever the reason, pretty commonly the newly transplanted exotic plant out competes the complex local systems that have been slowly evolving together over millennia, setting things off-kilter.

By Jess Cole

8. "You a Couillon." 

Why you can only say this word in Cajun Country

The first time I realized “couillon” wasn’t part of everyone’s vocabulary, I was in my twenties, driving with friends through Texas. One was from Colorado, and the other Michigan, and I had decided that they were ready, no, worthy of listening to Megan’s Mix Volume 23 (a burnt CD I made in college) with all my favorite “festival” songs on it.

In retrospect, they must have thought I meant “festival” as in Coachella or Lollapalooza—when really, I meant Festivals Acadiens et Créoles, specifically. As we listened to Louisiana greats like Wayne Toups, Zachary Richard, and Clifton Chenier, I fielded questions like:

“Is this polka music?”

“Are there any female singers?”

And…

“What’s a ‘coo-YOHN’?”

By Megan Broussard Maughan

7. In the Longleaf's Shade

The wild and wondrous life of Caroline Dormon

In what is perhaps the most famous photograph of the revered Louisiana naturalist Caroline C. Dormon, she is captured leaning against the body of a longleaf pine. The tree is massive, its knotted base shrouded in needles. Dormon sits—knees tucked in, wearing a collared dress, glasses, hair pulled back. Her body is poised, pressed against the trunk, cheek not quite touching the surface, a thin hand splayed comfortably across the bark. Her mouth is unsmiling, a serious, thoughtful line. This is “Grandpappy,” a centuries-old longleaf pine Dormon always deemed her favorite, which still stands in the forested region of northeast Natchitoches Parish: “My very soul lives in that beautiful old gnarled and weather-beaten tree,” she once said. “Oh, my, the tales he could tell of his rugged survival through the storms of life.”

By Jacqueline DeRobertis-Braun

6. Live Oak Rising

How architect Trey Trahan is reimagining a Louisiana plantation as a place of reflection, restoration, and renewal

When the property went up for sale, Trey Trahan was ready to bite. The founder and CEO of Trahan Architects had had his eye on the Live Oak plantation site in West Feliciana Parish for years. At first, it was Trahan’s passion for historic architecture and landscapes that led him to appreciate the beauty and intrigue of the site. Later, Trahan would realize Live Oak’s façade was only the tip of the iceberg of what it had to offer the world. 

The two-story house, its brick walls painted white, stands surrounded by 250 acres of fields, forests, and ravines shaped by sinuous waterways. In the five years since Trahan closed the deal on the property in 2020, this landscape has already undergone profound transformation. Native grasses sway in the open fields; light filters through the forest canopy, dappling an understory carefully stripped of invasive species.

By Mathilde Fox-Smith

5. The Teche Tunnel

How whispers of a hidden passage beneath Mount Carmel Academy became legend along Bayou Teche

The communities along the Bayou Teche vibrate with a frequency of mystery. Their legends and lore are as much a part of the landscape as the Spanish moss and magnolias.

There is a particular tale that was whispered from one Catholic schoolgirl to the next, echoing through the halls of Mount Carmel Academy, for generations. The mystery lay beneath the floorboards upon which they walked, where a secret passageway was rumored to stretch all the way beneath the bayou itself.

By Shanna Beck Perkins

4. Passin' Time in Pascagoula

A travel guide to "Singing River" city

Barefoot and sunkissed, I was watching jet skiers fly across the Pascagoula River, lazily swinging my legs off the pier. My youngest, Bryce, patiently sat, waiting to call out, “Fish on!” as the ladies next to us dropped their crab net into the water with a splash. The setting sun sparkled in the waves and cast long shadows across the weathered boards beneath us. It was a perfect ending to a long day of exploring, and perhaps my favorite moment of our weekend in Pascagoula, Mississippi.

By Kristy Christiansen

3. The Story Behind the Rose

For twenty years, the Peggy Martin Rose has bloomed across Louisiana as a symbol of resilience

Peggy Martin’s love of gardening is inherited, coming straight down to her from her maternal grandmother, Margaret Gomez. Some of Martin’s earliest memories are of tagging along with her to local nurseries, or spending childhood summers working at her elbow as she designed and created elaborate gardens on the grounds of the family home at Conti and St. Louis Streets in New Orleans, as well as a rambling property in St. Tammany Parish, which her grandmother named Shangri-La.

By Mimi Greenwood Knight

2. The Grand Dame of Southern Style

In the enchanting world of Yvonne Lafleur's, old school elegance finds a new generation

Yvonne Lafleur has been dressing New Orleans ladies since she was twenty-two, back in 1969. From her shop, tucked into the Carrollton Riverbend neighborhood around the corner from Camellia Grill, she has built a reputation as a maven of New Orleans vogue, offering not only her custom approach to women’s fashion but a deep well of knowledge on the etiquette of Southern style.

By Susan Marquez

1. Hungry & In Shreveport . . . 

A food tour of the bustling North Louisiana hub

I usually travel with a packed schedule, not wanting to waste a minute of time exploring a new place. But on my recent road trip to Shreveport, I decided to leave spaces in my agenda. This wasn’t intended as down time, but as opportunities to just explore the North Louisiana city—particularly when it comes to food. 

I arrived with the understanding that Shreveport is a truly American city, which can sometimes bode less-than-well when it comes to culinary intrigue. Shreveport wasn’t founded until 1836—after the Louisiana Purchase and after Louisiana had already become a state. Its namesake, Captain Henry Miller Shreve, a member of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, cleared a blockage from the Red River, making it navigable. Today, many of the nineteenth century storefronts remain, alongside the modern interstates. But even without the confluence of cultures that the eighteenth century brought to South Louisiana, Shreveport has many long-standing restaurants that suggest a multi-generational culinary legacy. These were the restaurants I was most interested in exploring, as well as those on the path to longevity. 

By Liz Williams