Entry No. 100 — the New Orleans file — filed under: sno-ball
Hansen's Sno-Bliz
Ernest Hansen built his block-ice shaver himself in the 1930s and didn't get a U.S. patent on the design until 1950; the machine currently doing the work dates to 1939 and is still behind the counter. It cuts the ice almost hollow, so the from-scratch syrups — cream of nectar, cream of chocolate, spearmint, orangeade, Ernest's Own root beer — soak all the way through instead of pooling at the bottom of the cup. Granddaughter Ashley Hansen reopened the cinderblock stand in 2006, after Katrina and after both founders died, and still cooks the syrups to Mary Hansen's recipes. The James Beard Foundation handed it an America's Classics award in 2014. It runs roughly March into fall and goes dark all winter — the shop is currently advertising its 87th season.
→ Three more weird eats & drinks in New Orleans — never the same twice
The story
Ernest Hansen was a machinist by trade and a tinkerer by temperament, and in the 1930s he built an ice-shaving machine so his family could have sno-balls without anyone cranking a handle. His wife Mary parked the contraption on the sidewalk under a Chinaball tree and sold shaved ice under her own syrups for two cents — a penny above the going rate. The business dates itself to 1934. The U.S. government did not grant Ernest his patent on the "Ice Shaving Machine" until July 1950, sixteen-odd years after the thing had already gone into commercial service, and the machine doing most of the work today is one he built in 1939. It is behind the counter, and it is loud.
What it makes is the whole argument. Ashley's father Gerard described a Sno-Bliz as ice shaved so fine it comes out almost hollow, which is why the syrup goes in layered as the cup fills rather than poured over the top: flavor the whole way down instead of a sweet puddle at the bottom. The syrups are cooked on site to Mary's recipes — cream of nectar, cream of chocolate, spearmint, orangeade, Ernest's Own root beer. Ask for a sundae and the vocabulary escalates through Duper, Baby Duper and Super Duper, each one buried under ice, syrup, cream, crushed pineapple, marshmallow and a cherry.
The stand moved several times before settling into the cinderblock building at Tchoupitoulas and Bordeaux, where the sign still offers to "air condition your tummy." Ernest and Mary, married seventy-two years, both died after Hurricane Katrina without making it back to the city. Their granddaughter Ashley — who had already spent close to a decade working alongside them — reopened the shop in early summer 2006 and runs it now. The James Beard Foundation gave it an America's Classics award in 2014.
What it's like
There is usually a line, it is usually on the sidewalk in full sun, and it moves at the pace of one sno-ball being built at a time, because that is literally the bottleneck — each cup is shaved and layered to order. Use the wait to settle the flavor argument; the counter is not the place to deliberate. It's a Square setup, so cards and phones are fine. There's no real seating, so people eat standing on the sidewalk, on the stoop, or in their cars. Inside it's small and cold and papered with decades of family photographs and clippings, and the 1939 machine is right there running like a woodshop. Then eat fast: ice that fine collapses within minutes.
The move: Go on a weekday afternoon rather than a Saturday and split the labor: one of you holds the spot in the sidewalk line, the other reads the flavor board and decides. Get a cream of nectar and an Ernest's Own root beer, then drive five minutes upriver to the Fly and eat them on the levee grass watching container ships swing around the bend before the ice loses its structure.
📍 Before you go Season is the constraint, not cash — it's a Square setup that takes cards and Apple Pay, but the stand only runs roughly March through October and closes for winter, and open days shift. The shop's own site points you to @snobliz on Instagram for current hours and weekly specials, so check the morning you go. Street parking only in a residential stretch of Tchoupitoulas, and the line spills down the block on hot afternoons. Phone (504) 891-9788.
- 📍 New Orleans
- 💸 $
- ⚡ Up for anything
- 🌗 Indoors
Where: 4801 Tchoupitoulas St, New Orleans, LA 70115
Hours: Added 2026-08-26 — confirm current hours before you go.
⚠ Seasonal or scheduled — always check before you go.
Pair it with
- Creole Creamery — Half a mile inland on Prytania and open till 10 or 11 at night, so it picks up the frozen-dessert evening after Hansen's shuts for the afternoon — or for the winter.
- The Tree of Life (Etienne de Boré Oak) — The Audubon Park oak is about a mile upriver and its low, climbable limbs are the closest thing to seating that Hansen's doesn't have.
- Ted's Frostop — Another Uptown survivor built on house-made root beer and a giant sign, but it closes at 5 — so make the Frostop lunch and Hansen's dessert, not the other way round.
More weird in New Orleans
Good to know
Is it open year-round?
No. The stand runs roughly March through October and goes dark all winter, and the open days shift within the season. The shop's own page lists hours but points you to @snobliz on Instagram for what's actually happening that week, so check the morning you go — or call (504) 891-9788.
Cash only?
No, that's the other New Orleans institution. It's a Square setup, so cards and Apple Pay work. This is also a cheap outing — a sno-ball is a few dollars, and the sundae upgrades (Duper, Baby Duper, Super Duper) are the only real way to spend more.
How do I get there and where do I park?
4801 Tchoupitoulas Street, at Bordeaux, in a residential stretch Uptown about ten minutes' drive upriver from the Garden District. Street parking only, and on a hot afternoon the line spills down the block, so allow more time than the distance suggests.
What should I order the first time?
Something from the house canon rather than the novelty end: cream of nectar is the signature, and Ernest's Own root beer is made in-house like the rest of the syrups. Cream of chocolate, spearmint and orangeade are the other long-standing favorites.
Can I take one somewhere to eat it?
Only a very short distance. The ice is shaved almost hollow, which is what lets the syrup soak all the way through — and also what makes it collapse into slush within minutes. Anything past a five-minute walk or drive and you're drinking it.
Plan a visit & invite your people →
Further reading: snobliz.square.site · Wikipedia · southernfoodways.org
last checked: 2026-08-26