Or that it put the dollar sign on U.S. currency?

Or that its distinctive architecture is Spanish, not French?

It's been home to this country's first Princess of Monaco (no, not Grace Kelly), yet one of its most famous French restaurateurs really wasn't a count - just a wine salesman?

Since a Royal Street pharmacist is credited with concocting the first American cocktail in the 1830s, what better way to explore the heart of the city than to take a Cocktail Tour.

"This is not a pub crawler," guide Joe Gendusa said as we set out on a four-hour walking tour that covered much of the 6-by-13-block Quarter. I was his only tourist, so Gendusa really gave me the cook's - or should I say bartender's - tour, taking me to renowned bars and restaurants while sprinkling in such landmarks as St. Louis Cathedral, Jackson Square, and Exchange Alley.

Gendusa, 68, a retired teacher and licensed tour guide who was born and raised here, made it light and breezy, like a Scarlett O'Hara: Southern Comfort, cranberry juice, and a slice of lime. But he mixed in dashes of history as though he were making a Vieux Carré cocktail (Tennessee Williams' favorite drink): rye whiskey, cognac, vermouth, Benedictine, and two bitters over ice.

Here are some of the ingredients that give the French Quarter its body and texture and make it so smooth and easy going down. Just remember that its history and lore have evolved over generations, and that the stories, like most good cocktails, might have a twist or two.

The land of Dixie. In 1835, Gendusa said, a French bank printed $10 bills with the word Dix - pronounced deece, for 10 - but no numbers on them. When those who didn't speak French came into the Quarter to do business, they referred to the bills as "dixes" or "dixies" and the Quarter as the "land of the dixie." Today, there's a plaque outside the former Citizen's State Bank, at Royal and Iberville Streets - now it's a Walgreens.

Sign of the times. Irish merchant Oliver Pollock was the Robert Morris of the South, raising money to finance the American Revolution. In the late 1770s, Pollock came up with the dollar sign to differentiate U.S. currency from French and Spanish bills. Before and after the war, he lived for years in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, and he spent some time in Philadelphia.

Spanish flair. It's called the French Quarter, but the Spanish built it - three times, from 1762 to 1800. Fires in 1788 and 1794 destroyed many of the buildings in the former French colony, and the Spanish rebuilt after both of them before the French regained control.

"Typical Spanish architecture has a carriageway leading to a courtyard," Gendusa said, pointing out the features of Brennan's, one of the Quarter's famous restaurants, in a building dating to the late 1700s. "The business was on the first floor and the residence was upstairs."

Balconies with wrought-iron railings stretch across the second floor and overhang the sidewalks - perfect for lounging and watching the world go by - giving the Quarter its distinctive look. Gendusa noted that balconies supported by posts are called galleries - a tasty tidbit for cocktail talk.

Saints and sinners. While the Spanish built the Quarter, the French named its streets. "The French had a sense of humor," Gendusa said. "Alternate streets are named for saints and for the king's illegitimate sons."

Princess Alice. Alice Heine was born Feb. 10, 1858, in a townhouse at 910 Royal St. Married at age 17 and a wealthy widow at 21, she married Prince Albert I in 1889, becoming the first American-born Princess of Monaco - 66 years before Grace Kelly of Philadelphia.

Royal airs. In 1918, a colorful French wine merchant named Arnaud Cazenave opened the restaurant that bears his name and set the bar (no pun intended) for the Quarter's fine-dining scene. "He would put on airs, and his friends would sit around and drink and call him 'Count,' but he was no count," Gendusa says. "He was known to drink 20 cups of coffee a day, always with a shot of brandy, and every night he'd have 20 glasses of champagne."

Concocting the cocktail. Antoine Peychaud was an apothecary who tinkered to produce refreshing drinks for his fellow shop owners after a long day. Since he used bitters in his prescriptions, he added a few drops to Sazerac cognac, mixing them in a coquetier (pronounced kah-kuh-tyay), or egg cup. Voila - the first American cocktail. Peychaud's Bitters are still made and sold here, but the drink was soon embellished with absinthe (which was later replaced with Pernod), sugar, and a twist of lemon and came to be known as a Sazerac. When cognac became difficult to get, rye whiskey replaced it. Though it's usually served in a rocks glass, the drink is not made with ice - it's meant to be sipped.

Home recipe. In 1874, saloon worker M.W. Heron mixed the flavors of peach, orange, vanilla and cinnamon with a barrel of whiskey and came up with Southern Comfort. It's his signature on the bottle, beneath the label with the Currier & Ives print of Woodland Plantation, which today is a B&B south of here. "It's really a liqueur; it's 70 proof." Gendusa said. He added a bartender's tip: "You can't add just sweet to it; you need to cut it with something like club soda." For example, Woodland Plantation Punch is Southern Comfort, pineapple juice, club soda, and a few drops of Grenadine.

Saints and sinners II. Catholics have worshipped at the site of St. Louis Cathedral, across from Jackson Square, since 1727, making it the oldest continuously operating cathedral in the country. The Spanish built the current cathedral in 1794, but its three steeples were added years later to give it a French look. It's flanked by the Cabilodo, on the left, where the Louisiana Purchase was signed, and the Presbytere, or "Priest House," on the right.

Just as interesting are Pirate's Alley, between the Cathedral and the Cabilodo, and St. Anthony's Garden, behind the church. William Faulkner wrote his first book, Sherwood Anderson and Other Famous Creoles, in a house on the alley. And in the garden, pirates would duel - not to the death, but till blood was drawn - and sell their booty through the wrought-iron fence, coining the phrase "fencing" stolen goods.