Beausoleil’s fried chicken livers appetizer. The restaurant is credited for helping to change Baton Rouge’s restaurant culture while also turning out upscale takes on rustic Southern cuisine like this. Photo by Collin Richie
When Cody and Sam Carrollrevealed the opening menu for their New Orleans restaurant Sac-a-Lait, a Times-Picayune food critic quipped on Twitter: “I see a $30 appetizer—but no sac-a-lait.”
The Carrolls, riding high on the popularity of their New Roads restaurant Hot Tails, planned to step into a bigger market via a Baton Rouge restaurant last year that never got off the ground. Instead, they set their sights on the Warehouse District in New Orleans, opening Sac-a-Lait in late March. And there was plenty of chatter about how they would fare alongside similar restaurants nearby, such as Donald Link’s Cochon and seafood-centric Peche.
To the local foodies, it might be seen as another restaurant turning humble country food into expensive haute cuisine. Clearly, the Times-Pic food critic is growing tired of the trend. (Side note about the tweet: Sac-a-lait is a game fish, which makes it illegal to sell commercially and in restaurants.)
Link helped build the movement with Cochon, serving up contemporary takes on the rustic cooking of his homeland of rural Acadiana. After it became one of the hippest restaurants in the Big Easy, Link attempted to recreate the concept in Lafayette in 2012. The venture failed summarily. Some argued that trying to dress up Cajun cooking for a bunch of Cajuns was his biggest misstep.
Perhaps that was partly right. New Orleans and its influx of tourists seemed at the time like a better sell for trendy and modern Cajun fare. Link turned his efforts back to New Orleans with Peche (and even served as a sounding board for the Carrolls with their move into the market).
Yet while Cochon failed in Lafayette, the Hub City hasn’t snubbed its nose at the contemporary Cajun and Southern restaurants that have followed, such as Social Southern Table and Bar, Johnson’s Boucaniere and Bread & Circus Provisions. Those restaurants have all made their mark against a backdrop of tried-and-true Cajun restaurants where the gumbo still comes with a packet of saltines and nary a charcuterie board of house-cured meats is in sight.
That same business model is thriving in Baton Rouge, too. Restaurant IPO’s “Southern tapas” include deviled eggs topped with cornmeal-fried oysters. Beausoleil’s proudly local menu offers shredded rabbit with spätzle and boudin balls with red bean hummus, not to mention its addictive pork rinds.
At the new City Pork Brasserie & Bar, I’ve tried smoked catfish pâte, hog’s head cheese and a comforting side of stewed greens and bacon served in a Mason jar.
Classing up what would otherwise be found at a roadside gas station or in your grandmother’s kitchen seems to be the new culinary direction in south Louisiana.
Taking a look at the Carrolls’ Sac-a-Lait menu, you’ll notice deviled crab, smoked frog legs, alligator sausage and a crab boil crème fraiche. The price points are higher than your average Cajun joint, with entrees at $20-$30 and a stuffed flounder for $48.
But make no mistake, the Carrolls and other chefs aren’t making dainty what was once robust and slapped on a Styrofoam plate. It’s just as hefty and meaty as your mom used to make.
However, these chefs are applying modern techniques and gastronomy, playing with contrasts and textures, with a side of pickled mirliton or kumquats, or dressed with a dollop of house-made mustard or cane syrup gastrique. And I’d argue they are doing a better job supporting local farmers, fisherman and businesses in the process. Heck, while a typical Cajun joint still swears by Bud Light and Michelob Ultra, these newer restaurants are promoting local breweries and cooking with the beer, too.
There is still a hill to climb selling modern Cajun and Southern food to locals, but the end result is something inventive, celebratory of all-things-local and very much delicious. It’s elevating tradition for a modern palate. And while some of our south Louisiana traditions die off, these restaurants are helping our regional cooking last for the long haul.
