Louisiana Lagniappe
So there I was in Orange Beach, Alabama, spending a few days with some reprobate American friends I’d met in Okinawa, Japan.
It’s a long story and to protect the guilty, I’m not going to tell. Just accept that when you travel the world, sampling food and drink and whiling away the hours on random beaches, you meet strange folk and form bonds that can even overcome the darkest bourbon and brandy dreams of perfection.
One member of this group set up a luncheon for a dozen or so fellow travelers at a fine restaurant called Louisiana Lagniappe. Lagniappe is a Cajun word meaning “Before we attempt to kill some gators barehanded, let’s have another drink.”
No, that’s not quite accurate, but close. Lagniappe means: A little something extra, and to save you the frustration, its pronounced lan yáp.
Louisiana Lagniappe is a little something extra in so many ways. First of all the restaurant is located on the second story of a large orange stucco building, with an imperial twist of white stairs to take you up. There may also be an elevator, but being of sound body, if not mind, I raced up those stairs with all the speed of a hesitant, one-legged monkey.
And once you step through the doors, if you’re not wearing a tux, you’ll feel underdressed, even though Louisiana Lagniappe, overlooking a Marina, caters to the casual dressers. But, I did hear a couple of sport fishermen, when offered a seat at one of the white linen draped tables say, “We better just get the food to go. We’re not properly dressed.”
Yes, stiffly starched white linen, cloth napkins, and bright silverware, with wait staff attired in black and white livery, would give one an edgy feeling in wrinkled shorts, gym shoes and stained Hawaiian shirts.
So what about the food? Excellent seafood, which is what most of our so-called friends ordered.
First came a New Orleans staple, plates of light and fluffy beignets, crowned with white, powdered sugar. Been to the Café du Monde in New Orleans across from Jackson Square? Louisiana Lagniappe’s beignets will whisk you back at first bite.
And then libations? Mais oui, bien sûr. I soon grasped a narrowly stemmed glass of Mimosa in my eagerly trembling fingers. One sip and I knew another would surely follow. My lunch companion opt for Milk Punch. Heavenly gifts from Bacchus’s little know brother Belchus.
And then the food arrived. I, being a delicate eater, and not so delicate a drinker, dined on a cup of crab bisque and an accompanying salad, while my traveling companion chose eggs benedict on crab cakes, with a generous side of cheese grits. These choices could not stand the test of my envious eyes, so in mid meal, we swapped plates.
After all, I planned on writing this blog and it was only reasonable to taste everything, a thought which occurred to others at the table, causing them to stop all conversation and guard their plates.
The crab bisque was superb, delightfully rich and tasty, with an abundance of crab. The salad, with very light vinaigrette, was crisp and refreshing.
Eggs benedict with crab cakes were also gifts from the gods and by the end of the meal, every plate at the table was empty and every mouth owned a smile. And everyone ordered another drink.
The Louisiana Lagniappe really is a little something extra, from the elegant décor, to the liveried, polite, and well-trained wait staff to the sumptuous food.
Can’t make it to Orange Beach? The first location is in Dustin, Florida.
Pick one and you’ll pick it again and again. I swear by my formerly full glasses of Mimosa.
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