service helps a lot in the restaurant business. a server’s friendly demeanor can convince a small group to order two desserts instead of one, or stick around for one last drink instead of sneaking out the door for a drink. Service is what keeps a customer coming back to a restaurant again and again, rather than letting the experience fade into a sea of other options. a welcoming staff provides the connection; the big dishes are sauce.
The same can be said for cayman cafe, which opened its second location in the old rosemont space, next to the rudolph meat market, this fall. The first location opened on Live Oak Street in 2002, when chef-owner Ivan Pugh stuffed all his Cajun food from a swamp into a dilapidated fast-food restaurant. Pugh’s first location lacked aesthetics, but it was close to downtown and even closer to Baylor Medical Center, and his friendly staff and reputable food from him earned him a boisterous lunch crowd.
Reading: Alligator cafe deep ellum
That location moved to Casa Linda Plaza in 2012, and Pugh soon announced that he had also taken over the small block building that juts out of a dilapidated parking lot in Deep Ellum. While a significant amount of the old Rosemont remains – the lines of the slate gray joinery, the blond maple bar, the modern round stools that will cradle you in a way no other stool has cradled – Pugh has erased the soft creamy tones. . from the past of the dining room. yellow-green paint illuminates the walls, almost as brightly as the purple neon sign that hangs near the bar. what doesn’t shine is covered with silver imitation crocodile leather. TVs flicker to sports, and it doesn’t take long to find a stuffed alligator head or two.
While it’s safe to say that the Deep Ellum location bears little resemblance to the Cajun restaurants that dot Louisiana, Pugh’s cooking is in line with what you might expect from one of the casual cafes. the closer you get to those tried-and-true culinary traditions, the better the food will be in your own restaurant.
perhaps nothing comes closer than boudin pugh served on a bed of kale. Boudin (pronounced boo-dan) is the official fast food of rural Louisiana. gas stations serve pork tripe stuffed with a mixture of rice and various parts of pork as a riff on French boudin blanc, then sell it as a roadside snack.
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The hard part is the filling, according to Pugh, who says he tried making boudin several times at the restaurant before deciding it was easier to buy in Louisiana from the people who perfected it.
in dallas it’s frozen, then poached in boiling water when a customer places an order. this link is finished on the grill for some color and dropped onto your plate with some veggies for an appetizer.
A purist will tell you that boudin should be eaten within a few feet of the gas station where it’s purchased, and squished out of the casing like toothpaste from a tube. Tradition is important, but it’s undeniable that the rich meat and rice sausage is enhanced when served over savory vegetables spiked with vinegar. ordering boudin balls (same mixture rolled into golf balls and breaded and fried) is another option, but it’s dry and inferior.
The other usual suspects are here. It’s hard to get mad at the oyster po’boy, especially when you have rice and beans on the side. the roll is loaded with oysters, lettuce, and tomato, and ask for the creamy mustard labeled “gator sauce” at the condiment station. the beans are made with rudolph’s andouille sausage and finished with a clove rice ball.
sometimes pugh strays further from his cajun inspiration and his dishes suffer. your lower lip may quiver, for example, if you’ve paid extra to garnish your étouffée with dirty rice, only to find the grains nearly flawless. there’s some ground pork scattered around, but no liver or other bits of offal to give it the earthy, mineral flavors that taint dirty rice.
a bowl of gumbo suffered further one night, smelling of seafood well past its prime. another night the smell disappeared, replaced by the rich scent of chocolate brown roux, andouille, and garlic. the stew smelled delicious, but it lacked a certain vibrancy. If you agree, you should not worry, because the solution is simple. Pugh and her kitchen staff practice culinary voodoo.
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decline the offer to have the kitchen add the chunky hot sauce directly to your plate and ask for a bowl to be brought to your table so you can add the sauce in increments. be careful but have no fear: the mix of hot sauce and hot peppers falls somewhere between the subtle shimmer of tabasco and a bite of the top of a fresh jalapeño.
voodoo sauce works wonders with an étouffée served with shrimp or crab. and I don’t see the harm in lifting the bun into a stuffed muffeletta with shredded ham and olive tapenade for a little voodoo spread underneath. in fact, while it can turn your cheese grits an odd shade of cream, there’s not much on the menu that wouldn’t be improved by just a little sauce. consider the mandatory order for each table.
If you’re craving fried seafood, choose the coconut shrimp instead of the popcorn for a bigger, sweeter bite. the catfish is farm-raised and tastes a little flat, though it’s not greasy and some prefer the mild flavor, and the oysters stay crisp when other dishes get weak. If any of the combinations of fried foods, soups and sandwiches on the menu don’t suit you, say so. the staff seem almost excited to make substitutions.
during my last visit I ordered two desserts, hoping to find one that had half the personality and character of that voodoo sauce. I finished with a chocolate cake with a collapsed meringue and a terrible banana pudding. even so, the dessert order was revealing.
Step into the shoes of a young, soft-spoken food runner who is asked to deliver a banana pudding with no bananas at all, as if the restaurant was suddenly byobananas. in a confident but appropriately apologetic manner, he did just that, earning himself the table.
pudding was less well-liked, with a stiff consistency closer to cannoli filling than the cascading ribbons of glistening dairy that made jello pudding commercials so alluring. the plate was left unfinished, but everyone left wanting to return, maybe for that oyster po’boy and maybe the boudin, but more likely because the staff have a bit of voodoo of their own.
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