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Bon Temps!

 

Acadiana's High Style, Big Easy, Cajun Cuisine

   
by: Alex MacLennan    

Acadiana is Cajun country. In the late 1700s, French-Canadians from Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island (an area then called Acadia) fled the British and landed in Louisiana. There they established Acadiana – the rolling country that makes up nearly a third of Louisiana. They married and intermingled, and in the resulting mélange of French and Southern culture, Cajun culture was born.

From the little alligator that follows you as you scroll across the restaurant's menu, it’s clear that the team who created Acadiana wanted to infuse Washington, DC, with a little bit of that unique culinary vibe. Though the website is clearly going for a soothing, feet-up-on-the-prow vibe, the actual restaurant, while peaceful, is a bit fancier than that. The décor is supposed to evoke both Southern plantation and ramshackle oyster bar, but the feel is a bit more subdued. Perhaps the tastes of the conventioneers, tourists and K Street lobbyists who seem to make up the majority of the clientele were (wisely) taken into account.

It’s not all safe play, however. As with the menu, the décor dances between safely classy and “nawlins” dark. A wrought iron gate, banquets the colors of a subdued king-cake, and two gorgeous, almost funereal, urns turn the conventioneer-theory on its head.

As does much of Chef Jeff Tunks’ cooking. Tunks spent nearly four years in New Orleans, and his love for the classic low-country flavors shines through. His love of the region is evident as well: After Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, Tunks wanted to do something that honored the city he loved, helped the people struggling there and shared his commitment to Southern "bayou" cuisine.

In Jeff’s own words, “Acadiana was set to open Sept. 12, 2005, in the heart of the nation’s capital. In lieu of an official opening and in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, we made it the po’ boy headquarters of the fundraising efforts. On opening day, my chef friends and I made carryout po’ boys all day for a donation of $25 each. We developed two successful fundraisers titled ‘Po’ Boy Power!’ for the benefit of Hurricane Katrina victims. The first fundraiser was held 12 days after the storm hit the Gulf Coast. Our efforts helped raise $27,000 within a two hour time span.” Acadiana is true to its roots.

Every meal starts with a free round of “slap your momma good” biscuits – flaky and salty, crisp but light, gifted with a generous butter glaze. They arrived, unexpected, with cream cheese and a high-kicking sweet pepper jelly. Lunch features a variety of po’ boys, each more decadent (try the twelve napkin roast beef version) than the last, and a prix fixe brunch mixes Cajun cooking into an otherwise traditional mix. Don’t stick with main courses, though: Across all mealtimes, appetizers shine.

In particular, I liked the trio of soups: a perfect sampler served in tiny white crocks that the servers overturn to fill angular dishes to the brim. Turtle soup (a delicacy and a near-staple in many Louisiana homes) is probably the signature of the three. For many Northerners (including me), the idea of turtle soup might give pause. Turns out, turtle farming is a huge business – in China alone, the farmed turtle trade is reportedly worth $750 million. Closer to home and more welcome on the mental palate? Acadiana’s turtles are green snappers, farm-raised, from North Carolina. Legend has it that each turtle offers seven distinct flavors of meat. I didn’t get all that, but the turtle meat is seriously divine. Incredibly moist almost velvety, the turtle graces a soup rich-brown and gravy-like, stirring with a subterranean curl of sherry. Roasted sweet corn and blue crab soup had a chowder-heavy heft, with sweet lumps of crab, bullets of still-crisp corn and lots of diced red bell pepper. Finally, the smoked chicken and andouille sausage gumbo was perfectly smoky and low-country salted with just enough rice to give it a properly dirty feel. As starters go, you couldn’t ask for anything more.

Sticking to the trios, Acadiana offers a threesome of deviled eggs. The best of the three is the simplest – deviled eggs with “Louisiana choupique” caviar – the saltiness of tiny black caviar beads (from a Louisiana bowfin fish) adding a briny saltiness to the sweetness of the egg. Crabmeat ravigote (an herbed, gently acidic sauce) also toggles between sweet and piquant. The third, and most unusual, was a spiky shrimp remoulade.

As an aside, we each paired our appetizers with a drink from the bar. Best among them – the crisp, light and kicky basil belle, which reminded me of a cleaner, fresher mojito. Built around Tanqueray’s lime-infused Rangpur gin, it’s like a good Southern girl gone deliciously wrong.

One of Tunks' favorite appetizers, and rightly so, is the plate of hugely plump, grit-free charbroiled oysters that arrive swimming in garlic butter – heavy with charred, nutty, salty Romano cheese – and served with warm French bread. I’ve eaten a fair amount of oysters in my day, but these are among the best ever to cross my lips.

Finally, we sampled a beet salad with an array of pickled beets so thin they looked like carpaccio, a scatter of goat cheese, and sparkling pecan vinaigrette. To the chef’s credit, each element played excellently off the others.

But in all cases, the appetizers get better the bolder the flavors they contain. It’s a theme that runs through Acadiana’s carefully pared, deftly assembled menu. Let Tunks run loose with flavors, and you’ll be greatly rewarded in turn.

The red snapper amandine is a perfect example. It’s good – the fish is moist and flavorful, the corn pudding sweet, but the flavors are a bit too gentle for my sense of how Louisiana should taste. Tunks is a big guy, and it’s when he lets himself loose with bolder, richer flavors that the restaurant truly shines.

Tunks’ grilled gulf redfish (with a hearty jambalaya risotto) comes closer, and his Louisiana seafood gumbo takes you there. Steeped in giant bits of crab, crawfish and delicate oysters, the gumbo holds all of the appetizer’s root-deep flavor and ups the volume to make it a highly satisfying meal.

Also outstanding was “grillades and grits,” starring sautéed veal medallions perched atop a craggy mound of bright and creamy jalapeno cheese grits. The veal delivered a strong, almost gamey flavor, and the grits (according to my very Southern boyfriend) were even better. Braced with jalapeno but not too strong, they held their texture and the sharp, creamy essence of cheddar, while wild mushrooms – all in a pool of authentic “pan gravy” – moored it to the ground. It perfectly complemented the restrained zydeco that played just inside hearing range.

In the end, it came down to Tunks' award-winning New Orleans style barbeque shrimp. Served in a primordial fan across their plate, five mammoth shrimp arrive crowned with rosemary and served with heads and tails still on. The shrimp are bathed and adrift in a light brown sauce that derailed my intent for dessert. Fulfilling God’s intent for shrimp-shell stock, Lee & Perrin’s, butter and Creole seasoning, the sauce makes light of any attempt not to eat the attendant hunk of – you guessed it – warm, crusty French bread. Acadian’s barbeque shrimp is not one to let get away!

So, Acadiana delivers. The service was ideal, and although ourserver seemed a bit overzealous at first, his thoroughness ultimately paid incredible rewards – each item, as served, was presented with a clear description, a gentle warning if the plate was still hot and a smooth sweeping style.

Even the desserts come with gentle warnings: Eat your Beignets quickly, while the pastry remains hot. Thanks to heaping powdered sugar and a chicory coffee-infused cream, devouring the ample, puffed squares won’t be a problem at all.

Overall, Acadiana offers a highly gratifying experience. And if you need to feel good about the expense, Tunks’ charitable commitment didn’t end with the po’ boy fundraiser in 2005. He and his partners are taking part in the third annual ComPassion Golf Tournament on April 28. So you can feel good about every shrimp, oyster and deviled egg you enjoy.

Acadiana is located at 901 New York Ave. NW. Call 202-408-8848 or visit the website www.acadianarestaurant.com for more information.

Alex MacLennan is a local writer and editor. His first novel, “The Zookeeper,” was published May 2006.