A note from the Bitches: this restaurant is now closed.
Like a lot of people, I found my drinking sea legs in college. But I had pretty good captains to chart those waters.
I’m not talking Captain Morgan here (although there was certainly a lot of that), but rather two very dear guy friends who purchased, mixed, poured, and – eventually – collected me off the floor for four years.
Fontaine, one half of my dearest duo, now lives in D.C. with his lovely wife (my former dormmate and sorority sister). Nate, the other half, lives in Salt Lake City and decided to finally pay us visit a few weeks ago.
Naturally, it was a liquid weekend. By brunch on Sunday I was so hung-over I could barely keep my head off the table. But these boys? Oh, they were throwing back 32-ounce Hurricanes and guzzling Purple Haze straight from the tap.
I picked The Cajun Experience—a bold, confident name for a restaurant if I’ve ever heard one—because who better to judge a new Cajun spot than a true Louisiana soul? Fontaine was born and raised in Slidell, just outside of New Orleans, and his mom is from Lafayette. Bourbon and beignets run in his blood.
The restaurant is halfway underground (literally a hidden gem, if you will) in the basement of a brownstone a block from Lauriol Plaza. The entire place is pretty small, with a single dining room and a little bar off to the side. Nevertheless, the restaurant apparently packs them in and even hosts big events such as Crawfish boils and happy hours.