CAP’N ANNOUNCER: Contrary to the descriptions in the tabloids, the boys do like to dress up as prancy pirates at home and then chase their wives around yelling “Hand over ye carnal treasure, lassie!” Unfortunately for them, they are no match for their wives, who in turn make them scrub the decks until they promise never again to yell “carnal treasure” when the windows are open. Once the poop decks are clean, they then must take their ladies out to dinner leaving their eye patches, frilly shirts and stuffed parrots at home. Frankly, it’s embarrassing.



BURT SMYTHE: Arghh – walk the plank Cap’n Announcer.



ANNOUNCER: Shut up!



BART SMYTHE: So, we visited Jambalaya in Parkland this week to get into the pirate mood by eating delicacies once enjoyed by the likes of Jean Lafitte, Dominique You and Renato Beluche. New Orleans, or Creole, food has that scoundrel feel to it — spicy, sassy, with that right kick to the face. And Jambalaya caters to that mood with a dark, steamy interior plus a sun deck out back with plenty of New Orleans kitsch. It’s a place any pirate feels at home.



BURT: For the record, I look good in an eye patch. And aren’t we supposed to be captured by pirates and writing this in pirate-speak?



BART: Shiver me … who are we kidding? We aren’t cool enough to talk pirate. And our pirate names are dumb.

On the appetizer list, which arrives pasted to an old vinyl record, Jambalaya offers all of the usual suspects — alligator, fried okra, salmon cheesecake, and crawfish. But, what’s cool is the flash fried avocado slices with a Cajun dipping sauce — unique, sinful, salty and sweet.



JASON: What do you mean we aren’t cool? I started with a cup of chicken and Andoullie sausage gumbo — what the establishment lists as the “best hang-over cure ever.” I can’t speak to that, but the gumbo has a simple taste with flavorful broth, decent chunks of meat, and mild Cajun spice.



JAKE: I had the same starter salad on both my recent visits. Day 1 — the salad arrived crisp and fresh. Day 2 — the salad limped over on its last legs of life. Those of Asian philosophy might say the Chi was beaten to death with a cat o-nine tails. Neither salad, though, inspired — we’re talking a small plate of greens, a couple (I do  not exaggerate) slivers of almond and one tomato.



JASON: Maybe if we aren’t cool enough to be pirates, we could do this column in Yacht Club talk. We must be that cool. I do say, the Boom Cat grabbed my fancy. The flash fried Louisiana catfish reminded me of mummy — all white and smooth, served over rice and smothered with crawfish Etoufee. My taste buds felt perky and robust — the fish bright, clean and sweet. As an aside, my fiancé Bunny’s father navigated the Boom Cat in the 1973 Americas Cup.



JAKE: Lovely — an all time low for us.

The crawfish Jambalaya delighted, however, the crawfish was mostly bite size … for toddler pirates. Sautéed with peppers, onion, mushrooms, Cajun spices and served over rice, the entire production tasted hearty with a small kick (really small). I’d like to have had more meat, but I still didn’t finish the plate. The flavors melded nicely together.



JASON: Coast Guard talk? Sea Scouts?

The Jamba burger arrived on a long bun — a blend of meat and spices mixed like meat loaf and cut in a rectangle to fit on the bun. Served with cheese, lettuce and tomato, the burger not only provides a food alternative to non-Creole lovers, or kids, but also is a reason to visit for any burger fan. Not spicy, the meat still has a distant Cajun flavor with plenty of beef and little filler. You are safe to run this restaurant up the mast — it’s worthy of flying next to the skull and crossbones. Arrgh — Jambalaya is worth all of the gold in Davy Jones’ Locker. Shiver me timbers, I can’t wait to go back.



JAKE: Sometimes I hate this job.



JASON: I bet Jambalaya hates our job, too.

Jambalaya

508 Garfield Street, Parkland, 253.539.3600.

Hours: Sundays, noon to 6 p.m., closed Mondays, Tues-Thurs, 11 a.m. to 2 p.m., 4-8 p.m., Fri & Sat, noon to 10 p.m.

Scene: The inside is dark and sultry with a stage area for blues bands. Out back, the sun deck with plenty of shady spots is a favorite summer respite.

Menu: Typical modern day Creole foods from New Orleans — all mildly spiced.

Drinkies: Beers, wines and spirits — but no bar area, drinks served at tables only.



 

Seafood Gumbo >>> $7-$10

Po’Boy Sandwiches >>> $7-$10

Red Beans & Rice >>> $11

Crawfish Salad >>> $14