Bihari Kabab at Bundu Khan Kabab House

This blog entry was originally posted 27 July 2010 on the www.29-95.com website.

Bihar is a state in northern India. Its population is mainly Hindu, and therefore the cuisine is traditionally vegetarian. So it's ironic that one of the most popular dishes in neighboring Pakistan is a grilled beef dish called bihari kabab.

Bihari Kabab

The provenance of bihari kabab is disputed, but it likely originated among the non-vegetarian population of Bihar, and sometime later became popular as a fast food/street food in Pakistan.

Kind of an obscure topic, right? I mean, what does a trans-bordered (and trans-religion) food dish native to provincial areas of south Asia have to do with food in Houston? Because, according to my Indian and Pakistani friends, one of the most authentic (and delicious) bihari kabab dishes you will eat outside of Pakistan can be found in a hole-in-the-wall kabab house in far west Houston called Bundu Khan.

Read More...

Bundu Khan Kabab House

The first thing you see when you step into Bundu Khan is a refrigerated glass case stacked high with skewers of chicken and meat. Directly behind the case and the ordering area is a long charcoal grill where the kababs are cooked. The menu is small, maybe 7-8 main courses, and some drinks and desserts. I was here for the bihari kabab and placed my order with the young Hispanic man behind the bar (the owners are Pakistani, but in true Houston form the front-of-house staff is Hispanic).

"Beef or chicken?" he asked. The dish is traditionally beef, but in a nod to Indian Hindus who don't eat beef, chicken is offered. I went with the beef.

"How spicy?" This is always a good sign when you are a "Westerner" eating in an "ethnic" restaurant known for spicy food. More than a few times I've been to a restaurant and got the "gringo treatment" where waiters or chefs - without even asking - pull punches when it comes to exotic ingredients or the spiciness of a dish. I gave him a thumbs up and said, "Make it hot. Hotter the better." I also ordered a sweet lassi as a hedge against the potential heat of the kabab.

He wrote up the order and I pulled out my wallet to pay. "No worries, just pay when you leave." I like counter-service restaurants that follow this procedure. It's like they're saying, "You seem like a nice fellow, you're welcome here. We're going to make sure you are fed well first, then we'll settle up the bill." I sat down in a dining room filled with a South Asian clientele and waited for my order.

The recipe for bihari kabab varies, but the basic ingredients are thin slices of tenderized beef (pasanday), yogurt, papaya paste, and spices such as garam masala, cumin and chili powder. The spices, yogurt and papaya are combined into a marinade, and then the meat is threaded onto a skewer and marinated for several hours. The kabab is then cooked over a charcoal grill.

The bihari kabab at Bundu Khan is served with lemons, cucumbers and onions. A thin raita sauce (yogurt, cucumber, herbs and spices) and a sweet tamarind sauce are offered as condiments. The obligatory naan (oven-baked flatbread) is ordered separately for $1 a basket.

The first thing I did was to pinch off and taste a piece of the wonderfully tenderized and charred kabab meat. The spiciness, especially the cumin and chili powder, was so overwhelming you could barely taste the meat! With the array of ingredients and condiments before me, I knew there must be a technique for softening and balancing the flavor of the kabab. I stole a sideways glance to the customers around me and watched their technique. Here are a few tips for eating bihari kabab (note that these are based on the traditional etiquette of eating Pakistani/Indian food with your fingers).

First, completely drench the kabab with the lemon juice. Pour some of the raita in the individual plate provided to you. Tear off a piece of naan and use it as a pouch to grab a piece of the kabab. Wedge in a piece of cucumber and onion, and then dredge the lot of it in the raita on your plate. Take a bite. The combination and diversity of flavor and texture is astounding. The cucumber and yogurt of the raita combined with the fresh cucumber perfectly balanced and complemented the yogurt/spice marinade of the kabab. A hint of beef flavor emerged. If you want to add a touch of sweetness, drizzle on some of the tamarind sauce.

There are a few things you should know before you try the Pakistani cuisine at Bundu Khan. Service can be gruff, or at least succinct. The service here is best described as accommodating and efficient. Also, the restaurant is housed in an older structure that is a bit worn around the edges (though perfectly clean). On the summer afternoon I visited, the temperature in the dining room was cool but not cold, and not uncomfortable. In other words, if you're expecting a T.G.I. Friday's experience, i.e. a smiling, flair-laden hostess seating you in a shiny new building air conditioned to arctic temperatures, then Bundu Khan may not be for you.

After demolishing my bihari kabab, naan and lassi, I approached the counter and paid the bill (about $12). As I walked out, I noticed a South Asian woman - who earlier had been working behind the counter - sitting down at a table. She was joined by two teenagers and an older gentleman. Were these the owners having dinner in their own restaurant? What looked like the entire menu of Bundu Khan was arrayed before them.

Black Summer Truffles at Tony's

This blog entry was originally posted 8 July 2010 on the www.29-95.com website.

Truffles are vaguely associated with French farmers who lead pigs around on a leash as they root around in the ground looking for expensive mushrooms that rich people like to eat. Actually, this stereotype isn't that far off.

Tony's Summer Black Truffles

Truffles are indeed a type of mushroom (the edible variety of truffles are classified as fungi, and more specifically as tubers). The difference is that the mushroom grows above ground, and the truffle grows below ground. Which is where the pigs come in.

Really, the only effective way to locate an underground truffle is through the sense of smell. By a fluke of nature, female pigs are perfectly suited to sniffing out these subterranean delicacies because the scent of a truffle has the same chemical characteristics as the scent excreted by boars (uncastrated male pigs) during mating season. Think about it. Human beings enlist pigs to find and harvest gourmet delicacies by tricking the pig into thinking it's going to have sex. It's one of those crazy natural coincidences that makes us believe God must have a sense of humor.

Read More...

When the pig locates a truffle, the farmer whacks the pig over the head with a stick to make it back off, otherwise the pig will immediately eat the truffle and keel over in orgasmic spasms. Once the pig stands down, the farmer digs up the truffle and away they go. To avoid the pig-in-heat complication, more truffle farmers are enlisting truffle hunting dogs that can be trained to recognize the scent of a truffle. And it doesn't look stupid to put a leash on a dog.

There are various kinds of edible truffles that are highly prized by gourmands. The white (Alba) truffle comes from the Piedmont region of northern Italy and is considered the most desirable and expensive of all truffles (a 3.3 pound white truffle sold for $330,000 in 2007). Similarly, the black truffle is associated with the Périgord region of France and is also highly sought-after. The French think their truffle is superior to the Italian truffle; the Italians respond by not caring what the French think. Both the white and black truffles are harvested in autumn and winter.

Not to be outdone, the black summer truffle is harvested starting in June and July. Although not quite as sought-after, and arguably less pungent than its cool weather cousins, it's still a mainstay of summertime haute cuisine. Recently, Tony's in Houston started serving black summer truffles from Lazio (the area around Rome, Italy) as an accompaniment to its regular menu. For about $30, you can have a generous amount of truffle shaved onto (or cooked into) any dish on the menu (call ahead for current availability and pricing). Never one to pass up the chance to sample an exotic delicacy, I rounded up three foodie friends and we headed to lunch at Tony's to get our truffle on.

Tony's Summer Black Truffles with Risotto

Upon arrival we were seated in Tony's ornate but comfortable main dining room. The atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed and friendly for a restaurant considered the fanciest in town. The very professional and accommodating waitstaff at Tony's — who, I imagine, have heard just about every crazy request imaginable — didn't even blink when we said we wanted truffle shaved on everything. This included a burger, risotto, grilled cheese sandwich, and a chicken involtini. If it had been a little less expensive, we might have had them shave some truffle into our iced tea.

As it turns out, the musky, earthy essence of the truffle added a fascinating dimension to the flavor of our dishes. I had it shaved over a plate of risotto al porcini. Certainly tasty, but probably not the best choice, as the mushrooms and salty stock of the risotto competed mightily with the subtle pungency of the truffle (a risotto Milanese probably would have worked better). More successful was the grilled cheese sandwich (a fancy, Tony's version to be sure, not the kind your mom made). The truffles were cooked into the melted cheese and a few were shaved over the top for good measure. The earthy truffle nicely complemented the yeasty bread and milky cheese.

Our black summer truffle lunch at Tony's was both an enjoyable splurge and a foodie adventure. We left satisfied. Only a few more months to the white truffle season. I'm already saving up for that adventure.

KHOU Does a Hatchet Job on Taco Trucks

This blog entry was originally posted 1 June 2010 on the www.29-95.com website.

The headline on the KHOU website was alarming: "Health department says filthy taco truck vendors found during surprise visits." It was also surprising, at least to me. I'm a taco truck connoisseur.

N Airline tacos

The food can be phenomenal — some of the best in the city — and the price is right. But I'm also a stickler for hygiene and cleanliness. Lord knows the sickest I've ever been is from food poisoning.

So it's ironic that I've never gotten sick from eating at a taco truck. In fact, I've made it a habit to keep a close eye on the conditions of the taco trucks I patronize, and the vast majority are clean and well-run. In my experience the workers are hygienic and well-groomed (not to mention hardworking). I can assure you, if I come across a food establishment that is obviously unsanitary, I'll stop going there and report it to anyone who will listen. Hundreds of people die each year from food poisoning.

So how could I explain the discrepancy between the apparently dire conditions found by the KHOU reporter and my own benign and even enjoyable experiences eating at taco trucks? Local television news organizations are, after all, one of the most reliable and trustworthy sources of news in any community.

Of course, I'm being facetious.

Read More...

In my opinion, local TV news organizations are rapidly becoming the bottom feeders of the increasingly murky swamp that is "gotcha" journalism. It pains me to say this because I have a lot of friends in Houston who are professional, ethical and hardworking journalists. But the reality is that we as consumers of media have come to expect sensational stories about deadly flesh-eating bacteria on supermarket shopping carts, and the obligatory sweeps week report (with hidden video) of strippers ignoring the three foot rule as they grind up against sweaty, fat, middle-aged guys. If it bleeds, or gyrates, it leads

I have no idea if the reporter, Jeff McShan, knew of the hornet's nest he was getting into when it comes to taco truck politics with its undercurrents of racism, xenophobia, and anti-competitiveness. But based on my own research and experience, I believe that KHOU's taco truck piece is just another example of the disingenuous, alarmist, and fearmongering "journalism" that is the hallmark of local TV news. Let's go to the video, shall we?

After the anchors set up the spot, the video begins with a fly — one single fly — buzzing around the interior of a taco truck. We see a clean and well-kempt young Hispanic man with hair cut so short he is basically bald, as an ominous voice-over bemoans the lack of hairnets. Yes, I know even short-haired workers must wear hairnets, but couldn't they find a better example?

Next we see a city health inspector who talks like Flo the Waitress addressing confused workers as "Precious" and berating them about "bad hand contact!" She also lectures them on storing what appears to be a bottle of cleaning liquid too close to a food preparation area. No, I don't want hazardous chemicals next to my food, but again, couldn't they find something more incriminating than improperly stored cleaning materials in a supposedly filthy food establishment?

So what happened? Where's the (rancid) beef? I'm quite sure if they had found a dog carcass or some gopher meat or something, the images would have been played on an endless teaser loop in the hours leading up to the late local news. What accounts for the seeming lack of any "smoking gun?" Because I doubt there was one. Here's why.

One of the great resources provided by the City of Houston is the Health Department's Food Inspection website. Here you can look up the records for every restaurant inspection. I wanted to determine if the inspections of the taco trucks reported by KHOU were truly representative of "filthy" or unhealthful conditions as they relate to other routine health inspections. To do this, I compared the historical inspections between one of the taco trucks in the report, "Taqueria Veracruz," with one of Houston's most professionally-run and well-respected restaurants — Tony's. The results are interesting.

From May 2007 to May 2010, "Tony's Restaurant" kitchen was inspected five times and the "Taqueria Veracruz - Mi Jalisco" truck 10 times. All inspections for both were listed as "Routine Inspections," none were listed as due to a "Complaint." Over the course of these inspections, Tony's averaged 4.4 violations per inspection, while Veracruz averaged 2.5 violations per inspection. Sure, they are different-sized operations, but you would still expect these "filthy" taco trucks to rack up more violations than the fanciest restaurant in Houston.

Furthermore, health violations are categorized into three grades from most-to-least impactful on public health: substantial (most impactful), serious, and general (least impactful). Neither establishment had any substantial violations. Both establishments had about an equal number of serious and general violations in their respective number of total violations.

Looking at specific violations between the two establishments, many are similar and some are exactly the same: employees not using gloves, openings to the outside not protected from insects, floors not kept clean. For example, both establishments have been cited for Violation 20-021.22(a): "Floors / floor covering not kept clean in: food preparation area / walk-in refrigeration unit / food storage area / dressing room / locker room / utensil-washing area / toilet room / vestibule."

Also, one of the violations prominently featured in the KHOU video, broken or open screens that are supposed to keep out insects, did in fact result in Violation 20-021.21(b) for Taqueria Veracruz: "Screens for windows / doors opening to the outside not tight fitting / free of breaks." But in 2007, Tony's was cited for the exact same violation, described as "Openings to the outside not protected against the entrance of insects by tight fitting / self-closing doors."

What can we conclude from a review of these records? Most health inspection reports are reflections of exactly what they are: routine inspections where otherwise sanitary kitchens are reminded about actions they need to take to stay clean and compliant with legitimate health codes. Just because violations are found at Tony's during a routine inspection does not mean it is a "filthy" or unsanitary restaurant. It's not. But neither is the Taqueria Veracruz taco truck.

So why did KHOU do a report that gives the impression that taco trucks in general are "filthy" and by extension dangerous? I think we all know the answer to that. A lot of local TV news deals in the currency of fear, alarmism, and, in this case, xenophobia. Viewers like to feel that they are being protected from bad people and bad things. Stories like filthy taco trucks and flesh-eating bacteria on shopping carts play perfectly into the mindset and beliefs of at least some of the local TV news audience. It's also important to note that using words like "filthy" in the headline is an unfortunate reminder of xenophobic buzzwords like "filthy Mexicans."

Not convinced? Just have a look at the comments associated with this piece on the KHOU website. I'll excerpt a few that are representative:

"Who in their right mind would eat from a taco truck? Some nasty illegal who does not was his/her hands after taking a dump, then right back to making the tacos... NASTY!"

"Leave them alone. Most of their customers are illegals. Let them eat, get sick and die. Immigration problem solved."

"I'm sorry but they need to completely shut ALL of them down. They are just so nasty and dirty. They did an ordinance but none have been followed. Did they think they would?? This report sure didn't surprise me, but it needed to be done, to bring awareness to all."

I can only imagine that for every wacko that actually took the time to comment on the website, there must be hundreds if not thousands sitting at home watching this report, thinking the same thing.

I want to make a few things clear. I am not advocating that the Health Department use kid gloves when inspecting taco trucks. On the contrary, I expect the Health Department to aggressively inspect taco trucks, and all food establishments, to ensure public safety. But I do object to any sensational or alarmist characterizations, either by the Health Department or a local TV crew riding along, that misrepresent the results of those inspections.

Based on my own experiences with taco trucks, as well as on the knowledge gained from researching this blog post, I'll continue patronizing establishments like Taqueria Veracruz (and Tony's). What I can do, and will do, is choose not to watch local TV news.

No One Cares About Your Food Blog

I just finished writing a 5000 word blog post about a dish that no one eats anymore. I didn't plan to write that many words, but the dish, spaghetti alla carbonara, turned out to have a fascinating history and a disputed provenance.

Photo by miss604

I just kept writing until I felt I had told the story. I didn't consider my audience, or where it might get published, I just wrote what I found to be interesting. I can assure you, I would not have invested as much time and effort in a 5000 word blog post if I didn't love doing it.

I don't make a living writing about food. I'm very fortunate to have the time to do it as an avocation. Undoubtedly one of the greatest jobs in the world is to write about food and make a living at it, but lately some of my professional colleagues lament that the job has become tedious and formulaic. 10 posts a week! 500 words each! Barbecue! Burgers! Donuts! Pageviews!

On the rare occasion that writing feels like an obligation, I always ask myself this question: "If you knew no one was going to read your blog, would you still write it?" So far, the answer has always been "yes."

Read More...

Still, I realize there are a few hearty souls who will happily plow through thousands of words I might write about an obscure Italian pasta dish or a regional food like barbecue crabs. Many of them have become my friends, and I do feel an obligation to write honestly, accurately, and passionately if only because that's what they expect of me. Of course, that's what I expect of myself, so there's never a conflict there.

One of the friends I met through blogging writes the Food in Houston blog. He's currently taking a hiatus from writing about food, hinting that it may be the result of the aforementioned tedium that results when you feel obligated to write about food. Back in September 2009, he wrote an interesting blog post about Houston food blogging. Here are some excerpts:

One by one, the bloggers have been co-opted by for-profit ventures. And the blogs have changed.

And

Our food blogs have lost the high energy, DIY ethic of 2008 when we all did it solely for the love of food.

This blog post raised a few eyebrows, as reflected in the post's comments. Anyone who was blogging about food in Houston at the time could relate, including me. At the end of the post, he wondered which way the Houston food blogging scene would go. More generic or more idiosyncratic?

Regrettably, I think Houston food blogging has remained stagnant since this post was written. Which is unfortunate because the breadth and depth of topics about food in Houston is large and growing. However, with a few notable exceptions, most food blogging in Houston has either stopped entirely or trended toward generic subjects (in my opinion).

So here's my advice for burned-out food bloggers and those who may be thinking about starting a food blog. Sit down in front of your computer with a glass of wine or a cup of coffee, write about what you love, what you're passionate about, and assume no one's going to read it. It can be three paragraphs or thirty. And when you're done, if you like what you wrote and you think others will too, post it to your blog. Don't worry about pageviews or the number of comments. Four or five dedicated readers who appreciate the thought and effort you put into your blog are worth a thousand readers just passing through.

This may all seem antithetical to what you should do to be a successful food writer, but so be it. If someone tells you the future of food writing is generic subjects written in small, bite-sized blurbs, you should immediately start writing long-form blog posts in an idiosyncratic voice about obscure topics. That's what I did for my carbonara post. I have no idea if anyone is interested in what I wrote, or if anyone will even read it, but I sure had a great time writing it.

The blog posts:

1. Building the Perfect Carbonara: A Roman Puzzle
2. Building the Perfect Carbonara: Meat and Cheese
3. Building the Perfect Carbonara: The Pasta
4. Building the Perfect Carbonara: The Recipe

Truluck's Influencers' Event 4/7/2010

Truluck's, a small and growing chain of upscale seafood restaurants, recently sponsored an "influencers event" at its Houston location.

Truluck's Influencer's Event

An "influencer" is the newish umbrella term created by P.R. professionals that refers to traditional media plus social media types — bloggers, Twitterers and the like. It's what a "media tasting" used to be when there were just radio, TV, and newspapers. The dinner was complimentary to those who attended, including me.

Like several of my dining companions at the event, Truluck's had been completely off my restaurant radar. I remembered going there once in the distant past, when it was in a curvy, shiny, ship-like building a bit further down Westheimer. My only other recollection was that it specialized in stone crab claws.

On this Wednesday in April, Truluck's was doing a booming business in it's sleek bar and dining room, located in a strip center just past the Galleria on Westheimer. The bar was mainly filled with professional types from surrounding Galleria-area offices. An enthusiastic piano player belted out hits from R.E.M. and Steely Dan.

Read More...

Truluck's is still very much known for its Florida stone crab claws and seafood in general. It's also taken up the cause of sustainable seafood — always a plus for upscale fish restaurants. Florida stone crab claws are by nature one of the great matches of sustainability and human consumption — the big "crusher claw" that we all love to eat is harvested (ouch!) from the live crab which is then returned to the farm/ocean. It will then conveniently grow another claw in about a year. Talk about a renewable resource.

The Florida stone crab claws that came with the seafood platter were indeed delicious and I could eat my way through quite a few of them. The other appetizers were all quite good except the wedge salad which seemed dreary and droopy, and the gumbo which included tomatoes as an ingredient. This is Houston — don't put tomatoes in your gumbo, please.

The entrees were all generally good and plentiful. Texas Striped Bass Pontchartrain being a highlight. Having grown up in Southeast Texas eating pontchartrain dishes I can say this one was well executed. The Miso-Glazed Chilean Sea Bass was another standout. Chilean sea bass is usually shunned for its un-sustainability, but according to Truluck's they get their's from a sustainable farm off the coast of Chile (or is that Argentina?).

Service for the evening was professional and friendly. The general manager made frequent trips to the table and seemed genuinely interested in our experience. The wine pairings were good for the mid-range wines they served us.

Overall, Truluck's made a very positive showing for this influencer's dinner. If I'm in the mood for Florida stone crab claws, this will be the first place I think about and will go out of the way to get there. If I'm in the Galleria area without plans for lunch or dinner, and I'm in the mood for seafood, I'd definitely consider visiting Truluck's.

Houston Press Menu of Menus Extravaganza

It's springtime in Houston, and that means a flurry of festival activity: wine, food, crawfish, art, art cars — we've got it all. One of my favorites is the Houston Press Menu of Menus Extravanganza.

I've attended the last couple of years and it's a great way to taste offerings from Houston's best restaurants in one location. This year two of my personal favorites, Danton's Gulf Coast Seafood and Nelore Churrascaria, are featured prominently. Other restaurants that I've been meaning to try out but have not yet visited like Laurenzo's, Hearsay, and Blue Nile will be there. It will also be interesting to see what Textile Restaurant — known for the meticulous execution of high-end dishes — serves for the event.

And of course there's always a sleeper restaurant that uses the Menu of Menu's as a springboard to prominence. Last year, an unknown (and not yet opened) wine bar known as Block 7 created enough buzz to make it one of the most heralded openings of an Houston restaurant in a while.

This year's event takes place at West Avenue, an ambitious mixed-use development at the corner of Kirby and Westheimer. You don't see a lot of forward-thinking urban developments like this in Houston, and I'm curious to get a look. All proceeds from the event benefit Discovery Green and The Center for Hearing and Speech. Tickets are available on the Houston Press website.

Full disclosure: I have written for the Houston Press food blog Eating Our Words in the past and received two complimentary tickets to this year's event.

A Catfish Out of Water

This blog entry was originally posted 24 May 2010 on the www.29-95.com website.

There's a Texas A&M banner hanging over the door to the restrooms at Lafayette Cajun Seafood Restaurant. It's only one example of the endearing quirkiness of this Cajun seafood restaurant located in a crazy-quilt neighborhood surrounding the intersection of West Bellfort and Wilcrest in southwest Houston.

Lafayette Seafood Restaurant - Fried Catfish

I'm a sucker for anything food-related that's labeled "Cajun." It's a weakness I fully accept, and it led me to pull into the parking lot of the down-at-the-heels mini-mall that Lafayette Cajun Seafood shares with a washateria (coin-operated). It's an improbable location for a seafood restaurant, surrounded by smoke shops, taco trucks, and Middle Eastern ethnic markets. My philosophy about seafood restaurants is, "How bad can you screw up fried catfish?" Of course, it's really quite easy to screw up fried catfish. But I'm an optimist.

Read More...

Lafayette Seafood Restaurant

Even before you step into the restaurant, you are confronted with five, count'em five, signs taped to the front door that say "No public restrooms." Maybe the A&M banner is some kind of final warning?

Lafayette Seafood Restaurant

I was seated at a table by myself in a half full restaurant around lunchtime on a Saturday. Inexplicably, each table had a removable tag with a number on it. Presumably the table number? I'd certainly never seen this before in a restaurant. As the friendly and efficient waiter took my order, I imagined the owner shuffling the numbers every morning just to keep the waiters on their toes. I liked that.

Every Cajun seafood restaurant can be judged by two things: gumbo and fried catfish. I ordered a cup of gumbo, and the fried shrimp and catfish combo. Really, just typing the words "fried shrimp and catfish" makes my mouth water. Coon-ass conditioning you might call it.

When I ordered the gumbo, I asked the waiter about the "chicken gumbo" on the menu. "Is that chicken and sausage gumbo?" I inquired. "No," he replied, "just chicken. But I can throw some sausage in there too if you like." I ordered the shrimp gumbo. When it came out, it had the requisite dark roux, but several small, rubbery shrimp were elbowed out by giant chunks of bell pepper and celery (where was the onion?). The gumbo soup was thin and one-dimensional, supported mostly with a generous component of salt. In a town with lots of good gumbo, this didn't measure up.

I didn't have much hope for the fried shrimp and catfish and resigned myself to taking one for the team. But when the dish came out, it didn't look half bad. The shrimp were small but capably fried, and quite tasty. The two generously-sized catfish fillets were fresh, flaky, moist, and covered in a finely-textured cornmeal batter. A heaping helping of dirty rice was properly prepared with flakes of meat and giblets, and mercifully devoid of any extraneous ingredients like green onions or parsley. The tartar sauce and cocktail sauce were better than expected.

As I sat and enjoyed my Cajun meal, listening to piped-in music that veered from Willie Nelson to something that sounded like Mannheim Steamroller to "Panama" by Van Halen, I asked myself, "Why, other than the competent seafood and quirky atmosphere, would someone come here rather than one of the many other Cajun restaurants in Houston?" The answer was on the menu in the form of prices. Most of the main dishes were under $10. My satisfying shrimp and catfish dinner cost all of $9.75. The same dish is listed as $18.95 at Pappadeaux and $21.00 at Danton's. It's cheap, it's good, it's Cajun. I'd go back.