In search of Soul (Food)

If Navin R. Johnson was born a poor black child, then I'm his cousin. Watchin' Navin and his family eat dinner in that broken down shack always makes my cornbead hole drool. I've been jonesin' for some Southern soul or Cajun Creole food ever since I passed by Louisiana Creole Gumbo's (LCG) restaurant after an Eastern Market foray. By law I'm forced to go to Supino's on Saturdays, so on that day my belly was full of their special deliciousness.

So on a Sunday morning, still suffering from a solid late night bender, my official taste tester and I jumped on the bike and headed South down 75 for what I hoped would be a transcendental trip back to New Orleans. What I got was a big fat mouth full of disappointment. Whaa whaa whaaaaa. (cue the deflating balloon video)

LCG opens at one on Sundays. We got there at 1:01 pm and there was already a line of folks in shiny suits and patent leather shoes who had just left church. Now, I'm not gonna tell ya that the stares me and my very blond haired friend got were hostile, because they weren't. But I will say it was a little uncomfortable. I mean haven't they ever seen a pretty white girl and a wanna be boy of the South ordering up soul food before?

The menu posted on the wall looked like the real deal. All the Creole classics were there, gumbo, jambalaya (Jambalaya! just had a Seinfeld/Newman moment), etc, as well as a full compliment of Southern Classics like smothered pork chops, fried catfish and mac n cheese. Resisting the urge to order each side of the menu and showing great restraint I settled for the combo; shrimp gumbo, jambalaya, red beans and rice plus a side of collard greens.

Excited like a boy on prom night, I approached the bullet proof glass and ordered up lunch. We slipped into one of two tables and waited with anticipation and all the patience of that teenage boy and the end of the prom.

Our order was called out and I retrieved my brown paper bag through the portal in the protective glass. With excitement mounting we pulled styrafoam bowl after bowl out of the bag and spread them out over the table. Opening each one I grew suspicious. In front of me in place of gumbo or jambalaya was essentially, a stock based soup! Where's my roux? I wanna see a dark smokey roux with an almost gravy consistancy. I wanna smell file powder and wanna taste spice! Not soup! I don't want soup! Now to give you some background. I know gumbo. I've eaten gumbo cooked by Creoles with light rouxs, dark rouxs and filled with critters most people consider to be garden pests. This WAS NOT GUMBO! Don't get me started with the jambalaya! Jambalaya is essentially a wonderful rice dish filled more akin to paella than to soup. My jambalaya looked liked SOUP! It hardly differed from the impostor gumbo. Brokenhearted I turned my attention to the red beans and rice. Suprise, Suprise, Suprise! (think, Gomer Pyle) these were really good. Full of flavor and oddly enough slightly sweet, though in a good way. I really enjoyed the cornbread and the collards, as well, though to be fair, my blond haired official taste tester didn't care for it.

Out of six total items on the table, I enjoyed three, the beans and rice, collards and the cornbread. Much like that boy on prom night, I was sorely disappointed (the boy is a completely fictional character and bears no resemblance to this writer, seriously, don't give me that look).The main players, gumbo and jambalaya were barely recognizable. I read up a little on LCG before I went and the reviews I read were positive. Hell, I even read a prominent restaurant critics' take and she couldn't say enough good things. My guess is she has no idea what gumbo is or things have drastically changed since the review.

So what's the cousin of guy who was born a poor black child to do? I wants good soul food. The only choice I have is to start my search for the best soul food joint in the D. Look forward to my upcoming series on "Finding my Soul (Food) in the D". Over the next few months I'll be stopping in high brow and low brow joints all over the city in a search to satisfy my soul.

While I wasn't impressed with LCG, I was still digesting detroit and discovering my city one drink and one bite at a time.

PS, In case you were wondering, yes we were down there when body parts were discovered near Eastern Market and no, we had nothing to do with it. We did however notice a foul odor.

Louisiana Creole Gumbo map