Darin Oswald/Idaho Statesman Chef Roland serves customers himself.
I can live with, even appreciate, the old desk and piles of paperwork you pass by when walking into Chef Roland’s dining room. The cordless drill left on the floor near a table. And Roland Joseph himself shuffling across the room to a zydeco beat that’s moving twice as fast as he is.
All of which would give pause if it didn’t fit so well the languid, slightly-tattered, gumbo-gothic motif that makes New Orleans and bayou country itself so darkly intriguing. A tidy and polished Bourbon Street, after all, would not a Mardi Gras make.
But fueling that soulful imperfection, whether here or there, is the food – Louisiana food. And that food had better be good.
That’s why on a June lunch visit I was encouraged when Chef Roland dropped a live crawfish on our table. He flies the squirming mudbugs up from Louisiana; the crawfish fishery is one of the few in the Gulf that hasn’t yet been impacted by the BP oil spill. After so graphically proving their freshness, he brought out a heaping, flame-red pile of boiled-in-the-shell crawfish tumbled with corn on the cob, red potato and hot link sausage ($18.95).
The spices clinging to those Louisiana Reds, as the variety is called, were hot enough to cure a head cold. And the bits of crawfish a friend and I sucked out of the tails and tiny claws were sweet, with none of the muddy notes common to freshwater crustacea. The whole tasty platter wasn’t far off the flavor of crawfish boils I’ve eaten in actual Cajun country.
Chef Roland himself was born in Lake Charles, La., and although his family moved to California, he went back to New Orleans for culinary school. Eight years ago he moved to Boise as food service director for the Boise Rescue Mission. He ran a food trailer after that, then opened Chef Roland’s 2Ý years ago. He says the restaurant life on this lonely stretch of Boise Avenue hasn’t been easy. Chef Roland, who has had to cut back on staff, is also the restaurant’s only waiter. But business is getting better: “One day” he says, “the Lord told me, if I keep showing up, he’ll keep the doors open.”
Darin Oswald/Idaho Statesman Crawfish platter filled with boiled Louisiana Red crawfish with corn on the cob, red potatoes, hot link sausage and hush puppies.
As if fulfilling prophecy on another afternoon, Chef Roland was busy serving tables icy Abita beer ($3.75) and bowls of gumbo and jambalaya ($5.99 each at lunch; $6.99 at dinner). He seemed a bit overwhelmed, though, and the crawfish etouffee ($14.95/lunch) I’d ordered tasted of it. The dish had a slightly swampy flavor that, along with an accompanying plate of under-seasoned beans and rice, suggested Chef Roland is sometimes spread too thin.
In contrast, the Cajun BBQ pork ribs ($13.99), swimming in a sweet red sauce, were falling-off-the-bone delicious. So were the nearly baseball-sized cornmeal hush puppies that accompany virtually everything at Roland’s. The pork Po Boy sandwich ($7.99) was also quite good. But overstuffed with pork and a moist remoulade sauce, it self-destructed between a friend’s fingers after a few bites. Still, some might argue that’s proper Po Boy behavior.
Stuffed with breadcrumbs and smothered in jambalaya, a Friday-night pork loin special ($17.95) was also messy good. The less complicated blackened prime rib ($18.95) was tender and tasty. And the key lime pie and bread pudding ($4.50 each) – well, I wish I’d saved room for more.
Maybe I’m going a little easy on Chef Roland’s restaurant. After all, he ain’t the fastest waiter in the world, and his restaurant is far from polished. But Chef Roland and the region he came from still have heart after suffering more than their share of tribulations. That matters.
As he says: “I spend 14 to 16 hours a day here six days a week. And that’s all right. I’m all right with that. The kitchen is just like my own little heaven.”
Read more: http://www.idahostatesman.com/2010/06/25/1244113/cajun-cuisine-and-bbq-has-lots.html#ixzz0rrYIAV2i
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Guy Hand is a writer, public radio producer and photographer specializing in food and agriculture. |
I used to go to his trailer when it was down near HP (I worked at HP) and later when I moved jobs and found him off Fairview. I have not been able to make it to the restaurant much. The problem when things get busy, is the best part of the experience is talking to the chef. That is one problem that the restaurant has, that the trailer did not. He has a few signature dishes that are just completely out of this world, even if you don’t like things hot… like me.
You can actually talk to Chef Roland since he’s also waiting tables. I’ve had some very pleasant conversations with him when things weren’t busy. But when they are, he’s hard pressed to nod hello, let along talk.