After three years of chasing, rating, and occasionally defending Oklahoma’s best attempts at Cajun cooking—thanks to my Louisiana-born wife and my own culinary compulsions—I finally made it to the source. On our honeymoon, tucked inside a humble grocery store in Lafayette, I had my first taste: some po’ boys that stopped me cold.
Of course, they were more than delightful, but the next day…well, that was a total fais do-do!
Outside of town, in the somewhat-rural area known as Breaux Bridge that lays claim—at least what I have seen so far—to some of the best above-ground cemeteries, the politest wayward youths, and, more to the most delicious point, the mouth-watering Southern tastes (and then some!) of Café Sydnie Mae, 140 E. Bridge St. in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana.
A recommendation based on my in-laws’ true love for the place, after a short wait where we did some antique shopping next door, we got our purchases and walked into the cafe. Wondrously, it seemed like a place out of time.
Paintings of zydeco, R&B, and bluesmen lined the walls, while above us there was an early-20th-century contraption that moved caskets from the basement, mostly because this used to be a casket factory.
Already, this place has got its crawdaddy claws in me.
As we looked over our menus, a folky blues singer came to the ramshackle stage and began to sing. While these customers may enjoy the musical treat all the time, I don’t, and I was transfixed!
With a loyal fan base of customers, the place was popping on a Saturday afternoon. Even better, I had heard about a homegrown root beer called Abita in glass bottles, and they had it here. To be sure, it was crisp and fresh.
My wife, on the other hand, had a pink cocktail based on a Chappell Roan song and, yes, it was whimsical but not my speed. More Abita, I say!
After a few minutes of talking and learning more about each other, I ordered an appetizer to the table that gave us a history lesson of the Italian Renaissance by way of the bayou: Sydnie Mae’s traditional Breaux Bread ($9.00).
It was Italian bread steeped with butter, olive oil, parmesan cheese, sesame seeds, and other Italian herbs, with marinara sauce for dipping. After one bite, the Breaux bread was a great table-topper that really made me stand up at attention.
With that rearing up my tastebuds, I had the Meatball Po’boy ($18.00), a true slice of this Italian-based pie with a Cajun twist. A few large meatballs are bathed in marinara, fresh mozzarella, and pesto, on Langlinais Fresch bread—a New Orleans company, natch—with a heap of fries rounding out the plate.
As the sandwich took over my plate, it looked like a cheesy congealed mess until you got into the meat of the matter. A spicy take on the regular beef meatball, with the static taste of the perfect bread, this was one of the best sandwiches I’ve had so far in this sandwich-filled life—a dragon I'll be chasing back to Oklahoma City.
On that main fusion train, my father-in-law had the C’Asian Fried Shrimp Tacos ($14.00) that made the menu a true world affair. Two massive fried shrimp tacos are drowned in Sydnie Mae’s own Bang Bang sauce, complete with lettuce and tomatoes.
With a side of fries, this dish was an unexpected treat that not only had the pedigree of a taco base with Asian insides, but the flavor was more than experimental. Sure, the taco branding was all there, but it was the Cajun seasonings that really packed a punch, giving a warm blessing to the eater.
Wanting something more traditional—but not too much—my wife and my mother-in-law split the Grits and Grillades ($25.00), a true swamp specialty. Beef tenderloin is cooked with a trinity—as known as celery, bell pepper, and onion—in brown gravy, which then smothers a bowl full of Creole cream cheese grits and, of course, a big ol’ biscuit.
Now this dish, one that I had never heard of, encompasses all that I didn’t know about Louisiana cooking, and, with this dish, proves that there is so much to learn. The grits are filling, and the gravy on par, but it’s the rich tenderloin and that big, beautiful biscuit that blew everything out of the murky water.
I kind of want some of those grits and gravy right now!
Even though I was full, I had to try their famous bread pudding, one of my best discoveries since the new year. I put in my final order for the White Chocolate Bread Pudding ($9.00), topped with white chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and a handful of berries.
It was pure heaven. This is what I talk about when you get me on the subject of dessert: a heavy bread loaded with the white chocolate sauce made me squeal with ample delight. The only thing that may delight me even more was this crawfish gown next door, which I’m sure had a moss-covered John Waters as its creator.
After a truly legendary meal like that, I usually sign off with a satisfied “Cómpralo ya!” and call it a day. But this wasn’t just a meal—it was a Cajun revelation that raised the bar for every Bayou bite I'll be chasing back in Oklahoma. And now, with a belly full of soul, all I can say is what the locals already know...
“Ça c’est bon!”
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
