Some of us grew up in households where a dash of cayenne or diced up jalapenos in a dish wasn’t met with a torrent of fear. Others grew up in around kitchens where a strong combination of non-tangy spices would be seen as irrational and quite beyond the realm of safe. Growing up, I found that my family met in the middle, too terrified to taste anything spicy, occasionally experimenting with cross complimenting flavors. This isn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy family dinners these past decades – my Mother’s lasagna and my father’s chili are warm reminders that I am back in their presence for a visit. As the years advanced and the people I met shot me looks of abject shock that I had “never tried Indian” or “never had a Serrano in guacamole” or “don’t like cayenne pepper in stew” forced me to wonder why I had never personally challenged myself. Thankfully, the challenge lives on with this blog, documenting adventures of what I would call not a rookie palate but a second or third year veteran, literally hungry for more.
My latest hunger quest brought me back to one of my favorite restaurants. I have visited The Dixie Kitchen & Bait Shop on Church Street in Evanston many times over the past year for brunch, a quick lunch or a satisfying dinner. Waiters wear black t-shirts that have a quote from the happy review of then Illinois State Senator Barack Obama when he use to frequent the establishment in Hyde Park, which converted to the Calypso Café and closed as of last June.
The décor is hodgepodge of Cajun, Bayou and rustic Louisiana items that are fairly reminiscent of dusty treasures that the boys on American Pickers have dug up. My friends and family have particularly loved the light fixtures that are made from oversized Jays and Potato Flakes tin containers. A row boat rests up-side-down on the ceiling, next to some clever, pre-world war two era signs doling out folksy wisdom or advertising the most erroneous health care remedies that were likely nothing but snake oil. Now even though I have been critical of places such as this with the kitschy decorations, shades of items on the wall and down-home southern look are reminiscent of non-chain places I have seen in the south over the years. The real winner should be the quality of the food, which Dixie Kitchen has far more often than those depressing ‘same in and out’ chain restaurants.
When you sit, they toss down corn cakes. Better resembling a pancake than a corn muffin, this small paddy of deliciousness, covered ever so lightly with butter, sets your taste buds to the Deep South. Ally ordered her stand-by favorite – North Carolina pulled pork on a bun with a macaroni side. The pulled pork, hit with a dash of the appropriate vinegar and spice sauce found in that region, sent that meal to just below the greatness of that pulled pork at Real Urban BBQ. Usually she would order collard greens, which have adverse affects on various people’s taste buds and stomachs. The mac and cheese I thought was simple, with little specialness.
There in front of me on that menu were my previous opponents. A crawfish etoufee I had last spring that sent my mouth into a tizzy with its sinus clearing spice and the freshness of the broth and seafood. A plate of crispy fried chicken passed beyond my gaze to another table and I forced myself to look away. The breakfast menu had thankfully disappeared, forcing me to chose an item that wasn’t in what I feel is some of the best weekend brunch you can have in Chicago.
I buckled down for the Trout Pecan, which as the website lists as “Fresh boned Trout brushed with mustard then crusted with Pecan flour and grilled.” A Creole mustard sauce, a cross breed of vinegar and what tastes almost like a light Dijon, sat with a small dollop on the top. The fish was served flesh side up, the skin side, with it still on, facing the plate. The flakiness of trout, combined with nutty and mustard flavors had me hooked within a few bites. My sides of pan fried plantains in brown sugar and cheese grits that are good any time of the day presented a wonderful variety of flavor. I didn’t even mention that cup of Gumbo soup I had to start! The bed of white rice complimented and soaked up all of that seafood, tasso ham and spicy gravy that left a delightful massage of cayenne at the back of my mouth. The whole meal cost me about thirty dollars as well – not bad!
The Dixie Kitchen is an affordable stop for a glimpse into the variety of plates one could find in bayou country. If you missed out on celebrating what has become something of an American tradition of Marti Gras (in the long history of Carnivale) stop down at Dixie Kitchen in Evanston. I’ve never felt sad, hungry or displeased with my experience at every visit, especially for brunch.
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