Cheap Eats - Posh spice

French Quarter Too! serves up Cajun for a hometown crowd

I imagine clicking my heels together as we pull into French Quarter Too! in a small Brookhaven strip mall. Lunching at this restaurant three hours after a red-eye flight from my New Orleans home means I am unusually snarky about its claims of authenticity. The restaurant’s interior looks less like the cobblestone and fountains of its namesake and more like a Big Easy uptown hole-in-the-wall gem. I feel a little better when I spot the signs advertising Wednesday night crawfish boils. The walls pay tribute to Mardi Gras, and shelves are lined with containers of Zatarain’s and Tabasco sauce.

Some like it hot: Cajun restaurants often mistake Cajun food to mean blisteringly spicy. Tasting my gumbo, I see immediately that French Quarter Too! understands the textured and often garlicky seasoning that truly denotes this genre. Still, this dark and swampy soup is rich and flavorful. Served warm, heat emanates from both the spices as well as the gumbo’s temperature.

The restaurant’s secret blend of spices falls short in the jambalaya, however. Though the texture feels right in my mouth, it lacks the cayenne kick of good jambalaya. I think back to the running joke of New Orleanians who carry their own spices in their purses; I wish I had followed suit. Though a nice break for those not accustomed to such seasoning, I miss the usual bite of the andouille sausage I know from home.

Roll up your sleeves and dig in: Once you’ve had a real po’boy, a regular ol’ sub just doesn’t measure up. Though I’ve always sworn that the best po’boy comes from behind the back counters of little Louisiana superettes, FQT’s dripping-with-gravy roast beef po’boy might just prove me wrong. Though the bread is not homemade like those mom-and-pop fixtures, FQT doesn’t cheat with a hoagie bun. Be warned: This sumptuously sloppy must-have is only available at lunch.

Lagniappe: Upon a second visit, we enjoy some of the smaller dishes in the evening cool of the patio. The fried appetizers disappoint. Gator bites, similar to chicken fingers, are dry and tough. (If you really want the novelty of alligator meat, try it in soup.) The crab claws are an over-fried disaster with meat that either crumbles down your chin or sticks to the claw.

Fortunately, these dishes are not at all characteristic. One side dish that deserves special praise is the red beans and rice. For someone who doesn’t particularly like the dish (it’s a common saying that you’re not really from New Orleans if you don’t love this traditional Monday staple), I am surprised by the contents of my over-heaped bowl. It has a porky smokiness that melds with the other flavors and makes for a perfect companion to the rest of your meal.

Laissez le bon temps roulez: By the end of my second meal, I feel at ease like I’ve never before felt in Atlanta. We drink deep, cold Abita Amber, pick at the remainder of the boozy, darkly spiced bread pudding, and tell funny stories while they close down.

“Y’all come back, now,” calls the owner over his shoulder as we walk out. I grin at his smooth suburban accent. It may not be exactly like home — but I’ll be sure to come again.

whitfield@creativeloafing.com