As a fan of both andouille and smoked meats, it would naturally follow that I would love a place like Wayne Jacob’s Smokehouse in LaPlace. But I only went there once many years ago with Tom to try the andouille, and I didn’t love it. At all. It was way too large in circumference for my taste and generally underwhelming. I have never understood the phenomenon.
A few years ago I had Jared Zeringue, the latter-generation owner on to discuss his new cookbook (Southern and Smoked) which was so replete with charming stories about his life in the family out there that I read it cover-to-cover. I couldn’t wait to return to Wayne Jacob’s to try it again. It has taken two years to do that, mainly because I was intimidated by how to get there. It turns out it is absurdly easy, and I’m ashamed for taking so long.
We walked in through a side screen door next to a blackboard announcing the day’s specials: spaghetti and meatballs (huh?) and an artichoke soup with…tasso.
The place is charming. When we were last there it was more of a pick-up counter. Here was a nice dining room, simple and rustic, featuring Jared’s grandmother’s table that he had just restored. The walls were filled with memorabilia and articles about the place.
We ordered at the counter while snacking on some sausage samples. I wanted to try the fried andouille chips but they were fried. I settled on the hogshead cheese. For entrees, we got a sampler platter of smoked meats and for Tom fried catfish and housecut fries. And I had to try the soup.
All entrees come with a side salad, so within minutes of sitting we were brought two salads that were the most basic ever. Here was chopped iceberg lettuce. Period. And you know what? We loved it. The lettuce was fresh and crisp and the pieces were easy to eat. Unfortunately, the dressings were boring, both the vinaigrette and the Ranch.
The soup and hogshead cheese arrived next, and our fortunes did not improve. I am a hogshead cheese fanatic, but I have never seen the like of this. It was not a clear gelatin. It was brown throughout, and quite dense. It had a few chunks of fat and meat, but like the andouille, it was the antithesis of my ideal head cheese. The sauce for dipping was a bright orange, and really spicy.
The soup was as weird as I thought. Anything with artichokes can’t be bad, and this wasn’t, but neither was it good. Creamy and lumpy, it at least had a lot of artichokes in it.
The entrees were much better. Tom was crazy about his catfish, and so was I. It was farm-raised Delta catfish in slabs rather than strips, served with a housemade tartar sauce and housecut fries. A place like this is about the last place I’d expect to see housecut fries, but here they were. I only wish they were better.
They were thin but greasy and limp, and that made me sad. But anyone going through the trouble to do this deserves kudos for the attempt. I just wish it had ended better. Tom ate every scrap of these anyway. Tom ate every bit of everything on that plate, and I was jealous. I never eat farm-raised catfish but this was just delicious. Sweet and flaky, the coating just right, this was terrific. And the housemade tartar sauce was one of the best I’ve had, and I am a tartar sauce connoisseur. Lemony with just the right amount of stuff, this was outstanding.
My smoked platter included Baby Back pork ribs, brisket, sausage, and chicken, with BBQ sauce and a side. The ribs were not falling off the bone but neither were they chewy. They were just right though leaning toward chewier. I didn't tell them no sauce, but the sauce was light.
The sausage made absolutely no impression taste-wise, though I did find the grind too tight for my taste.
I have never seen brisket in a smokehouse served this way, but it was sliced so thin it could have been for a sandwich. That’s not a complaint. I liked it, but it was distinctive. I didn’t detect any crust or smoke flavor, but it was fine.
Every time I am at a barbecue house, I completely ignore the poultry. And every time I get it, I remind myself I should do it again. The chicken was the best thing on this platter. Tender and smoky, I liked this a lot.
The BBQ sauce was odd. It was so think it was more like a paste. It was not especially sweet or smoky, just odd. The same is true of the baked beans I got as a side. They were not sweet, but more like the BBQ sauce, and they weren’t even as soft as baked beans should be. They weren’t hard as my beans tended to be before I understood the concept, but they were not what they should be as baked beans.
Jared came over to say hello, and I asked him if he had any of the cornbread from yesterday’s red beans special. He brought out two gorgeous pieces of cornbread. I wanted to try it because it had cracklins in it, and I was intrigued.
It was gorgeous. Fluffy and perfectly golden, I was excited to try it. The cracklins imparted no flavor as I could tell, but it did make it moist. Almost too moist. It went into the freezer. I will use this for Thanksgiving cornbread dressing.
This is such a mixed report that you might think I’m not recommending a visit. I am. It’s a fun little trip. Old residential LaPlace is charming, and the food is fine, like most everything else you are likely to eat. It is indeed worth a visit.
