Asian Cajun
2400 West Alameda Ave.
Brandine Nguyen:
Have you ever left a restaurant, leaving platefuls of food? I now have. And the Asian Cajun had so much promise, in my imagination. Without doing any prior research (my first mistake), my curiosity led us there. I was picturing a fusion of two of my favorite cuisines; something like, oh I don't know, General Tso's Crabcakes or Crawfish Kung Pao. Delicious, right? I was reminded of when I used to have a cooking club with several friends and we would have an annual fusion dinner where we would literally pick two different cuisines out of a bag and come up with fusion recipes for them. I still have a special place in my heart for my Chinese – Southern creation: Chickety China the Chinese Chicken Pot Pie.
Lady Fanny of Omaha:
You know how sometimes you see a sweater or a scarf at Target and think, “Microfleece is just as good as cashmere, and more budget-friendly, I’ll buy it!” But then you actually try on cashmere at a local boutique and you know you will love it like you will never love polyblend? D Bar is cashmere, Asian Cajun is not.
Brandine Nguyen:
Rather than several fusion dishes, The Asian Cajun serves two completely different kinds of food, reflected in the two-sided menu; one side lists the Cajun dishes and on the other side are the Asian dishes. Here was my second mistake: fusion is one thing, but I try and stay away from restaurants that serve two completely different types of cuisine because I'm not convinced that most staff can master both. Think about Piccolo's in South Denver that makes of mess of both Mexican and Italian food or, of course, the Taco Bell / Pizza Hut and KFC / Long John Silver combos. Speaking of Long John Silvers, you are reminded of it when you walk into the Asian Cajun. The booths are on a pseudo pier. That, combined with the drop tile ceiling and industrial tile floors, makes one feel like they are dining in a Bayou 7-11 packed with Asian people (and a couple of rednecks at the bar). We did enjoy the groovy ambiance that a BeeGees and Isaac Hayes soundtrack provided but even Barry Gibb couldn't make the food taste any better.
Lady Fanny of Omaha:
That said, it seems absolutely unfair to judge a seafood restaurant when going in I knew I did not like or even eat seafood. It’s like going to see a Chuck Norris movie—I start out with no love. Yet in both cases—Asian Cajun and Chuck Norris—there is a devoted fan base, so who am I to deny them or call them names?
Brandine Nguyen:
I tried the only two items on the menu that were actually fusion: Asian Cajun Crab Dip and the Asian Cajun Style Boiled Shrimp. The crab dip was overpoweringly crabby. Rather than deliciously delicate crab meat, I was overwhelmed with a salty, fishy crab; maybe one who lived to a ripe old, grouchy age and had been out of the water too long and was pissed off about it. The Asian Cajun Boiled Shrimp was just that. Boiled shrimp with Asian and Cajun spices. It came in the shell, in a bag, in a bowl. That's just too many layers between me and my dinner. Now, anyone who's anyone has a shrimp philosophy and here's mine: I like my shrimp like I like my men – naked and clean. I grew up too land-locked to appreciate faces on my seafood. Whenever I am served a whole seafood I have a brief moment of panic that is opposite of that anxiety dream where you walk into a classroom naked except it's “Oh shit! My dinner is fully clothed what do I do? What do I do?!” Here's the other thing about shrimp – I'm a mother of two young children so when I go out with grown-ups after the kids are in bed, the last thing I want to do is clean more poop. I am a firm believer that shrimp, like my children, need to learn to wipe their own asses. I just don't have the time or the patience to de-nude and clean my own dinner that I am paying for; it seems like something that you would hire someone to do for you behind the scenes – like a chef! But I have to say that Isaac Hayes did make the shrimp peeling seem a little more intimate as if my shrimp and I might need a private booth on our dock.
Lady Fanny of Omaha:
First bite of Asian Cajun dip served with neither Asian or Cajun tortilla chips: “Oh, this is gross.”
Brandine Nguyen:
Lady Fanny of Omaha's dinner wasn't any better. The Fried Rice: oily, the Chicken Satay: greasy, the accompanying peanut sauce: oily. We felt almost bad for the young, sweet waiter (even if he did keep forgetting about us) as we explained to him that, no, we didn't need a box. And that maybe we just weren't Asian Cajun type of people after all (as if we'd aspired to this). All I can say is “Sorry Lady Fanny”. But I'm always up for culinary adventure and how does the saying go? An adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered or some such thing. So, a culinary adventure is blindly choosing a fusion joint on East Alameda and walking away hungry but still laughing.
Asian Cajun Décor: Long John Silver’s
Asian Cajun Waitstaff: friendly, though tardy and a bit clueless
Asian Cajun Food: For us, inedible. But truly, the place was full of people happy to devein their own shrimp, shell their own crabs and so on.
Asian Cajun Saucy Talk: We all know ethnic humor only works when a group makes fun of itself, so this sign on the kitchen door must be hilarious to the regulars: “Wong Way”
Asian Cajun Tip: That harsh interrogation lighting over the tables must come in handy for those peeling their own crawfish and seafood.
D Bar
1475 E. 17th Ave.
Lady Fanny of Omaha:
After a 45-minute standing room only wait at D Bar, two entrees, two desserts, two glasses of wine, a cup of tea, and a cozy blanket, a realization that it was worth the crosstown trek for a later-than-anticipated dinner.
Ode to D Bar:
You have never let me down
When I have a night on the town
When I had a little belly ragin’
For a taste of something Cajun,
There you were.
Brandine Nguyen:
After the Asian Cajun debacle, we were not just hungry but (as they say in the Bayou) Hongry. Lady Fanny suggested D Bar where there was a 45 minute wait in a tiny space. But the tiny space was next to a heater and in view of the lovely little pastries in the dessert case. D Bar is a niche for those who are looking for late night light bites with a good dessert and glass of wine. The kind of place you might go for an after show date or if your original dinner option fell through (because of a weird fusion experiment, for example). Apparently, a lot of people go there for their birthdays, too. D Bar is a place where they enlist the patrons to sing happy birthday to diners. Not quite Chili's annoying but almost after the second time. The food was good, though. Simple, smaller plates are served with reliable flavors. My cheese melt and tomato bisque soup hit the spot since it was getting late; Definitely nothing I would wait 45 minutes for but the company was good (awwww) and the wine and dessert were very delicious. The dessert is really the draw here. Think upscale milk and cookies and a dessert they call “Molten Cake Thingy Everybody Has... (Steamed with a truffle inside!)” That is seriously the name of the dessert on the menu. Their wine list is equally as funny and creative. I remember some wine described as the feeling you get when running from monsters? Or something like that. Fun little place. Oh – and they give you blankets! Perfect with your milk and cookies. If only they would change the birthday song to a lullaby.
D Bar: Décor: Clean and simple
D Bar Waitstaff: Well, our waitress laughed at all our jokes so….we love them!
D Bar Food: Yummy! Small plates entrees leave plenty of room for their ample desserts.
D Bar Saucy Talk: Size doesn’t matter.
D Bar Tip: Underdressed and feeling chilly? DBar has you covered with baby blue (albeit polyblend) blankie wraps.
