Theme restaurants get a bad rap from seasoned food gurus, and perhaps rightfully so. Motif and message so often hog the spotlight while food is relegated to a supporting role. Other theme restaurants cater to the young’uns (and the young’uns in us). So when a couple of well-traveled bon vivants I know — Kris and Chris — swore by Voodoo Bayou, its adult Crescent City flair and Live and Let Die backdrop, I was a bit surprised by the rec considering the restaurant is a chain (from True Grit Hospitality, makers of the very goth-Mex Calaveras Cantina) run by the ex-veep of long-shuttered BB King’s Blues Club.
“You gotta try the grilled oysters and redfish with extra chili butter,” said Kris. “And their beignets,” said Chris. Oysters, redfish, chili butter, beignets … hey, I was sold. Besides, with Mardi Gras season upon us, the timing seemed right.
So I pulled on Voodoo Bayou’s snake-shaped door handles and immediately found myself immersed in a space of dark, moody, Crescent City esoterica. I saw a couple seated on an elevated platform in Louis XV chairs with a pair of roaring leopard statues next to them. In a matter of seconds, the duo were spun around into a secret lair, just as Roger Moore was in that classic 1973 flick. I later came to learn that the false panel leads to Roka Hula, an Asian tiki bar speakeasy. Hokey, sure, but pleasantly so.
I hadn’t made reservations, and we were on an hour-long wait list, so we checked out the hidey-hole bar long enough for us to know that sticking around wasn’t, as Solitaire revealed many times to James Bond, in the cards. No, Voodoo Bayou’s bar was a lot more our speed. Plus, the barkeeps who tended to us were proficient and personable and made drinks with names like Blanche Devereaux Vol. 2 and Voodoo Child, which came stamped with an edible Jimi Hendrix.
Those potent potables were thoroughly enjoyed along with deviled eggs ($14) embellished with trout roe and espelette pepper, and the butteriest biscuits ($14) glazed with jalapeño-pear jam and honey butter. Seemed as though the kitchen had its mojo working, so when we took our seats in the dining room (those chairs are heavy, BTW), we were ready to have a bon temps.
Then I caught a glimpse of the Marra Forni “Voodoo Maker” oven in the kitchen. “Get the grilled oysters,” said the voice of Kris in my head, and these chili-buttered James River plumpers licked by the flames of hickory wood went down easy. Big easy.
Another wood-fired wonder: redfish ($39) served on “the half shell,” that is, with skin and scales still intact on the fillet. The paint of chili butter wasn’t heavy-handed in the least, but crunchy, undercooked grains of Carolina white rice exposed a malison in Voodoo Bayou’s kitchen. More hard bits of rice plagued an otherwise honest serving of shrimp and crawfish étouffée ($28), earning its two-pepper designation on the menu courtesy of an infernal Creole sauce.
On another visit, crunchy (not crispy) kernels comprising the dollop of rice sitting in a very Prudhomme-esque gumbo ya ya ($12) forced me to eat around the kerneled mound, then set it aside in favor of a po’boy with prime rib ($25). Satisfying enough, but the crust of the French bread lacked any semblance of crisp, crackle or flake. You’re better off with the jumbo shrimp ($19) set in a fiery “Nola BBQ” sauce served with a grilled baguette, or perhaps fried green tomatoes ($18) topped with thick slabs of pork belly, pimiento cheese and tomato jam.
Both were solid recs from our very capable server who, like the bartenders, appeared to have a grasp on the importance of good customer service. And, of course, she urged us to end with the beignets ($12 for a box of five), which we were going to do anyway.
Worthy? Let’s just say that when I paid a return visit to Voodoo Bayou, I ordered another box of these deep-fried wonders. Will very likely make a trip down to Sand Lake Road for yet another box. Eating one is filling enough. Eating two had me considering leaving my car in the parking lot and ride-sharing it back home. Eating three? Hell, one more bite and I would’ve met the same explosive fate as the Bond villain Dr. Kananga.
Voodoo Bayou
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This article appears in Feb 26 – Mar 4, 2025.
