Mar-Apr2016_Final-FlipBook

the Seafood issue

a good half hour, beb”), white beans and rice with French-style meatballs, and smothered whatever was fresh from the garden. I often wonder what four or five choice words my grandfather would have for the currently popular culinary phrase from farm to table. Four to five printable words don’t come to mind readily. This is when I would hear all of the amazing stories of the glory years of the White Tavern. Giant seafood platters were $3.00, a little pony was 25 and the place was packed on Saturday nights and Sunday after church.The restaurant opened in 1949 when my grandfather struck out on his own after working for his father and brother at Danos Nite Club and Tee-Lee’s Dance Hall.

where he kept little Cokes, Zatarain’s homemade root beer and large blocks of ice. I instinctively knew that my Yankee uptown mom (she was from Baton Rouge and New Orleans) would not want me behind the bar or looking at the décor consisting of antique rifles and taxidermy, a single old-fashioned slot machine and pin-up girl calendars. So I would quickly hit up my dad for a quarter or two for the jukebox so that my younger sister Gigi and I could twist and shout and later crocodile rock while Papa was in the kitchen. Papa would set a booth up with sparkling silverware, and soon we would be feasting on the most delicious fried potatoes I have ever eaten, fried chicken (“that’s gonna take

Raceland Dancehalls & Bars Raceland was home to several famous dancehalls and bars. A search of www. louisianadancehalls.com turned up several 1930s spots, including Danos Dance Club, a bayouside institution, the Tokio Fun Pavillion and popular Tokio Restaurant, and Cheramie’s King Tut Saloon, which advertised curb service and “your best and last chance for fine drinks of all kinds.”

TURTLE SOUP Before I go any further I should say that I have lived most of my life as a city girl. So when Rouses asked me if I would like to write about my family, I jumped at the chance to spend time bolstering the family lore with first-hand facts from the family who lived next door to Papa his entire life. Paul Bourgeois, Mr. Paul as we knew him, was my grandfather’s closest friend, and when we visited, he would show us the turtle cages in the back of the restaurant and let us watch him clean fish or tinker with his various homemade fishing poles and nets. I knew that his children, who were a little older than me, would know so much more about the White Tavern, and boy, did they.

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MY ROUSES EVERYDAY MARCH | APRIL 2016