"Thatsa
some spicy shrimp" say fans of this "casual" Cajun trio
known for its "addictive" crustacean namesake, a "scrumptious"
house dish, plus "innovative" creations that are "definitely
not health food"; ..... insiders wise to chef-owner Jack Jasper's
zesty ways suggest "if you can't take the heat, order the scampi."
Hot Cajun Meal Awaits
Kathy Mader
Good Cajun food is difficult to
find in Orange County. There aren't a lot of Cajun restaurants, and
the places that do exist serve a pale, cooler and overall lesser version
of the kind of food you might actually find in the Bayou.
Jackshrimp is the exception. Jack
Jasper and his partner Nicole King's heavily Cajun-influenced restaurant
is definitely a more-is-more kind of place: more jumbo gulf shrimp,
more flavor, more spice, and yes, more heat.
Located on West Coast Highway just
south of Tustin Avenue, Jackshrimp's newly improved decor makes waiting
for your table a much more pleasant event than t he old days when you
had to wait in the parking lot. In their new upstairs waiting area,
you can enjoy a game of pool or darts with a cold beer or glass of wine.
The Neville Brothers in the background adds to the restaurant's authenticity
and puts you right into the mood for something bayou-like: something
saucy and steamy.
The restaurant itself is small,
with jazzy art hanging on rum-colored walls, teakwood accents, quiet
ceiling fans, and warm lighting. The various restaurant reviews on the
walls remind you of the far-reaching interest this place and its food
generates. Large glass doors open to a windowed patio that keeps only
some of the traffic noise out, but all of the rich, peppery smells in.
The patio is definitely the best seating in the house.
You don't really hit the Big Easy
until you start eating. Then you are as close to an accordion playing,
Cajun family reunion as you can get. Start with the tangy Caesar Salad
($3.95) or an artichoke ($6.95) served with a homemade mayonnaise jacked
up (if you'll pardon the expression) with cayenne pepper and other spices.
They also offer a convincing gumbo ($4.25) or a delicious corn and crab
bisque ($5.50) to jump-start your dining experience.
Jackshrimp ($15.95), the main attraction,
demonstrates why it is important enough to name the restaurant after,
with jumbo, succulent shrimp floating in a large bowl of Jack's now-famous
buttery and spicy sauce. Did I say spicy? For those of you in the know,
this is Emeril's BAM! Times three.
Don't bother asking Jack the secret
to the sauce, he ain't givin' it away, chile. While Jackshrimp is for
the purists, Jackrice and Jackpasta ($13.50) provide this same sauce
over - you guessed it - rice or pasta.
The warm, fresh, French bread that
arrives colander after colander is as important to t his meal as the
swamp is to a gator, for several reasons. One, it serves as the one
true vehicle to see that every drop of this savory sauce is t transported
safely to your mouth; and two, it helps to lower the temperature in
your mouth once the heat has set in. You find yourself stuffing this
delicious bread in, long after your stomach has registered in the uncomfortably
full zone.
If you can't take the heat, get
cool with tasty Scampiness ($12.95), large gulf shrimp in a garlic,
basil and white wine sauce served on a bed of steamed rice; or Sweet
Thing ($12.95), sweet Louisiana shrimp and chunks of chicken seasoned
with sweet basil, garlic, and a splash of white wine over angel hair
pasta.
If shrimp isn't your thing (what?)
the Mardi Gras Pasta ($11.95) with vegetables in a light tomato cream
sauce might interest you. And you get the bread no matter what.
Jackshrimp is the local source
for jambalaya, a dish that defines genuine Cajun cooking. Jammin' Jambalaya
($12.95) is the real thing, with Louisiana andouille sausage, chicken,
onions, green peppers, and Jack's secret spices, all over a plateful
of rice. Put out the fire with a Dixie Blackened Voodoo lager or one
of their several cool chardonnays. The wine and beer list is rather
small but should cover every need.
Jack extends his secret recipes
to a zesty homemade lemon tart ($4.50) and a Frosty Peanut Butter Pie
($4.50) that transforms the peanut butter we know into a light, fluffy
and positively scrumptious finish. Totally worth stuffing in.
Jackshrimp in Newport Beach serves
lunch only on Fridays, but the lunch menu merits making the trip. Bourbon
Street never seemed closer than with Jackshrimp's Louisiana Po'Boy sandwiches
of Cajun-spiced chicken or butterflied shrimp. Their salmon sandwich
($8.95) and a barbecue tuna melt ($6.95) sound like Southern fare sure
to cure the blues. Look for Jackshrimp's annual crawfish boil around
Mardi Gras time (early March) and make a special visit for their blackened
prime rib specials during Monday Night Football season. If, in the next
couple of weeks, you find yourself humming Devil Moon with no time to
head to the gulf and bag your own fresh shrimp, let Jackshrimp take
care of the dirty work so you can let your mouth make the trip for you.