"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.