Most of my friends in SF are from California or the East Coast. Not many of them are from Louisiana where I grew up. And zero of them are from Baton Rouge. So this morning, when I was interviewing New Orleans-native Randy Lewis of the new Criolla Kitchen and he told me that he used to find himself in Baton Rouge at the Silver Moon—a funky soul food dive that I used to love literally located on the other side of the tracks, giving it a thrilling element of white-girl danger—I wanted to give him a high five over the phone.
Silver Moon's incendiary smothered turkey! Please Randy Lewis, make that at Criolla so I can have it again.
Thanksgiving Day just got a little shinier. I was already excited about Yat’s, the legit po’boy (and gumbo and red beans ‘n’ rice and crawfish etoufée) joint that took over the Potrero Hill/Mission dive bar Jack’s during daylight hours last May. I haven’t been there yet, but this Saturday’s the day. As a girl who was (almost) born, and definitely raised, in Baton Rouge, LA, I consider myself a po’boy expert. I will report back.