For my trip to Zydeco Po-Boys, I have elected to order everything on the menu that has the word “Zydeco” in it, mostly because my employers will reimburse me in the name of journalism, but also because I need a themed reason to eat anything these days. Fortunately, such ad hoc roulette of thought has rendered three solid choices: The eponymous Zydeco Poboy, replete with an unctuous pot roast debris; the aforementioned Zydeco Freeze, featuring live nude Ruston peaches; and the Zydeco Chicken Salad. It’s not lost on me that this column is both self-righteous and hyperbolic, but I’ll be damned if it’s not the best chicken salad this fair city has to offer. Far too often, gourmet chicken salads surrender to chunkiness in the name of transparency. When I eat chicken salad, I want mechanical separation and mayonnaise. The geniuses at Zydeco have devised a third way — white breast meat, wholesome with a fine shred. Or maybe it’s the capers. It’s probably the capers.
Pro Tip - As the blind poet said, you can’t win friends with salad. But you can win friends with chicken salad.