Landry's Seafood House: Cooking Florisiana Style
14059 Emerald Coast Parkway, Destin, 650-1881
By Bruce Collier April 27, 2003 Issue
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If you do any amount of driving in and out of Destin, you've seen Landry's from the road. It looks like an old-fashioned movie theatre, marquee included. The building houses one large and several smaller dining rooms, including a smoking section in the bar area. As befits a Louisiana-inspired eatery, there's full liquor service.

We wanted a smoker-friendly table, so we sat near the bar. My friend started things off right with her Old Fashioned challenge. The unflappable bartender, who doubled as our waitress, rose to the occasion. While we drank, I looked around.

Unlike some large restaurants with smoking sections, Landry's does not skimp on room for diners who smoke. Our booth was large and the banquette seats (to use a New Orleans expression) were comfortable, rather like old-fashioned car seats. We came at 5:30 and the place was fairly empty, but by the time we left (around 7) it was all but full. Interestingly, the noise level was minimal. We had no trouble hearing ourselves talk and the background music (mostly Cajun tunes) was audible but not intrusive. A walk to the men's room was easily made through the more than adequate space between tables. For a family-style, tourist oriented place, Landry's dining rooms indicate a pretty sophisticated sense of restaurant design. With the possible exception of a weekend during the height of the summer season, I could see Landry's as a likely spot for a grownup dinner for two.

Landry's menu is a triple fold. Appetizers, soups, salads, sandwiches and pasta are on page one. Main courses and house specialties are listed on page two, and fish and sauce combinations are offered on page three. The menu is laced with invitations to customize entrees by adding grilled or fried seafood, specially prepared sauces, or half-and-half combinations. One could eat at Landry's for quite a while and not repeat a meal.

I ordered the “Sicilian” calamari, which came fried with a sweet/tart/hot sauce, and almost chutney-like strips of saut»ed peppers and onions. It tasted more Asian than Sicilian, but I liked it, despite the fact that the squid was fried in a kind of beer batter, which tends to soak up oil. The portion was enormous, and ordinarily I'd have shared it. But we had to cast our nets wide, so my friend had a starter as well. She ordered sliced tomatoes with fresh mozzarella and an oil and vinegar dressing. Four thick slices of flavorful tomatoes came with what looked a little like ice-cream scoops of springy mozzarella. It made a welcome contrast to the calamari.

There followed garlic bread and a bowl of house salad, designed for sharing. The salad had a pleasant, slightly creamy and tangy dressing, plenty of croutons, and was more than enough for two.

My friend ordered one of the combinations, called a “Continental Divide” on the menu. It was a variation on the New Orleans custom of the “peacemaker,” a nickname for any sandwich or meal that combines two items to settle disputes between diners. She chose grilled shrimp and fried catfish. The shrimp were very large, butter flied, and simply prepared, which let their natural sweetness come through. Two equally generous filets of catfish occupied the other half of the plate, and came hot, crisp, and in every way just what you'd want from a catfish.

I went for broke and ordered the catch of the day (Tilapia) served Pontchartrain style, which entails topping the fried filet with lumps of crabmeat, butter, and sliced mushrooms. This is very popular in New Orleans, often served with grouper or veal. The crabmeat was free of shells, very sweet, and heaped all over the filet. Rice pilaf and steamed string beans and carrots came with it. I wasn't able to transport any leftovers that night, so I managed to eat all of the fish, but I imagine you might want a box for yours.

Listing the other items on the menu would take up another column. A random sampling: crawfish fried and etouf»ed, gumbo, seafood po-boys, fried and grilled fish, oysters raw, fried, or baked in various styles, crab, steaks, chicken, pork, and assorted pasta combinations. A list of classic and not-so-classic sauces is available over pretty much anything you'd like. The restaurant also offers to tone down the oil and butter if requested.

Desserts are not listed on the menu proper, but instead are displayed in the lobby. I do not know of they are the same every night, but among the offerings on this night were cheesecake, chocolate mousse cake, key lime pie, and a variation on Bananas Foster involving two crepes, vanilla ice cream, sliced bananas and a brown sugar sauce. My friend got the mousse cake and I ordered the bananas. The cake was chilled, which tends to muffle the chocolate taste, but as it came to room temperature the chocolate flavor came fully through. The crepes could have fed a trio, and I relinquished about half to my friend and her lucky dog. If you've ever tried Bananas Foster made traditionally, prepared table side with a lot of liqueur, butter, sugar, and panache, you'll note a resemblance, but this dessert could stand nicely on its own. The whipped cream was really close to the genuine article. Share the desserts—trust me on that.

Ten years of living and eating in New Orleans taught me that in some places, there's no such thing as too much of a good thing. The food of southern Louisiana is robust, rich, and never served in small portions. Landry's Seafood House marries the wide variety of seafood available from Florida's Gulf Coast to the in-your-face excess of Cajun/Creole cooking with hearty and satisfying results. If you aren't very hungry, go elsewhere. (Top)