1 /5 Ben Mcpherson: Now I aināt one to gripe much in writing, and Lord knows Iāve eaten enough poā boys at Darrellās in my life to be considered something of a professional in the matter. In fact, there may not be a better sandwich on the planet than a well-done Surf & Turf from Darrellās in Lake Charles. Thatās not just my opinion ā everybody I know who travels the I-10 corridor agrees: itās a rite of passage, a must-stop, a Louisiana institution sandwiched between road miles and bayous.
But hereās the thing: Iāve had three ā count āem, three ā separate strange, disappointing experiences at the Jennings location, and itās got me scratching my head and finally putting pen to paper.
On this particular day, I was headed from Texas to the beach in Bama. I timed it just right ā i was driving past Jennings right at 11:15 according to the gps, Lake Charles wasnāt open yet, and Jennings was right off the road. Easy. I called in my order around 10:55: one Surf & Turf, one Darrellās Special. Shouldāve been simple. But the woman on the phone kept talking over me, insisting on finishing my order before I could say it. Like Iād walked into a conversation that didnāt need me. Still, I stayed patient ā let her recite my own order back to me until we got it right.
Now hereās where the story turns Forrest-Gump-weird. I pull up to the drive-thru window, and just before it opens, my cat ā my traveling buddy ā decides to jump from the backseat to the passenger floorboard. The lady sees the movement and gets a wide-eyed look like she just caught me burying a secret. She opens the window and says, āDonāt worry, we wonāt tell anyone what youāre up to.ā I laugh, thinking this is one of those oddball Louisiana moments you just roll with. I tell her it was just my cat jumping up front. Deadpan, she says again, this time like Iād just committed a felony: āSir, we will not call anyone. You are okay.ā
So now Iām sitting there feeling like Iām in a David Lynch version of a Cajun deli commercial, just wanting my sandwich and to get back on the road. She hands me the bag. I drive off.
And hereās the kicker ā the food is all wrong. The Surf & Turf had no roast beef. None. And the shrimp didnāt even have seasoning. It was like someone dropped a scoop of plain boiled shrimp onto bread and called it a day. Iāve eaten enough Darrellās to know what itās supposed to be, and this wasnāt even close.
Look, I get it ā not every place hits a home run every time. But this was strike three at the Jennings location. And Iāve even emailed about past experiences before, trying to give the benefit of the doubt. But enough is enough. Itās not just the wrong order ā itās the vibe. Bizarre service, inattentiveness, and a total miss on what should be one of the best poā boys in the South.
Iāll still stop at Lake Charles every time I can. That place has never let me down. But Jennings? Wellā¦ like Mama said, āSometimes, you gotta know when to just eat the chips and keep driving.
