At upscale Cajun places - anomalies that thankfully exist in defiance of the root cultural forces at play; Cajun is not intrinsically fancy but it dresses up well-almost always opt for some kind of fried catfish avalanches with some kind of etouffe or, in this case, a rich creamy crabmeat situation. This pileup is so decadent and outlandish an idea, no moreso than the existence of Cajuns to begin with. Catfish may be low on the totem pole as fish go, eating God knows what in the murky depths of fetid ponds, but it can take a sauce like a champ. The crabmeat was too heavy by itself as it always is, but paired with a fork full of catfish it floats like a cloud.
The appetizers were crabcake-oriented and it was deemed that a little lump crab goes a long way. I posited that one could eat an entire small mixing bowl of boiled shrimp or crawfish, but could anyone eat that much crabmeat in a sitting?
Two oddities about Prejean's: 1) they have kennels available to house your dog while you eat, and 2) the had a Cajun fiddle trio going in the restaurant which was broadcast out to the parking lot where you wait on benches for your table. A nice touch, until you enter the foyer where said broadcast is blaring at a painful volume, like rock concert loud. It was the tourist entrance to the Cajun sector of the Epcot in hell. How people were sitting in that foyer enduring that two-step onslaught was beyond me. I'd have given up the troop locations or released all my child brides from the compound were "Don't Mess With My Toot Toot" employed at such a volume against me to do so. I'd rather wait for my table in the kennel.
But, whatever. The catfish was divine, enough so to carry one's name.
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