Have It The Cajun Way At Alligator Soul

Aug 8, 1996

John Hinterberger

Seattle Times Restaurant Critic

----------------------------------------------------------------- Restaurant review

XX 1/2 Alligator Soul, 2013 1/2 Hewitt Ave., Everett ($ 1/2). Lunch ($5 to $7) 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Monday through Saturday. Dinner ($7.50 to $13.95) 4 to 8:45 p.m. Monday through Saturday. Closed Sunday. Beer, wine. Major credit cards. Nonsmoking area. Reservations: (206) 259-6311. -----------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing you learn upon passing through the front door of Alligator Soul, a funky storefront restaurant in Everett, is not where you are - but where you are not.

A sign prominently placed on a post facing the entry reads: "This is not Burger King. You will NOT have it your way. You will have it my way. Or you won't get the (obscenity)!"

Never mind. Sit down, and prepare to have "it," whatever it happens to be, Hilbo's way. He is not as irascible as his signage and his Cajun-style cooking approaches the divine.

Hilary "Hilbo" Craig is a well-traveled Southern chef, veteran of three tours in Vietnam (most of it on dangerous long-range recon duty). He still wears a folded colorful bandana knotted across his brow. "Hilbo" is about as much as you can Rambo-ize Hilary.

He opened Alligator Soul a year and a half ago; civilized white wicker furniture in the entry and eye-popping red-green-yellow chile tablecloths all over everything else. It is a very macho restaurant. Right down to the menu descriptions:

"Pepper Shrimp. This is a Cajun favorite, just don't get the sauce in your eyes or you'll go blind! Get a beer before you start. (You better get two!)"

So I got two iced teas. The shrimp (six for $7, including a center scoop of rice) were large, pan-fried, heavily coated with a deep scarlet, pasty spice-red pepper mixture, and unpeeled. Eating them neatly is impossible, and after a while not necessary.

They're a mess, but tasty

They're best when simply beheaded, popped into the mouth - exoskeleton, spices and all - chewed profoundly and whatever can't be safely swallowed, spit out. Or you can peel them and end up with red fingernails. Either way, it's a mess. But they're wonderful. Halfway through, I apologized to the waitress for the scattered debris and asked for five napkins.

"No problem," she grinned. "Most people ask for twenty."

All of the traditional Cajun/Creole standards are listed. Crunchy Chicken Gumbo ($7.50), Seafood Gumbo ($11.50), Crawfish Etouffee ($13.95), Shrimp Creole ($12.95), etc. And all are executed with a high level of competence. Craig not only knows bayou cookery, he appears to believe in it.

His barbecue sauce, for example, a pool of which resides under an order of a half-dozen mesquite-smoked pork ribs ($9.75) with another splash over the top, is so rich, complex and tart-sweet perfect that you end up licking not only your fingers (and the jalapeno corn bread) but the plate as well. The sauce, uncharacteristically, has baked beans in it. I seriously considered asking for a cup of it - and a spoon.

The ribs were accompanied by a fine red potato salad, loaded with celery and peppers, and a portion of slaw punctuated by a hearty infusion of cracked black pepper.

A lunch portion of Seafood Gumbo ($6) was equally well-seasoned, roaring with the flavors of file, sausage, mixed bell peppers, pickled jalapenos, onion, garlic, a dark brown ("chocolate") roux and okra, but sadly short of seafood. I found only a couple of small chunks of catfish. The gumbo itself, however, was outstanding.

The Crunchy Chicken Gumbo ($7.50) is a similar dish, but without any seafood and topped with a half-dozen breaded nuggets of "Fiery Fried Chicken."

One friend thought some of Craig's gumbos in the past had been oversalted, which I didn't encounter - although the level of other seasonings pushes well beyond daring.

You won't go away hungry

Jambalaya ($6.50) is served only at lunch, a massive oval piling of sausage and pepper-flavored rice, along with a resounding corn salad and a square of the house jalapeno corn bread. I walked in breakfastless and hungry; I still couldn't finish it.

The Bread Pudding with Bourbon Sauce ($3.75) is filled with pecans, peaches and booze-plumped raisins. It's covered with chantilly cream and dusted with more crushed pecans. As the menu warns: "I don't think you'd better . . ."

Hah. Moderation is fine, but only in moderation.

John Hinterberger, who writes the weekly restaurant review in Tempo and a Sunday food column in Pacific, visits restaurants anonymously and unannounced. He pays in full for all food, wines and services. Interviews of the restaurants' management and staff are done only after meals and services have been appraised. He does not accept invitations to evaluate restaurants.