The New Orleans Connection

Beyond a too-little-too-late awareness of the geographical vulnerability of the city of New Orleans, it's difficult to find many positives in the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina. But here's one: the Katrina Diaspora, which is steadily spreading the glories of Creole/Cajun cooking to areas of the country where it has been all but nonexistent.

In the valley, the diaspora has brought us The New Orleans Connection, which honors its roots -- and honors them well -- with a vast variety of Po'Boys and sausages and most, if not all, of the other classic dishes.

Crawfish Etoufee ($13.99), for example, is about as classic as it gets, and we created a real Cajun extravaganza by choosing red beans and rice as our side. Want authenticity? We got it with this one, studded with lots of crawfish tails, little nuggets with that distinctive, almost-crabby-but-not-quite flavor, and the earthiness of a lightly browned roux. The main seasoning was the sauteed onion-celery-green pepper mix that's so classic as to have become known as the holy trinity of Cajun cuisine, but there was a pronounced hot-pepper kick for a bit of afterburn as well. The red beans and rice was deftly prepared, the tender beans with just enough liquid to moisten the fluffy rice.

The other side offered with this one is a choice of house salad or potato salad, and we chose the latter; while not being particularly Cajun, it was particularly tasty, a well-seasoned mayonnaise-based version that was served atop shredded lettuce.

I've never been a big fan of gator -- your basic tastes-like-tough-chicken with just a hint of the bayou -- but it's rare in these parts, and the Florida boy was jonesin' for it, so a fried alligator platter ($13.95) it was. And surprise: This rendition was much less tough than most (which is not to say it was tender, but that's your basic gator), and the breading added an element of crispness that was quite complementary.

Sides with this one: a dirty rice and jambalaya, both of which showcase the Cajun natural talent for making a silk purse out of an odd assortment of pigs' ears, and both of which I'd order again and again.

And somewhat of a surprise: sweet potato hush puppies ($2.99), which arrived with a blizzard of powdered sugar and which were sweet enough that we saved them for dessert. Their resemblance to a regular ol' hush puppy was scant; we thought of them more as denser and heavier sweet-potato-flavored beignets.

All of this was eaten from plastic trays and plastic-foam bowls, with plastic flatware. You order at the counter and pull your own fountain beverages (oh, and sweet tea is offered, in the finest Southern tradition), although our food was brought to our table. The place isn't fancy, but it was shiny-clean on the evening of our visit and brightened up with a collection of New Orleans-themed stuff such as street signs and Mardi Gras beads.

It also was all but empty on the evening of our visit. That might be because, while it's on a busy corner -- the southwest quadrant of the intersection of Eastern Avenue and Silverado Ranch Boulevard-- it's a little tough to spot on the inside of an L-shaped outparcel and facing away from the streets.

Or it might be because of the slack economy; we've noticed a lot of empty and near-empty restaurants lately as dining-out dollars become harder to find (but please support the mom-and-pops, people; there are some real -- and good-value -- finds to be had, and besides, the chains are better equipped to survive).

It's definitely not because of the food and the service. Katrina may have brought untold misery to New Orleans, but it brought a little bit of sunshine to our part of the world.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@reviewjournal.com.