It’s been a long time since Juban’s Restaurant plated its first Hallelujah Crab, and even longer since Don’s Seafood and Steak House ladled its inaugural bowl of gumbo. Despite changing times and an explosion of national restaurant chains, the two homegrown eateries have lived to see impressive anniversaries. Next month, Don’s marks 50 years in the business, and Juban’s turns 25.
Each of the iconic spots is vintage South Louisiana. With its oyster bar, expansive family-friendly vibe, boiled crawfish and heaping portions, Don’s is the quintessential regional fry house. Juban’s took inspiration from the Creole restaurants of New Orleans and carved out a new niche between fine dining establishments like the now-closed Chalet Brandt and fried seafood spots like Don’s, Ralph and Kacoo’s, and Mike Anderson’s.
“We knew we couldn’t compete with places like that; they were doing a great job,” recalls Juban’s co-owner Miriam Juban. “But we thought there was an opportunity to come in between them and a place like Chalet Brandt.”
Smart move. Juban’s has nearly doubled in size since its founding, adding special event space and climate-controlled wine storage.
“We have tried to adapt and be flexible,” Juban says. “And we have been blessed with very, very good people.”
Don’s General Manager Roland “Duke” Landry credits his restaurant’s resilience with not reacting too quickly when the culture changes. His restaurant has remained consistent.
“Everything on the menu has pretty much stayed the same,” he says. True, Don’s fare deviates little from 1958 when it opened in Baton Rouge as an offshoot of the first Don’s in Lafayette. Duke’s uncle, Don Landry, opened the original in 1934. Duke started cleaning fish at the restaurant in his pre-teens.
“Our seafood platter, our au gratin, our gumbo, that’s what we’re known for,” he says. Duke Landry and his first cousin, co-owner Marlyn “Boo” Moore, have watched their family restaurant weather considerable changes over the last half century—including, says Moore, “Vatican II.” The early Sixties ecumenical council that allowed Catholics to eat meat on Fridays was loathsome news for seafood restaurateurs.
“Everybody was afraid of that,” she says, “but it turned out fine.”
Moore and Landry have also watched their restaurant’s neighborhood decline.
“We opened on Airline Highway because it was the main route between Lafayette and New Orleans,” says Moore, 75. But the expansion of Interstate 10 sloughed traffic off the state road. By the 1970s, Baton Rouge was growing south, and north Baton Rouge’s property values dropped.
But Don’s hung in there by retaining customers who worked in the nearby industrial corridor and by drawing in tourists. Ten years ago, the restaurant conducted its fifth renovation, which softened it with elements like exposed brick, antiques, and a hammered tin ceiling. Today, the restaurant attracts few South Baton Rouge residents but has growing numbers of patrons from Plaquemine, Central, Baker, and St. Francisville. Lunchtime at Don’s, particularly on weekdays and after church on Sunday, is routinely slammed, Landry says.
Juban’s was the brainchild of Miriam Juban and former husband Glynn. They opened in 1984 after Glynn apprenticed under restaurateur Mike Anderson for four years. The couple built Juban’s adjacent to an existing strip mall on Perkins Road owned by Glynn’s family.
The menu was crafted from dishes Miriam and Glynn had tried out on friends. One, deep-fried soft-shell crab stuffed with seafood dressing, was based on a dish by Acadiana food writer and then-restaurateur Marcelle Bienvenu. The Jubans incorporated their own elements, and their taste-testers loved it.
“They asked me what I was going to call it, and I said, ‘I guess seafood-stuffed fried soft-shell crab.’”
One friend scoffed at the simplistic moniker. The crab’s splayed open, crispy-fried legs were unique and irresistible. He had said to Miriam, ‘This crab is saying ‘Hallelujah!’”
