Florida is for foodies

Florida Boulevard can give you the kind of agita that befell Michael Douglas in Falling Down. Dreadful stop-and-go. Little landscaping. Dead strip malls. Incoming cars. Traffic lights.

The street once drew patrons with gems like Bon Marche Mall. Today it’s a case study in bad urban planning.

Not that it’s not commercially viable—it still bustles. Not that it hasn’t seen innovative new construction—it has. But generally speaking, this east-west highway is the stepchild of local development, whupped up on routinely by other parts of town.

Maybe that’s why I like it. In the age of spit-and-polished squares awash in national vendors, you have to love an underdog rich in the locally owned.

Especially when it comes to food.

Amid the concrete are authentic po-boys, boudin, Vietnamese, Thai, Mexican, international groceries, fresh breads and pastries. This is not main street shopping among charming storefronts. But where else can you find beef jerky and galangal root within a couple of miles of each other?

Here’s a taste:

Two blocks east of the Mississippi River is Poor Boy Lloyd’s (201 Florida). Since 1968, the kitchen has constructed top-sellers shrimp and roast beef po-boys and more for downtown workers. The place has seen the neighborhood’s stability wane after the arrival of the interstate, then stir back to life in the late 1990s. On “seafood Friday,” the dark, single file line is at its longest, and owner Fred Taylor has said “hey bebbie” more times than he can count. Nearby, relative newcomers Harrington’s Café (329 Florida) serves comforting seafood specials, while The Buzz Café (340 Florida) presses fresh paninis and composes lush salads.

Beyond the interstate the four-lane road shoots harshly through Mid City, a neighborhood dominated by shotgun houses and Baton Rouge General. Community development corporations here have worked hard to create affordable housing for low- to moderate-income residents, but it’s an ongoing challenge. Nearby, the ghost of Paula and Faye’s diner sits next to the old Alamo Hotel. The Chevron Mid City Mart (1334 Florida) across from the Greyhound bus station is one of few eateries around, serving surprisingly good hot breakfasts to go from a small line frequented by blue-collar workers.

At Florida and Foster Drive, Baton Rouge Community College has breathed new life and commerce into the area. But across the boulevard is another ghost, The Place. The upscale spot’s many iterations all eventually closed. Fine dining hasn’t done well here in recent memory.

But ethnic has. Creamy, fiery curries call out from Thai Pepper (5958 Florida). Just east is another venerable staple, A-Z International Foods (6252 Florida), in business since 1983 at the corner of Florida and Marquette. Before feta cheese was ubiquitous, fans flocked here for fresh Greek, French and Bulgarian varieties by the pound. The small place brims with raw materials for the Middle Eastern and Latin tables.

Across Marquette is the routinely slammed Piccadilly Cafeteria (6406 Florida), a chain, sure, but one that got its start in the 1920s in Baton Rouge on Third Street.

A few blocks down is Baum’s Fine Pastries & Chocolates (8046 Florida), which opened in 1934. Inside, chocolate turtles, fresh-fried doughnuts, sand tarts and half-and-half “dobasch” cakes smile up from displays, with sumptuous texture and the tiniest homemade imperfections.

Wedged in the Airline Highway cloverleaf, but still officially on Florida, is Carlos Cajun Mexican Restaurants (8740 Florida), the creation of Carlos Urdiales, whose recipes have long inspired loyal customers. Our Daily Bread (9414 Florida) health food store is just southeast of Cortana Mall. It opened two decades ago with signature sugar-free, whole wheat breads, which are still made daily in more than a dozen varieties.

What better to chase the purity of Our Daily Bread, than the decadence of shabby Ronnie’s Boudin and Cracklin House #2 (9830 Florida) a few doors down. It’s a dive with roots in Opelousas, stocked with fresh boudin, spicy cracklins and smoked meats.

On this end of Florida, things look especially worn. But it’s where the biggest payoff lies. Pho Quynh Vietnamese Restaurant (11990 Florida) boasts steamy, medicinal pho, the soup Baton Rouge has come to embrace. Just beyond it on the north side is the dingy Florida East Plaza with its characteristic littered parking lot. It features Asian vendors like Café Dang’s (12385 Florida), which makes a heck of a $5 bun thit nuong cha gio, or vermicelli with charbroiled pork and egg rolls.

The anchor store, Vinh Phat Oriental Market (12351 Florida), offers a trove of Asian staples, mysterious, but delicious take-away items and household goods. Nowhere in town can you feel so utterly transported from Baton Rouge. This area is not called Little Vietnam officially, but maybe it should be to connect it to other ethnic corridors nationwide, surefire magnets for ingredient sleuths.

Grey and broken, Florida Boulevard continues well beyond the parish line, but it’s time to turn around. The journey back will be punctuated by red lights and uninspired views.

But it won’t be soulless.