Mardi Gras
2720 N. Stemmons Fwy
214-634-9669
Three things that are difficult to figure, at first glance. Is it called Gators Mardi Gras or just plain old Mardi Gras? Their Website suggests the former, but everything else points to the truncated name. And just where the hell is this place? Until you pull into the Stemmons Towers complex--and up to the right building--you'd never know it existed.
That's two things. The third has to do with kitchen hours, which you'll never find accurately listed online. When I called to find out, a guy answered "this is Chuck" (or Phil, or Arnold--something like that, anyway) and then launched into a conversation with someone at the bar.
It turns out they serve food until 10 p.m., with a break between lunch and dinner. But they really push the Mardi Gras angle, meaning the big party.
"This place is like Cheers," the manager told me as I waited on my order, gestering toward the couches near the bar.
Really? I don't remember Sam Malone and the gang hosting regular "High
Heels and Flywheels" parties or promoting wet pillow fights by the
fountain out back. Yet even as I left, the manager yelled "remember
happy hour" in my wake.
The place does seem to promise fun, in the rip off your tie and pretend
you're back in college kind of way. Or if you wear high heels and are
into bike parts. Food service is something you can skip, unless you
really want to give it a try.
Not that it's bad, really. They use ingredients from Zatarain's to give
some items a Cajun boost, but they prepare dishes adequately. Mardi
Gras' gumbo, for instance, is thick, filling and overt in its
spiciness, though lacking in that okra-sausage sheen. Po' boys come
with catfish or andouille--not fried oyster--and are hefty.
The andouille carries a solid punch, too.
Still, you can't escape the feel of a place better suited to heavy
drinking than fine dining. Even at midday, the room appears to be
waiting, biding its time until the happy hour crowd arrives.
Guess it really is like Cheers.
