When it comes to authentic Cajun cuisine, the true test lies in how it measures up outside Louisiana—and sometimes, the results surprise everyone. But here's where it gets controversial: can a British pub truly capture the essence of a Louisiana classic like the shrimp po-boy? And this is the part most people miss—things often don’t translate perfectly across different cultures and countries, especially when it comes to regional foods.
British influencers Josh Cauldwell-Clarke and Jase Riley, renowned for their love of Louisiana culture—from savoring raw oysters and cheering for LSU football to indulging in boudin by the bayou—spent part of their trip exploring the Pelican State in May. Over the course of their journey, they traversed Shreveport, then headed south to Lake Charles, which warmly welcomed them with open arms. Their adventure continued through towns like Scott, Houma, Lafayette, Baton Rouge, and finally New Orleans—leaving behind a trail of crawfish shells and French bread crumbs as memories.
By the time they departed back to the UK, their affection for Louisiana was palpable, having soaked in local recommendations about where to eat, what sights to see, and unique places to explore. Their heartfelt goodbye marked the end of nearly six months of cultural exchange—yet their stories were far from over.
Recently, Josh and Jase shared a fun discovery: they came across a pub in North Yorkshire called SO BAR! that claimed to serve Cajun-style dishes. Intrigued, they decided to compare this British version of Cajun food with the flavors they cherished from Louisiana. Inside, the pub’s decor was distinctly British—more modern and stylish—while the menu featured familiar slang, like calling sandwiches “sarnies,” a typical UK nickname.
They settled at a table and ordered a shrimp po-boy to share, along with a generous side of Cajun fries. Skeptical at first, they wondered how authentic it could be. When their po-boy arrived, Cauldwell-Clarke took the first bite, describing it as “very flavorsome.” However, he admitted that it had a milder spice profile than the spicy, bold versions they enjoyed back in Louisiana, calling it the “British version” of the classic. Riley, who considers himself more of a foodie, also appreciated the meal, highlighting the notably larger shrimp.
The British take on the po-boy diverged from the traditional Louisiana style in several ways. For instance, the shrimp were coated in a thicker, panko-style crust rather than the typical light batter. Instead of the usual mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato, and pickles, the sandwich was dressed with aioli and topped with crisp lettuce. Additionally, the bread was softer than what one would expect from a traditional po-boy, which often features a crunchy, French-style baguette.
Although they rated the British version quite favorably, Josh and Jase still hold a special place in their hearts for the po-boys from Lake Charles’ Darrell’s, which they consider their favorites. At Darrell’s, they enjoyed a specialty po-boy filled with ham, turkey, and roast beef, generously topped with jalapeño mayo, along with the “Surf & Turf” option—featuring sliced roast beef paired with sautéed shrimp.
In the end, this experience sparks a fascinating conversation about authenticity in cuisine and cultural adaptation. Can a dish truly be Cajun if it’s made in another country, with a different style and ingredients? Or does the essence lie beyond ingredients—the spirit of the food and the memories it conjures? What do you think—should food adaptation be criticized, or celebrated as a sign of cultural fusion? Share your thoughts in the comments!
