I grumpily and ignorantly said, “I’m not into gator.” How uncultured and boring of me I thought minutes later when the deep-fried cluster of chewy morsels were set in between my husband and I. They were perfectly salty and very similar to, well, sorry but deep-fried calamari.

There was a wide-array of beers from across the country and world, including the New Orleans favorite Abita. The wine list was thorough as well, but I was in the mood for beer. I ordered Allagash White (from Portland, MA oddly enough.) Hubs ordered an Abita and the gator with creole remoulade and an order of boudin balls.

For dinner I had crawfish etoufee and cornbread muffins and Hubs had smoked chicken and andouille gumbo. I claimed mine was better, I do love a meaty bite of crawfish, and I felt his was milder in taste. Hubs claimed the opposite. To note, a very San Francisco addition is the choice of having either brown or white rice with the cajun stews. We both ordered white rice, brown just felt way too healthy.

Atmosphere was cool, lights and shades and tables were all trendy and eloquent. One complaint, and a big one for me, was that the tables are just about 6 inches apart along the window. If Hubs and I weren’t so immersed in our catch-up conversation we probably would have sat there mum and listened to the couple 6 inches to our right thoroughly enjoying their beignets.

I appreciate being able to drive 10 minutes to get to Southern Louisiana cuisine, even if I think Elite Cafe can still give Boxing Club a run for its money. But then again, I didn’t try the bloody marys.

Boxing Room – 399 Grove Street, San Francisco

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