Chef Carol Baugnon

Grand Coteau, population 931, is best known for the documented miracle that happened in 1821 at the Academy of the Sacred Heart. If you’re looking for the second miracle in Grand Coteau, stop by Creola Café and meet Chef Carol Baugnon.

Creola Café is an unlikely restaurant. For one thing, it doesn’t have a stove. Chef Baugnon creates sheer magic in a space about two feet long and about a foot deep—with a little rolling cart for flexibiliy. Food preparation—with electric skillets, rice cookers, and a small oven—is akin to culinary choreography. However meager its kitchen, the food served competes with that prepared in top kitchens around the state or beyond. “I don’t know anybody who can do what I do in what I’ve got to do it in. I only have four outlets in the kitchen—and I use all four to cook and keep food warm,” Baugnon said.

Creola Café seats twenty-two people indoors—about double that when the weather cooperates and outdoor seating becomes available. The cozy dining room feels more living room than restaurant.

Don’t let the chef’s resourcefulness belie her competency. Feeding a crowd may require more planning than it would in most kitchens, but she pulls it off without a hitch.

Baugnon, who was in real estate for thirty years, started the restaurant nine years ago. “I was just burnt out; but it’s hard at my age to start a new career,” she said.

Back in 2006, shortly after the gentleman who owns the building that now houses Creola Café attended a wedding Baugnon catered, he contacted her to see if she was interested in opening a tearoom. “I told him, ‘No, but I would be interested in opening a café,’” she said with a laugh. “I called my sister in New Orleans and told her what I was going to do. She said, ‘You’re out of your mind. You’re sixty-five, and you’re going to open a restaurant?’ I explained that I wanted to do what I wanted to do finally. Then I told her, ‘I need a name right away,’ and she suggested ‘Creola.’”

Baugnon redid the small space in black-and-white toile and checks. “After nine years, I still think it’s adorable,” she said.

Now seventy-four, Baugnon grew up in New Orleans. She learned to cook from her mother. “My mother was a wonderful cook,” she said. “She cooked gumbos, oyster and rice dressing. I learned it from her.”

Watching Baugnon now run circles around everyone else makes one wonder if she’s found the secret of youth. “How do I do it? I wish I knew. I could bottle that and sell it,” she said. “I just put one foot in front of the other. Somebody’s got to do it, but I love it. Somebody asked me, ‘When are you going to retire?’ I just couldn’t visualize my life at home folding clothes. I like the interaction. I love the cooking part. I love my little business. I could have expanded it but was afraid I would lose what I have here.”

Baugnon is able to work within the physical constraints of her kitchen by sticking to a highly structured weekly routine. “Sunday is my day of rest. I wake up late. Monday, I bake. When I bake, I bake twenty layers of cake at a time,” she said. “Tuesday is my prep day and big grocery day.” On Wednesdays through Saturdays, she gets up at 5:30 each morning to arrive at the restaurant by 8 am. She plans what she’s going to make and then goes shopping. “I go shopping every day. I have one refrigerator and one freezer,” she said. “This morning I cooked a soup, a roast, the white beans, the steak on the grill to put on the salad. By the time Misty got here at 9:30, I had all that going. We just don’t have extra time or space. We’ve got to be organized.”

She uses a lot of old New Orleans recipes and creates new ones from the wellspring of her imagination. “People say, ‘Oh, we’re going to come next Thursday. What are you going to have on the menu?’ and I laugh because I have no idea. That’s what I think about when I go to bed at night—what do I feel like making tomorrow?”

Even after nine years, Baugnon looks forward to coming to work. “I’ve never had a job I felt this way about,” she said. “Everything I fix, I really put my heart and soul in it. Everything has to be fresh. I’m picky about shrimp and everything else. I’m constantly searching for people I can get fresh fish from. We’re a little bit pricier, but that’s the kind of food we serve—quality food.”

And the quality shows. Baugnon has developed a loyal following for her lunches—primarily soups, salads, and sandwiches—and for her occasional Saturday evening dinner parties. Baugnon keeps a running list of people interested in attending the events, and when she’s ready to have one, sometimes as often as every other Saturday, she makes calls. The first twenty-two people who RSVP enjoy a memorable evening. “Since I don’t have a stove here, I do it in electric skillets and soup pots. I do a four-course gourmet meal in soup pots and a little grill,” she said.

While the little café is lovely by day, at night it glows with candles on every table. Baugnon greets each guest almost like a mother welcoming children home. On a recent Saturday night, Baugnon and staff served perfectly cooked crab cakes followed by a shrimp salad, crawfish pie, and bacon-wrapped asparagus and ended with a light berry-and-cream crêpe for dessert. The Saturday night meals are special. One of the guests who attends many of the dinners has a lovely voice, so just before dessert was served, Baugnon clinked a glass and introduced the entertainment for the evening: Dee Weber, from Lafayette, belted out Etta James’ “Sunday Kind of Love” followed by Faith Hill’s “Like We Never Loved at All.”

Surveying happy customers enjoying the food and each other, Baugnon said, “The big lesson is, you have to follow your heart. I wish I would have done this years ago.”

Details. Details. Details.

Creola Café

284 Martin L. King Road

Grand Coteau, La.

(337) 662-3914