Small Town Chefs 2020: Joey Najolia

When Chef Joey Najolia and his wife Brandi first opened Café Lynn in 2007, the larger-than-life mythos of the great Chef Chris Kerageorgio loomed large over the Northshore. The founder of the Lacombe institution La Provence, the Port St. Louis-born Kerageorgio—with his riveting personal history in the French underground and the Merchant Marine—had died that February a revered master of French cuisine in the New Orleans area. And here was the final chef de cuisine of his iconic restaurant, in an old Burger King in Mandeville, attempting to serve meager (although, actually quite superb) red beans and rice with a pork chop.

“Can’t you whip up a filet au poivre? A veal picatta?” Chef Najolia’s customers would ask.

“At heart, and at home, Joey’s really a one-pot kind of guy,” said Brandi, who manages the front-of-house at Café Lynn. “That is the kind of food I really like,” Joey agreed. “Jambalaya, shrimp creole—real soul food, not a lot of ingredients, simple.” But, alas—“People knew La Provence, and they knew Chef Chris,” said Brandi. “They knew that’s where Joey came from.”

Today, seated at the couple’s linen-tabled, chandelier-dimmed restaurant, a diner must only look to the art on the powder-blue walls to discover this “where”—this happyland of rolling hills, layered terra cotta roofs, and clustered wildflowers. This is no longer the town’s old Burger King (an association Brandi said they never quite kicked) filled with the charming bric-a-brac of relatives’ leftover furniture and the couple’s wedding gifts—a genesis Brandi fondly described as “like our first apartment.” Having moved just three blocks down the road into the more spacious location once occupied by French Market Crawfish and Seafood, Café Lynn’s identity has matured with a measured elegance and confidence, acquiescing to their customer’s expectations for fine dining in a comfortable, non-pretentious space. “The art on the walls represents our roots, our French Provençal background,” explained Brandi.

The couple and their restaurant owe much to the spirit of Provence—first emulated in Kerageorgio’s restaurant where they met: Joey a sous chef, Brandi a waitress. A Delgado culinary graduate, Joey spent altogether eight years working at La Provence, developing his skills in French culinary practices under the mentorship of Kerageorgio himself. When Brandi joined the team in 2001, Joey was already preparing for his second excursion as a staigiaire, or trainee chef, in France. For his first trip, taken in 1999, he had apprenticed at a ritzy hotel restaurant in Orleans called Le Rivage. This time, he’d be stationed at the Michelin-starred La Petite de France, in Provence.

“Because we worked together, I was initially hesitant to go on a date with him,” said Brandi. “But then I heard he was about to leave, was going to be gone for six months. So I was like—well, what have I got to lose? Of course, we hit it off, and went on three or four dates before he left. Then, once he was gone, he’d call me and tell me all about it.” When Kerageorgio started planning his annual summer in the South of France, where he’d be checking on Joey, he—noting their connection—invited Brandi to come along.

“We got to know each other there, in France, for a month,” said Brandi. “It was this really unique thing. I didn’t come up cultured, had never eaten French food before I worked at La Provence. So I was really open and excited to experience all these new things. I had so many firsts there. Meanwhile, Joey was working constantly and learning so much.”

“I’d show up in the morning there,” he described it. “Fish was sitting on the doorsteps. We’d spend an hour and a half cleaning fish and lobster and chanterelle mushrooms. I learned not to take shortcuts, do it right—all the way, every time.”

"I'd show up in the morning there, and fish was sitting on the doorsteps. We'd spend an hour and a half cleaning fish and lobster and chanterelle mushrooms. I learned not to take shortcuts, do it right—all the way, every time."

This culinary philosophy ties into equally Provençal values such as using simple, fresh ingredients with an emphasis on locality and seasonality to enhance—rather than disguise—natural flavors, and is the hallmark for Joey’s approach to Café Lynn’s menu. Everything—from the stocks to the soups to the mayonnaise—is made in-house, and every bite of seafood is sourced straight from the Gulf, and never frozen.

“He is a total crab snob,” said Brandi. “He will not order pasteurized crab meat. When we can’t get it fresh, we take it off the menu.”

Luckily for this writer, at the time of our meeting, crabs were in season and presented grandly in three courses across the tableau that was my lunch: claws glistening in a fragrant pool of garlic and herb butter; melt-in-your-mouth fin meat folded delicately in swaths of cream and swiss cheese in an au gratin; and then soft-shelled and fried, dressed in Grenobloise Sauce with brown butter, capers, and red onions—a generous and decadent topping to the perfectly seasoned filet of speckled trout Joey had recommended, which in its turn sat upon a wonderfully absorbent pile of green beans and roasted potatoes. This is not to mention the earlier brightness of the Lynn’s Salad, which sneakily incorporated the sinful pleasure of fried goat cheese into a pious bowl of cucumber, tomato, red onion, and bell pepper. Less sneakily, Joey topped the bowl of vegetables with a lamb chop—“just cause that’s my favorite thing to eat.”

When, in between mouthfuls, I asked Joey to explain his definition of “classic French Provençal cuisine,” he said that it’s more about technique than rigid cultural fidelity. “We’ve got the classic French dishes—duck confit, fish almandine, panéed chicken. But we also have eggplant parmesan, alfredos, fried shrimp sliders—these Italian and New Orleans dishes. For me, it’s more about how things are prepared, that they are prepared in a classic manner, than anything else.”

“Many people have the impression that ‘French’ food is a bunch of heavy sauces and cream, but really the Provençal style of cooking is all about fresh ingredients and simplicity,” said Brandi. “Yes,” agreed Joey. “A lot of olive oil, a lot of garlic, herbs—lots of tomato.”

Throughout the course of our interview and in between edible courses, Joey would apologize and head back to the kitchen. Towards the end of the lunch rush on a Thursday—“They need me back there.” He later told me, “I’m very much a chef that’s working right next to my cooks. I’m not an office chef. I tried to be, but I just got bored sitting over there—I’d rather be in the mix, be in it. I like the rush of being busy and getting organized alongside my crew.”

In a neighborhood establishment such as Café Lynn, in a town such as Mandeville, being close to the crew is also being close to the community. Over the years they’ve forged relationships with their staffmembers that last far beyond their stints at the café. Brandi pointed out paintings on the wall, distinct from the pastoral villages. “Those are done by one of our golden children,” she said of a longtime waitress. “We’ve probably sold fifteen of them.

“We’ve got a quite a few that have come up with us, who still have such a special place in our hearts even after they leave,” she said. “And her grandfather is still to this day one of regular regulars.”

These—“the regular regulars”—are as responsible for shaping the identity of Café Lynn as Joey and Brandi are. “Our menu really came up to serve what people wanted,” said Joey. “As a neighborhood restaurant, your customers like what they like and want what they want, and they come into the restaurant once or twice a week, and they develop their favorite dishes and come to expect certain things.”

“Mandeville is a small town, small community,” said Brandi. “But man, they’re loyal.” In return, Joey has remained committed to crowd favorites—but more than that—to consistency, especially when it comes to quality. His specials, though, are where he indulges. “Depending on the time of year, we’ll run the fun stuff—things like crab risotto, shepherd’s pie, shortrib lasagna, stuff to just keep us creative, stimulated—but still maintaining that classic approach.”

For the Najolias, like most restaurant owners, the past few months spent navigating a global pandemic have been turbulent, and have called for countless adaptations. But this time has also been filled with affirmations. In times of trouble, Joey said, it’s good to know that your team will show up for you. “You learn about the kind of people you’ve got working for you. Everyone just dug in and said, ‘We’re gonna make this work.’ It’s been eye-opening.” The community showed up too, in some ways even more than before. “Having everyone at home searching for local to-go food online and on social media, we worked harder to get our name—and more importantly, our menu—out there,” said Brandi. “People who never really understood what we do discovered us for the first time.”

And throughout it all, even when seafood became difficult to source and when the menu had to be reduced, the Najolias kept their part of the deal too: serving consistently fresh, thoughtfully prepared, classic dishes to the community who has supported them for so long.

When it came time for dessert, Joey dared me to try and fit just one more thing in. Scanning temptations of strawberry cobbler and crème brulee, I opted for a New Orleans favorite: bread pudding. Across the table, Brandi mouthed: “Good choice.” And though Joey had earlier provided that he is “in no way a baker,” the first bite of creamy, custardy indulgence ensured that––despite all odds—there would be a second, and a third. Sugar, bread, butter, milk, a rich creamy sauce. A classic. 

Café Lynn

2600 Florida St. 

Mandeville, Louisiana

cafelynn.com