A Date with Progressive Perkins

The marriage of old and new in the Perkins overpass area

Baton Rouge could never be confused for a walking city. In fact, common points of conversation range from the never-ending rush “hour” to the derangement of every driver who isn’t you.

But when you can walk, and the weather is forgiving (or we forgive the weather and just crack open a beer)—boy, the city offers some beautiful pedestrian stretches.

Some of these strolls have their Thoreauvian leanings, predominantly featuring foliage and solitude. For a slightly noisier occasion, consider the Perkins Road Overpass area. Relatively old standbys abut newcomers such as the sushi extravaganza Rock ‘n Sake and much-buzzed-about Magpie Café, with its offerings of vegan and vegetarian options as well as artisanal coffee and authentic Italian espresso.

Before moving to New Orleans recently, my boyfriend and I chose the Perkins Road overpass area for a last date night in Baton Rouge, We had often ventured there for past outings—Chelsea’s is a particular favorite, with its elevated take on home-style cooking and excellent draft beer selection—and it seemed appropriate to bid the city adieu in an area so indicative of its overall flavor.

The neighborhood includes hair salons, pharmacies, and a dry cleaner—not just restaurants, though those are cropping up all the time. One of the most beautiful aspects of the area is the sense that new businesses have flocked there, ears perked to an infectious song in the air. And it’s heady fun to chime in, sampling the increasing range of dining options and enjoying a type of vibrant and contagious development in which businesses are not wiped out by growth, but buoyed.

There’s a fantastic quote from Cajun fiddler Dewey Balfa in this vein: “A culture is like a whole tree. You have to water the roots to keep the tree alive, but at the same time, you can’t go cutting off branches every time it tries to grow.”

And who would want to lop off such natural offshoots as Schlittz and Giggles, a pizza joint reminiscent of pre-patched jeans in that it’s designed to feel lived-in (though far less aesthetically goofy). The staff welcomes, with irreverent exuberance, all walks of life—even if those walks aren’t exactly in a straight line. Schlittz has proven ideal for pub-crawls and parade days, and for a tomato and cheese-laden nightcap.

Recent import Street Breads is another Louisiana brainchild, a sandwich shop from Lake Charles. The goal of owners Josh and Melissa Priola was to recreate popular international street foods, with options like the Mediterranean Portobello, the Argentinian Sierra Beef, and the Deep South. It’s a perfect fit for one of Baton Rouge’s few pedestrian havens.

For our ambling date, we moved through the old guard—Zee Zee Gardens, DiGiulio Brothers, Chelsea’s, and Duvic’s—but the newer establishments have slid easily into the district. With the exception of Jimmy John’s “freaky-fast” delivery, (which at many a lunchtime promises an end to the demanding growl of my stomach), most of the restaurants offer leisure and the simple pleasure of just hanging out. No fluorescent lights or pounding top 40. Feel free to stay a while.

This craving for leisure is not unique to Baton Rouge residents, but it has become something of an art form: to extend evenings, to continue to enjoy each other’s company, to stretch out the sweet, perfect moments.

The overpass area contains most everything you could ask for on an inexpensive night out. Armed with fifty bucks and memory-gathering gazes, we snagged a couple of sweating Abitas and a table by the slatted windows at Zee Zee Gardens. I clinked the lip of my Purple Haze against his Amber, and we laid out the evening plans. The easy back-and-forth of the pub denizens proved welcome, not alienating, like a sweeping party scene in a movie minus the slip-‘n’-slide or ominous undertones.

We synced up our final sips of beer and stepped out into the dusky air—summer evenings are so refreshing after the oppressive heat of the afternoons, and the short stroll was a pleasant one. The body takes on a buoyant step when headed toward the promise of delicious food. With the fried eggplant appetizer, DiGiulio Brothers did not let us down. The restaurant interior teemed with the Saturday evening crowd, but we were seated quickly outside. Overhead, the ceiling fan whirred and stringed lights blinked the red, green, and white of Italy’s flag (and much of their incomparable cuisine).

For the next leg, we were on to Chelsea’s, where we had to force ourselves to decide on one menu option (washing down this bitter pill with Sierra Nevada pale ale on draught). We didn’t quite succeed in this endeavor, ultimately tossing a salad into the mix along with smoked pork loin au jus for an entrée. The sesame spinach salad was served surprisingly hot, with sautéed mushrooms, tomatoes, and onions and a spicy sesame barbecue sauce. Scooping up the leaves, we enthused together about the unexpected delight of a warm salad.

The shared experience of hopping from place to place provides ample conversational fodder, whether the twosome is an OkCupid connection or an old married couple. There are the menu items you haven’t tried, the cocktail you fervently recommend to your companion, and the mild regret tempered by anticipation as you leave one place for another. All this and you haven’t even discussed the weather or the news.

Another plus of the area—you don’t need to break the bank to venture there. Difficult menu choices are made far easier by the feasibility of a return trip. And with the pressure similarly lifted in terms of wardrobe, there are few external forces to prevent a satisfactory evening.

We got a little creative in our dessert choice, making an inaugural visit to Duvic’s. I had of course heard of—and already decided on—its signature chocolate martinis. Dessert without the calories! We sat at the bar and watched as the bartender expertly applied chocolate swirls to each conic glass, chatting with us all the while.

Our final stop was Radio Bar, a short drive down the Acadian Thruway, where we perched in our usual spots out on the patio. Nearby a man in an ultra-patriotic vest animatedly talked with a friend. Closer to the ping-pong table, an enormous Great Dane nicknamed “Big-Big” sniffed down at a terrified Yorkie. Most of the bar occupants were complete strangers to me, yet I felt a strong sense of community.

It’s an almost identical sensation by the overpass. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves on this late June night, but this is no hard-and-fast itinerary. That would be irresponsible, considering the bevy of winning combinations for any couple seeking a shared adventure within a familiar realm. Although your date may technically be with just one person, you reap the benefit of a content crowd, assured that a good time is available in almost any direction.

In this marriage of new and old, Baton Rouge has nurtured and expanded tradition, ultimately creating a contemporary culture hub with deep, well-tested roots.

Details. Details. Details.

Zee Zee Gardens