“Are they even open?” It began as an inside joke between me and my wife, Shyla, but as it turns out, most people don’t know whether or not 1910 is actually open.
Granted, after the storms of 2020, some businesses are coming back online later than others, and not all participate in grand opening fanfare.
It’s been a few years since I first wrote about my experience at 1910. It was a late-afternoon solo lunch in a packed house that offered only a single vacant seat at the bar.
The large load-bearing post limited elbow room for a lefty, but the food and atmosphere were well worth the compromise. 1910 was the popular place to be on a beautiful afternoon.
A lot has changed since then.
Often when I’m driving in downtown Lake Charles, the lineman statue sitting at the corner of Ryan and Kirby Streets catches my attention, and I often strain to look through the windowpanes of 1910, which is directly behind it, trying to see if perhaps anyone is inside.
A quick internet search revealed the restaurant is indeed open, and I convinced my wife we should consider 1910 as the focus for the next Table Salt column.
In order to have a truly organic and natural dining experience to relay to readers, I rarely ever call ahead for reservations. When I do make reservations, it’s under a different name, and I often use my wife’s phone number.
However, in this instance, I decided to utilize the messenger system to ask for reservations. A few hours went by without reply, and I realized that there may be a special event that closed the restaurant to the general public. We had a contingency plan as we prepared to leave the house. I was confident that we would be able to slip in without revealing my name. However, when we were only a few minutes away from the restaurant, a reply came across the screen, confirming our request.
Downtown Lake Charles was particularly quiet for a Saturday night. That’s not a surprise unless you’ve been in suspended animation; many are aware of the impact a dismal economy has had on our community. Many restaurants are feeling the strain from increased cost of supplies, ingredients, leases and overhead in general. Combating an ever-slimming profit margin, some restaurants resort to passing the increasing prices to the customer, lowering the quality of the foods, or practicing “shrink-flation.” Diners have coined this new term in restaurant phraseology just recently; it simply means offering smaller portions at the previously fixed price, and it’s a direct result of economic inflation.
I was surprised to see the hostess stand vacant, fronted by a “Please Seat Yourself” sign. The interior was gorgeous. Soft lights accented the belt of blueish green coral walls against the deep flooring and oak tables throughout the dining room.
Shortly after we took a seat, our hostess, Tasha, welcomed us and placed a pair of paper menus on the table. One was an extensive specialty drink menu, the other an appetizer and entrée menu.
Taking a few moments to look over the specialty drink selections, Shyla found the Blackberry Mint Smash, a refreshing and balanced whiskey cocktail — a visually stunning sipper with lemon, fresh blackberry and mint. I’d almost locked in on the cucumber mojito until I came across the Second Marriage — a chilled vodka martini with smooth Caribbean citrus hints of lime and orange, with the subtle sting of habanero bitters to add a little spice to the finish.
Looking over the appetizer and entrée menu, we found the options intriguing but minimal in variety. There were a handful of appetizers and a few salads, but fewer hearty main entrées to consider.
Shyla chose a simple fried green tomato appetizer — lightly breaded fried firm tomatoes nestled in a horseradish cream sauce. I decided to try Quail Bombs — a trio of garnet-colored tender quail breast that offered a nice contrast between the salty bacon, the sweetness of Steen’s syrup drizzle and a little jalapeño heat.
Neither of us were in the mood for steak, so my wife chose a simple Cherry Burger — a prime Carriere Farms beef patty drizzled in a Steen’s cherry syrup with crumbled feta and a side of fries.
As for me, if I find the opportunity to order a pasta dish over any sort of rice, I’ll always lean that direction. The Pecan Basil Chicken looked appetizing. I received a large platter of fusilli pasta and chopped pecan tossed with chunks of chicken. The beautiful aroma of garlic and fresh basil filled the air. I was maybe two or three bites into this dish when my wife picked up on the quizzical look on my face.
I offered her a bite. She hesitated but took it. The “chicken” was questionable, at best. Was it tofu? No, It was bland canned chicken. I guess the chef hoped the sauce would carry it.
The fact that a restaurant of this caliber would attempt to pass this off as a $28 pasta dish may help explain the seemingly obvious decline in its popularity.
We set the dish aside, figuring a dessert drink may be the best decision before calling it a night. A rich espresso martini with a thick dalgona foam rounded out the evening for us.
If the amazing beauty of the building and Jason’s artistry and talent behind the bar were accompanied by cuisine even remotely worthy of the price, I could almost guarantee 1910 would see an increase of patrons visible through the glass panes.
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