At C’est Si Bon Cajun Po’ Boys and Seafood, they sell their “tiger sauce” from a protective glass case on the counter. And that’s probably smart because this magical mutagen has the power to turn the best catfish I’ve ever tasted into something I can’t stop fantasizing about, like a fried-food-obsessed Lester Burnham. It’s the way those rose petals fall — from a source that could only be Heaven — across those golden, lightly breaded morsels. (Am I the only one seeing this?)
I’m not the world’s biggest fan of lake food. With few exceptions, my past catfish dinners have not impressed. Those mustached, bottom-feeding swamp monsters look a lot like chicken fingers once they reach your plate, yet often they’re gross on the inside. But at C’est Si Bon (pronounced “Say See Bon”), 101 N. Douglas Blvd. in Midwest City, catfish gets a much-needed revival. Those who attended the Oklahoma City Festival of the Arts a few weeks ago have likely learned this already. The C’est Si Bon booth won first place for “best savory,” which is saying something considering its celebrated competition.
After my first taste of it at the festival, tracking down the source of this goodness was imperative. Tucked into an unassuming strip mall, with a confusing sign that most prominently reads “Catfish,” C’est Si Bon is easy to miss, even if you’re looking for it. The menu rattles off countless Cajun and Creole staples, from frog legs to gumbo. But I’d say the flagship is the catfish, and you can get an unholy one pound of the stuff, along with two sides and a cup of bread pudding, for $9.99. My order came out in a grease-slickened to-go box with plastic cutlery, even though I was dining in, but the no-nonsense presentation fits C’est Si Bon’s austere aesthetic just fine. With two booths and four tiny tables, this is a true hole-in-the-wall, and I’m so glad it’s now on my radar.
For my two sides, I selected jambalaya and crawfish étouffée from a bevy of options, which also included collard greens, french fries, mac and cheese, boudin balls, red beans and rice, and plenty of other tempting things. Unfortunately, both of the sides I chose were forgettable compared to the main course, and the jambalaya was dry, but they were still tasty, especially when introduced to tiger sauce. However, the bread pudding was a perfect, sweet complement to all of the salty madness.
C’est Si Bon is open 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. Monday through Saturday, and 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. Sunday. They accept credit cards. The name means “It’s so good” in French, and while daring to use such a brazen name for a restaurant should generally earn an eye roll, this beacon of Cajun goodness, squirreled away in an obscure pocket of an Oklahoma suburb, wears its name like a perfectly fried crown.
