I'm certainly glad I resisted the temptation to turn the two of us around and adjourn to another place when the hostess with the faint port wine birth mark on her right jaw rolled her eyes after I asked if credit cards are accepted.
You see, across the street at La Playa they take none; here at Crazy Cajun the sole reference to plastic is a small American Express placard, adjacent to the door handle.
Teenagers. You gotta love 'em.
So, we went into this humid and hot place, packed with patrons crowded around messy paper-covered tables, and took our place at one along the wall.
The sourdough bread brought to placate us during our brief wait for food was very nice. Not the best, but a nice way to start the meal. A racquetball-sized scoop of butter that would make my cardiologist faint accompanied our bread.
My Landshark beer arrived with a wedge of lime in a small clear plastic cup; but, it was chilly and welcome indeed.
I found the shrimp gumbo to be delicious, with a generous portion of shrimp chunks. My wife ordered the "Hungry Cajun" seafood boil, which came with crab legs, shrimp, some of the most succulent sausage I've tasted in my life, and no fewer than a half-dozen large shrimp, all steamed to perfection. Salty melted butter made is even mo' better. She'd waived the crawfish normally included, and got more shrimp instead.
It is crowded, and well-worn, but a nice place to stumble into after a day at the beach. Don't bother dressing up, and prepare to leave sweaty and spattered with some of the best cajun steamed cooking money can buy. Basic, but decent.