The new Bayou Portland's best breakfast joint changes, and stays the same BY ANDY KING
	Bayou Kitchen Bayou Kitchen 543 Deering Ave., Portland, (207) 774-4935. Open from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Mon. through Sat., and from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Sun.

The little radio behind the counter at the Bayou Kitchen is saying something about Paul Bremer and Fallujah. One of the patrons at the counter stops playing with her napkin. "Can we turn this shit off?" she sighs, and the station is adjusted to something a little more appropriate for the hot and steamy air burning the pavement outside:

"Red Neck Woman."

I am there for the express reason of tasting the Bayou Kitchen’s version of Louisiana’s classic sandwich, the Muffaletta, having been nudged in that direction the day before by its new owner, Sienna Vincent.

"It’s the best," she said confidently. "It’s got ham, salami, provolone, and olive salad . . . see that couple over there?" She gestured her pink Red Sox cap over to a deuce along the far wall. "They’re sharing a half sandwich. We got a guy that comes in here every day and orders one. Eats it all day."

And it’s not just the owner that likes to talk about the Muffaletta. While I am waiting for mine to come up (just a half-sandwich, thank you. A whole is served on half a loaf of Botto’s Italian), I can hear Sienna, cook Katrina Millet, and the talk radio-hating patron discussing what makes it so good. Is it the olive salad? The bread?

"You know, I think it’s the perfect blend of hot and cold ingredients," Katrina philosophizes while plating one up, and then walks over to my table. "I hope you brought your camera for this momma!"

Unfortunately, I hadn’t. But the sandwich proves to be all that they discussed: lots of meat, hot melted cheese and cold tomato, and a piquant olive salad soaking into the soft loaf. A side of home fries, not French fries, tops off a gut-buster of a lunch, and I tell everyone as much as I waddle out of the newly decorated Bayou Kitchen.

When Sienna bought this restaurant in November of last year, she knew that she didn’t want to change a thing about the food. She knew it worked and that it filled a niche, and especially that patrons wouldn’t appreciate any big surprises. She herself used to stop there for breakfast all the time, on her way to work as a controller for a local flower shop. Her daughter would sometimes wait on her, and she had a pretty good relationship with former owner Yvonne Faulkner. So when the place came up for sale, she knew she had something good.

Good, but difficult.

"I thought it needed some spiffing up," she said of the new sign, new ceiling, laminated menus, bench seats, and walls newly painted in Mardi Gras purple, yellow, and green. "The stools aren’t done yet." The result of all this work (she renovates on Tuesday, the day they’re not open and she’s not working) is a cleaned-up Bayou Kitchen, one that has lost none of its down-home charm and has gained a sense of pride in its presentation, like the impeccably dressed street musicians in the French Quarter.

Along with the cleaning up, Sienna also works behind the counter every day. She knew that she didn’t have the experience to be a short-order cook, and that she had a good hash slinger in Katrina Millet. "I knew when I bought [the Bayou], I didn’t want to be over there, so where was I going to be?" Deciding to buck a longstanding trend in restaurant ownership, Sienna hops on chores most owners wouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole: dishes, prep-work, vegetable slicing, whatever it takes to help out those under fire during the busy days. And it gets insanely busy on the weekends. Katrina’s advice to new cooks at the Bayou?

"Don’t look behind you."

And while people will wait just a bit longer to be served on busy days, it’s only because they’re fully aware that the wait is well worth it. Muffins, biscuits, and cornbread are all made from scratch (you’d be shocked to know how many places still get the boxed muffin mix), and their near-legendary corned beef hash is started by boiling a whole beef brisket every other day. You can taste that they do nothing halfway, and that puts them in a league with some of the city’s most important eateries. For most of our conversation, Sienna talked about how much work went into what they serve, and how important it was to her that people leave happy.

"No one walks out of here without saying ‘awesome food!’ " she said proudly. I was no exception.

Breakfast at the Bayou involves torturous choices, but there are certain items not to miss. You must get the corned beef hash, which is the best I’ve ever had. You must get the BBQ Polish sausage. You must get grits with your meal. And if you’re wife Jackie, you must get the perfectly classic French Toast. In fact, shortly before sitting down to type this article, I finished off 90 percent of my usual: a Smokin’ Caterpillar (an omelet with Swiss cheese, grilled onions, and hash), grits, toast, and a side of BBQ polish.

And I’d do it all again tomorrow if I could.

Andy King can be reached at dinnerwithandy@yahoo.com