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Education Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous Is College Necessary?

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Finance Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset

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Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters

‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Reviews Lifestyle The New Sober Boom Getting Hooked on Quitting Education Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous Is College Necessary? Finance Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset Crypto Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Lifestyle The New Sober Boom Getting Hooked on Quitting

Getting Hooked on Quitting

Education Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous Is College Necessary?

Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous

Is College Necessary?

Finance Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset

Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear

Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset

Crypto Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters

‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Creamy, Cajun-spiced stovetop pasta

Bloom the spices and finish with acid for a smoky chicken pasta that feels rich, but never heavy

Published April 7, 2026 10:30AM (EDT)

A version of this essay first appeared in The Bite, Salon's food newsletter. Sign up for early access to articles like this, plus recipes, food-related pop culture recommendations and conversations about what we're eating, how and why.

I have a confession, and it is not particularly chic: Twice a year, like clockwork, I crave Cajun chicken pasta.

Not the kind you get at a tiny restaurant with exposed brick and a chef who forages. I mean the laminated-menu version. The one that appears alongside onion petals, Monte Cristos and a molten chocolate lava cake that arrives under a small weather system of powdered sugar. It is a dish born of abundance and branding — creamy, bronzed, a little breathless.

If it’s been a while since you’ve encountered one in the wild (say, beneath the animatronic canopy of a Rainforest Cafe) allow me to refresh your memory. Cajun chicken pasta is essentially Alfredo in a leather jacket: fettuccine or penne, blackened or “blackened” chicken, a confetti of peppers and scallions, and a liberal snowfall of Cajun seasoning. It promises swagger. It delivers dairy.

And when it’s good? It is deeply, almost embarrassingly satisfying. Creamy in a way that feels intentional, smoky in a way that feels tantalizing, a little spicy, a little indulgent — the culinary equivalent of buying a silk robe you absolutely do not need and swanning around in it on a Tuesday night.

When it’s bad, however, it’s tragicomic. I once ordered it at a chain restaurant that shall........

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