Philadelphia Weekly

The first meal John Mims ate in Philadelphia was in 1992 at Odeon, a nouvelle French restaurant with a sweeping butterfly staircase you could see Scarlett O'Hara--or at least Midge Rendell--marching down. Sixteen years later, Mims owns the place. Cue "Ironic."

Mims, who established his rep in the suburbs with the nomadic Carmine's Creole Caf�, is taking the urban leap at 114 S. 12th with Les Bons Temps, an abridged version of the happy-go-lucky New Orleans maxim laissez les bons temps rouler, that is--let the good times roll.

Odeon, Bistro Bix, London, Lilies on 12th and TPDS all called this address home at one time, making it especially remarkable that so much of the original architecture is intact, from the neoclassical fanlights to the soaring columns. Mims and business partner Howard Taylor have changed little. Some fresh paint. A new kitchen. Fleur-de-lis everywhere. Other than that, the building's bones remain.

The staircase is still there, linking the first floor dining room and mezzanine in a cascade of mahogany treads and thick white balusters. It gives Les Bons Temps' sunny staff a Stairmaster workout, as they ascend bearing buttermilk-dressed wedge salads and couscous-crusted scallops with tart black currant-balsamic jam. Up and down, up and down they go, developing calf muscles that would make Johnny Drama jealous.

When it's slow the servers are fine-dining attentive--crumbing the table, freshening silver, bringing a warm damp napkin with lemon alongside a heaping half-pound bowl of blue crab claws in a spicy slurry of white wine, crab stock and parmesan--but the constant vertical hustle causes lags when the restaurant gets really busy.

Thing is, Les Bon Temps is getting really busy. With close to two months under their belt, they've got a solid following, from the youngest Midtown Villager swilling Bluecoat-and-tonics at the mirror-backed mahogany bar to an elderly spinster who may well have been alive for the Louisiana Purchase.

With 23-year-old chef de cuisine Brett Naylor, Mims is lightening the Cajun and Creole recipes of his youth in the shrimping town of Jean Lafitte, La. The result: food that possesses all the big, bold, in-your-face flavor you expect from New Orleans, with much less of the cuisine's does-puking-after-eating-once-make-you-bulimic conflict.

Paired with stock-simmered shrimp, the grits, cooked in cream and finished with smoked gouda, hit stride with Marigold Kitchen's. Fried crawfish tails top the grits, and are the base for a haunting etouffee that gets its nutty background from mahogany roux, a Creole thickener made with flour and oil instead of the typical flour and butter. Pernod gives a lingering anise undertow to another bayou classic, court-bouillion, a satisfying tomato-y shrimp, crab and swordfish stew that goes by its phonetic, bastardized French pseudonym coo-be-yon on the Les Bons Temps menu.

Even frittered goodies like the airy Counselor's eggplant beignets splashed with Tabasco and showered in powdered sugar--they taste better than they sound--are remarkably light. The fried panko shells of the jambalaya croquettes hide steaming centers of duck confit, Andouille sausage and rice. Dipped in tasso ham cream and sweet, spicy Creole tomato sauce, these addictive rice balls are like Louisiana's version of Italian arancini.

When exceptions arise, heavy sauces are to blame. Juicy and tender as a rib-eye steak, the espresso-and-Cajun spiced-rubbed pork loin would be flawless if not for the intensely rich veal demi-glace that ends each bite with an unpleasant thud. Pooling around the shrimp and grits, a clunker of a viscous rosemary-butter sauce congeals on my fork. Fortunately, it's easy to bypass and doesn't ruin the grits.

There's also plenty of richness in the desserts, as there should be. Pastry chef Jessica Fastow is barely old enough to legally drink, but can turn out a mean banana cream pie and sticky bun bread pudding that announces itself with a cinnamony, brown sugary perfume long before it arrives at the table. The caramelly pecan pie and the coffee would both be better served hot.

After dinner, head upstairs to the Mardi Gras Room for drinking and dancing. If plans for a (groan) bottle service lounge on the third floor go through, there'll be more than just good times rolling down that beautiful staircase.