If you know Jesse Gibson through his pop-ups, food truck, and now excellent restaurant in North Richland Hills, you know food, for him, isn’t just food. It’s a reflection of where he comes from. 

“I’m from Houma, Louisiana, specifically Dulac,” Gibson says. “It’s a small fishing community near a place called Cocodrie, and that’s where people from town have their vacation homes. They go fishing, clean their fish, cook for their friends, and throw big parties. It’s a whole culture built around food and gathering.” 

That sense of community runs through the veins of Cocodrie’s Bayou Kitchen, which Gibson opened this fall after years of hustling in Fort Worth, running catering events, pop-ups, and a food truck under his brand, The Wild Cajun. 

“I was a little nervous about the concept,” he admits. “I’ve always been in the food industry, but not like this, not running my own restaurant. But I just came out of a meeting with my staff, and I told them: ‘This is a big ball of Play-Doh. Tell me what you think will make this better. We want to be around for a long time. I don’t want this to be a sizzle in the pan.’” 

Cocodrie’s shares a building with Sparks, a longtime local sports bar that Gibson’s silent partner owns. The combination, he says, has breathed new life into the space. 

“We’re trying to make it the new go-to spot on Rufe Snow,” Gibson says. “North Richland Hills doesn’t really have anything like this, and honestly, there’s nothing like this in North Texas. When you come in, there’s no Texas memorabilia. You’re back in South Louisiana. When you walk out, you can be back in Texas all you want.” 

The menu is both familiar and inventive. Gibson serves staples like po’boys, étouffée, boudin, and gumbo — the latter made the traditional way, slowly, with roux cooked in-house. But he’s also put a playful spin on Cajun classics. 

“People expect the usual stuff, and I can give them that all day long,” he says. “But I got a little creative with the names and flavors. Like our Swamp Poppers. They’re frog legs tossed in a housemade buffalo sauce we make with Louisiana Hot Sauce. People always say frog legs taste like chicken, so we leaned into that.” 

Another creative dish is the Rougarou Wrap, a Cajun-inspired burrito stuffed with shrimp or chicken tenders, lettuce, tomato, jalapeno, and housemade ranch. “The rougarou is a Cajun folk creature, like a werewolf,” Gibson says. “The wrap’s so good it’s kind of sinful, like the rougarou’s gonna come get you for eating it.” 

Then there’s The Kitchen Sink, a crowd favorite that incorporates many of Gibson’s signature items. 

“It gives you a little bit of everything,” he says. “Jambalaya with a blackened redfish fillet, étouffée on top, four fried shrimp, and a boudin ball. It’s a great portion and under $30; it’s a great value.” 

The gumbo, a point of pride for Gibson, is made from scratch daily. 

“We don’t cut corners,” he says. “There are ways you can make a gumbo faster, but that’s how you end up with something lacking. We make our roux in-house, use it across all our gumbos, and cook them in small batches — 5 to 10 gallons a day of each kind.” 

Even the ingredients are a direct line to his home state. 

“Everything we get, aside from our vegetables, is imported from Louisiana,” he says. “Even if it’s made somewhere else, it’s sold by a Louisiana company. We use Gambino’s bread, Blue Plate mayo, and sausage from a New Orleans company. It’s important to me that what people taste here really comes from there.” 

Gibson and his family have been a part of the food and restaurant industry for years. After moving to Texas in 2017, he followed in the footsteps of his family, many of whom work in the fish and shrimp distribution industry, and began selling shrimp out of a friend’s garage — shrimp he bought from his father’s dock in Houma.  

“I carried around a 5-pound block of shrimp until I found someone to buy it,” he says, laughing. “That was at Burgundy Local on West Seventh. The owner told me to break it down into 1-pound packages and he’d sell it. From there, I started selling on Facebook, then farmers markets, then crawfish boils during the season. That’s what really got me going.” 

Cocodrie’s Bayou Kitchen, Gibson says, is the culmination of years of hustling — and a deep homage to his home state and cuisine.  

“I built this whole place while I was homesick,” he says. “I just want to bring people home with me. When I walk in there, I don’t feel like I’m at work. I feel like I’m home. I’m not going out of my way to make it special, but somehow, it is.”   

Cocodrie’s Bayou Kitchen, 5209 Rufe Snow Drive., North Richland Hills, facebook.com/cocodries