I sit at my office computer writing this column hours after a foodie-altering experience that included making amends with undoubtedly one of the top five chefs in Lake Charles.

After years of ignoring and quietly developing a quasi-disdain for each other — based, at the end of the day, on nothing more than ego — Mazen Hijazi, the owner of Mazen’s Restaurant, and myself have made amends.

A small cadre of mutual friends have spent over a year cajoling Mazen and myself to sit, break bread and have an honest conversation about anything.

Monday night, after arrangements had been made for us to meet at Mazen’s, at 217 W. College St., Mazen and myself indulged ourselves in food and personal experiences and most important, found ourselves realizing that our egos could exist at the same table.

It helped that the man shocked my sense of taste with an herb-crusted Ahi tuna appetizer that was perfectly cooked and elicited a visceral response by me that made Mazen smile like “Austin Powers” bad guy Dr. Evil moments after devising a scheme to take over the world.

“Oh my goodness. Mazen, this is wonderful. This takes me back to sitting in the Papania’s kitchen smelling all the herbs my dad and other cooks used to cook,” I said.

“That’s why I love cooking. Getting that response, Eric,” he said.

Several dishes were sent to the table — a greatest hits list of Mazen’s recipes: fried asparagus; crab cake; shrimp in garlic sauce; fried oysters; fish Aladdin (toasted red fish covered with jumbo lump crabmeat and placed over a lemon, butter and saffron sauce); and the night’s special  — a toasted speckled trout delicately placed over a chipotle pepper sauce and topped with mussels, crab claws, shrimp and crawfish.

I have eaten at Mazen’s only a handful of times since the restaurant opened and was never convinced that his take on Louisiana cuisine was that special.

Maybe on those days my taste buds were off leading me to develop a passive-aggressive attitude toward the place.

Remember, we never really got to know each other either. If you read this column, you know I’m a stickler for relationships. Liking the cook is just as important as enjoying the food.

Mazen and I talked for several hours. There were some occasional  uncomfortable glances, the kind created when neither party knows if they can trust the other.

But we shook hands before I left and parted ways knowing a friendship — with food as the linchpin — could be waiting in the future.

Next week, I’ll write about Mazen the man, his kitchen philosophy and what he means to the local culinary scene.

Eric Cormier writes about food on Wednesdays. Contact him at

ecormier@americanpress.com

or 494-4090