Bourbon Street Seafood Kitchen Ih-10

The first time I pulled off I-10 near the Rim area and walked into Bourbon Street Seafood Kitchen Ih-10, I expected a decent Cajun spot. What I didn’t expect was how closely it mirrored the loud, buttery comfort of a real New Orleans seafood joint while still feeling very San Antonio. It sits at 22015 Interstate 10 #101, San Antonio, TX 78257, United States, which makes it an easy stop whether you’re coming from Boerne or downtown.

I’ve spent a few years reviewing Southern and Gulf Coast kitchens, and this place keeps popping up in local food groups for its crawfish boils and fried baskets. According to data from the National Fisheries Institute, Americans now eat about 19.7 pounds of seafood per person each year, up nearly a pound from a decade ago, and casual seafood kitchens like this are driving that growth. You see it here in real time: families sharing platters, regulars chatting with servers about which seasoning level hits hardest today.

The menu is built around boils, baskets, and classic New Orleans plates. One night I ordered what the server jokingly called the house favorite, a crawfish and shrimp boil tossed in garlic butter with a medium Cajun kick. They use a process similar to traditional Louisiana seafood houses: shellfish are steamed first, then soaked in spiced butter so the seasoning penetrates rather than just sitting on top. That soak step is something Chef Kevin Belton from PBS often highlights as key to bold Cajun flavor, and you can taste that technique working here.

If you’re not into peeling shrimp, the fried side of the menu is just as solid. Their catfish basket comes out with cornmeal crust that stays crunchy even after a few minutes at the table, which tells me they’re keeping oil temps around the ideal 350-375°F range, the same standard recommended by the Culinary Institute of America. I once watched the kitchen during a slow afternoon and saw them discard oil earlier than most diners would expect, a small detail that explains why the batter never tastes greasy.

Reviews online constantly mention the spice levels, so I ran a mini test with friends. We ordered mild, medium, and what they call the extra spicy version. Mild is friendly for kids, medium wakes you up without pain, and extra spicy is the one where conversation pauses while everyone reaches for sweet tea. It’s not about heat for shock value; it’s layered with paprika, cayenne, black pepper, and bay leaf, which food science research from LSU shows creates longer-lasting flavor perception compared to single-chili heat.

This location isn’t pretending to be fine dining, and that’s part of the charm. Tables are lined with paper, bibs are encouraged, and the playlist swings from bounce music to classic zydeco. Still, the staff runs a tight ship. On my third visit, I noticed a trainee learning how to portion crab clusters using a digital scale, which keeps servings consistent and helps the kitchen control waste-something the Restaurant Industry Operations Report flags as critical with today’s seafood prices.

I won’t pretend everything is perfect. During peak weekend hours, wait times can stretch, and parking around the strip can feel chaotic. That said, the front desk now texts when your table is ready, which cuts down on standing around. It’s also worth noting that the menu leans heavy on shellfish, so vegetarians don’t have many main options beyond sides.

What keeps me recommending this spot to friends is how it bridges cultures: New Orleans recipes, Texas-sized portions, and a San Antonio crowd that treats it like a neighborhood hangout. Whether you’re scanning the menu for snow crab legs, checking reviews before date night, or hunting for one of the better Cajun-style locations along I-10, this kitchen earns its reputation the old-fashioned way-by sending people home messy, full, and already planning their next visit.