When Dada Ngo opened a Cajun-style crayfish restaurant in the heart of Orange County's Vietnamese enclave, she worried whether it would survive. Crayfish was popular fare along the Gulf Coast where she had lived, but the red-clawed crustaceans were alien to most West Coast Vietnamese diners.
Some thought crayfish were fish. They were intimidated when what looked like tiny lobsters were brought from the kitchen in steaming plastic bags and dumped on the table. Diners did not know how to rip off the little heads or crack the hard shells with their fingers and they complained that it took too much work for no more than a pinkie-toe-sized morsel of meat.
But the crustaceans quickly became a craze in Little Saigon, home to the largest population of Vietnamese in the country. In a place better known for its hundreds of pho noodle restaurants and banh mi sandwich shops, Cajun seafood has found a niche hundreds of miles from the bayou.
Now, the Boiling Crab has lines out the door nearly every night. And the crayfish craze has spawned nearly a dozen imitators, mostly within a four-square-mile radius -- the Rockin' Crayfish, the Red Claw and the Cajun Corner. Vietnamese entrepreneurs have even exported the idea to enclaves in San Jose, Houston, San Francisco and San Diego.
It's the classic story of conducting business in Little Saigon, an insular enclave glutted with thousands of similar shops and restaurants catering to Vietnamese tastes, where success is readily duplicated.
Restaurants and businesses fiercely compete for the same Vietnamese customers, leaving the market saturated and prices stagnating. There are dozens of pho noodle restaurants with virtually the same menu. Lee's Sandwiches, a popular Vietnamese chain, has copycats in the area. Pinkberry yogurt knockoffs have come to town.
Crayfish has become the latest fad. "It's great that it's catching on, and it's flattering that people have copied," said Ngo, 33. "But on the other hand, it's kind of a bummer. Grabbing on to someone's concept makes it redundant and reduces quality and the essence of it. You can end up killing each other."
When Ngo and her now-husband, Sinh Nguyen, 37, lived in Arlington, Texas, they loved boiling crayfish for casual cookouts that were popular near the bayou and Gulf Coast cities. Ngo's friends and family could easily consume 30 pounds in a single afternoon.
