In the 1990s, I was at a statewide board meeting for the Mississippi Restaurant Association, and during a discussion about tourism, I mentioned the Hattiesburg Zoo in my hometown. That got some laughs. “Hattiesburg has a zoo?” they scoffed. Some of them chuckled like I’d just suggested we start promoting Hattiesburg as the next great beach destination.
But here’s the thing—I stood up and told them what they were dealing with was contempt prior to investigation. They had no idea what kind of small, world-class zoo a modest town like Hattiesburg had.
I’ve seen that kind of reaction before—people dismissing something just because they assume it couldn’t possibly be great in a place like this. They think world-class experiences only happen in New York or Miami. But sometimes, you find something unexpected, exotic, and completely out of the ordinary right in your own backyard.
Like Little Creek Landing.
There’s something about destination restaurants that connects with me on a deeper level. At some point, everyone gets a little tired of the same old choices in town. When that happens, you either fire up the grill in the backyard, or hop in the car and go find something different. Sometimes, that means a drive down to the Mississippi Coast. Other times, it’s a long haul to New Orleans for a meal that makes the drive worthwhile. But every now and then, a place pops up out in the remote countryside that is worth the trip.
I used to own one of those spots. 589 Family Fish House was about 20 miles outside of town, and it was one of the most fun concepts I ever created. People would load up the family and make the drive for a fried catfish meal that felt like an event. I had plans to expand it into multiple locations, but 9/11 happened, and like a lot of folks, I hit pause, thinking I’d reopen once things settled down. Never got around to it. Maybe one day. But even if I do, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to compete with a place that serves steak and happens to have a white bison, a fennec fox, and a bird that dances to Bruno Mars.
That’s what I found at Little Creek Landing.
I’d heard about this place near our lake house, but I didn’t realize exactly what I was getting into. Somebody told me it had a safari component. That sounded like marketing fluff, a roadside attraction with a couple of goats and a peacock out back. I underestimated the safari component.
My wife and I pulled up on a Friday night, deep in the middle of nowhere, expecting a quiet meal. The parking lot was packed. Not long after we made it to the front door, we were greeted by zebras, kangaroos, ostriches, and camels. Not pictures of them. Actual, live, breathing animals standing around as if they, too, were there for dinner.
We walked in, and it only got wilder. Keel-billed toucans, a wallaby, antelopes, swans, and even a white emu. And that was before we even sat down. The owner, Chris Thurman, has been an animal lover since he was a kid, spending time with his grandmother, who had all sorts of exotic creatures. It must’ve stuck because today, he runs one of the most unusual restaurants I’ve ever been to.
My wife, who loves animals more than most, was in heaven. I barely got her to sit down and eat because she was too busy holding a fennec fox. Later, when a parrot started dancing to Bruno Mars— and trust me, I’ve been sober since 1983, so it wasn’t a flashback— I just sat there wondering if I’d somehow wandered into an alternate reality.
Once we finally settled in, we got to the food.
The menu at Little Creek Landing is exactly what you’d expect at a place like this— fried cheese sticks, jalapeno poppers, burgers, pasta, steaks. Simple, straightforward, and satisfying. My wife had a solid burger, and I went with the ribeye. Had a good grilled and smoked flavor and came with a baked sweet potato, which I appreciated.
But no one goes there just for the food. It’s good, but that’s not why you’re making the drive. You go there because it’s the only place in Mississippi where you can eat a ribeye, watch a crowned crane strut around like it owns the place, and then wander outside to feed a blond water buffalo.
The gift shop alone is worth a visit. Chris’ mother seems to run just about everything, from the restaurant to the retail, and that gift shop is first-rate looks like something out of Disney’s Animal Kingdom. She also makes the desserts, and the peach cobbler was a solid finish to the meal—warm, comforting, and just the right amount of sweet. You could tell it was made with care, and that always makes a difference.
When you happen upon a place like Little Creek Landing, you can’t go just go once. We went back the next night. The entire physical plant is well built, clean, organized, and expertly maintained. It’s definitely a family place, but our kids are grown, we were flying solo and had a blast.
Next trip, I’m going all in. They offer daytime excursions where guests can ride through the property, feed the animals, and take in the full safari experience. Those run on the hour starting at noon, with the last one leaving at 4 PM. My future plan is to catch the 4 PM tour, meet a few more zebras and camels, maybe shake hands with a kangaroo, and then sit down for dinner at 5.
I’ve been to some interesting restaurants in my 63 years. I’ve seen destination spots that were over-the-top in all the right ways. But I’ve never had a meal in a place where I could pet a lemur, watch a bird dance, and look out the window to see a white bison standing next to a water buffalo.
I thought I’d seen it all. Turns out, I hadn’t. Not even close.
If you’re looking for a dining experience that’s truly exotic and out of the ordinary, Little Creek Landing is worth the drive.
Onward.
Roasted New Potatoes
This is a supper staple at the St. John house. On steak night I cook these potatoes.
3 lbs. Red B-size potatoes, quartered
½ cup Extra virgin olive oil
1 TB Kosher salt
½ tsp Fresh ground black pepper
1 tsp Fresh rosemary, finely chopped
Preheat oven to 350.
Combine all ingredients in a large mixing bowl. Make sure all the potatoes are coated evenly. Transfer to a baking sheet and place in the oven for 1 hour, carefully turning the potatoes with a spatula every 15 minutes.
Serve immediately.
(Robert St. John is a chef, restauranteur and published cookbook author who lives in Hattiesburg, Miss.)
