RESTAURANT REVIEW:

Someday, I will listen to my waiter or waitress; but this wasn’t the day, and I paid for it.

They know more than anyone in the place. So when my waitress at Jack Shrimp said the Shrimp Jardin was so-so, I should have heeded her advice and got the pasta dish she was recommending.

Oh no, mister, fancy-pants restaurant critic saw gulf shrimp, garlic and bacon and thought, “She has no clue — this sounds really good.”

Here’s a news flash: She was right, and I was wrong.

It wasn’t that the dish was bad; it wasn’t. But compared to the signature shrimp and jambalaya, it isn’t nearly as good.

The half order came to the table with the other two, and almost immediately I could tell it was going to finish third.

There are five pieces of shrimp and what seem like 100 bits of fire-roasted tomatoes, so right there I was peeved at the disproportionate ratio.

It’s accompanied by spinach leaves that wilted in the white wine balsamic sauce that made everything float.

The bacon, on which my friend and I had our hearts set, is nearly nonexistent. There are bits of it that if you comb through the sauce you could find, but it’s not the dominant ingredient we thought it would be.

While that was disappointing, the other two dishes are incredible.

I had jambalaya in New Orleans at a place called the Gumbo Pot, and it was the best I’d ever tasted.

One of the reasons was because I was on a trip across the country and running out of money, and after two weeks of Wheat Thins and Diet Coke, I decided to treat myself.

I have been back to the Big Easy and sampled the meal at other restaurants and usually never been disappointed.

Jambalaya is absolutely one of the perfect meals, and Jack Shrimp’s is equal to any I had in Louisiana.

The spices are so flavorful it grabs your tongue the minute you take your first bite. There is an abundance of andouille sausage with long strands of white onion and bite-sized pieces of green bell pepper.

What makes it so unique is the herbed rice and chicken breast. Some places use dark and white chicken meat and are not too concerned with the quality of either.

Jack Shrimp uses only white meat and only the breast. It is so tender I found myself seeking it out and isolating it, so that I could enjoy it unencumbered.

The rice is the dish’s backbone. Bad rice means bad jambalaya. Plain rice means plain jambalaya.

There is no chance of that happening here. Their secret recipe of herbs is tantalizing.

Vermicelli is offered as a substitute for the rice but that would be a mistake. Stick with the rice, you won’t be sorry.

The restaurant’s signature dish is unbelievable as well. The Gulf shrimp, with the shell still on it, soaks in a sauce that is both zesty and spicy.

This recipe is a state secret so you won’t get any information about it, though the buttery sauce seems to have garlic and a little cayenne pepper in it.

All I know is we ordered another basket of bread to soak up the sauce after the shrimp was gone. My friend looked at me after what seemed like his 42nd piece of bread and exclaimed shock at being full.

Come to Jack Shrimp during the week, as the small restaurant is packed on the weekends. I was there at 7 p.m. on a Tuesday, and there were only two tables open.

And by all means, listen to the waitress when she tells you what you should order.

JOHN REGER is the Pilot’s restaurant critic. His reviews run Thursdays.