'Taint nothing fancy about the cafeteria-style serving line, nothing surprising about the coon-ass doodads hanging on the wall, and nothing progressive about green beans swimming in cream of mushroom soup or fried catfish and stuffed pork chops. But then it's lunchtime, and you're not looking for fancy waiters and avant-garde decor and fusion cuisine. You're looking for a big hot lunch, properly spiced, with a chunk of corn bread -- jalape?o or plain -- to sop the juices. The Zydeco delivers on those fronts, tosses in a low-turnover staff that remembers your favorites, and a seemingly endless soundtrack of tape-looped funk to aid in digestion. Dig it.