I HAD a hankering to roll some tumbling dice.

And it felt like a day to take a risk. Heck, what's the worst that can happen?

I checked out my credit rating with the bank that likes to say perhaps and figured I could unshackle the shekels.

With last week's paypoke smouldering in my pocket, I decided to take a punt on Louisiana's at the Riverboat Casino.

We were a long way from New Orleans but this was my turf to surf … and I was feeling lucky, punk.

The Moll didn't see it that way. "The only way you'll get a royal flush in here is in the bathroom," she said.

I dismissed the wisecrack from my wise gal to put the night in some kind of order.

I wasn't ready to hit the blackjack table, but I could already feel a frown crease my brow-beaten brow.

The Riverboat was more like the Marie Celeste. We were the only spooks on board.

To be fair, it was pretty early. A full moon was just coming up and The Moll was starting to howl."You might have brought me somewhere with people," was Toot's withering observation. But we were here to eat, not to bleat.

The pre-theatre job came in a budget-friendly £11 each for two courses. And I liked the cut of the Louisiana menu's jib.

September had brought a nip in the air… I had even dumped the Houndstooth jacket for the old Trenchcoat.

That chilly front was reason enough to open up with the Scotch broth and a Sauvignon Blanc kicker.

The soup did the trick in blowing heat back into my chilled veins. The vegetable flavours were full-on delicious and the soup itself just right.

I hate soup that does what it says on the tin. But this smacked of homemade and was a smooth starter for 10.

The crusty roll lived up to its name a little too well, if you ask me, but the Moll had taken her chance to be a prawn star, opting for the spicy tempura shrimp.

AND the kitchen guys hadn't scrimped on the shrimp. "This would have done me for the mains event," said Toots.

The prawns got a high-five verdict for being as sweet as a nut and the tempura was a crunchy delight.

Talking of nuts, the coconuts soon had her humming King Creole while the Louisiana plum salsa and rice guaranteed her a brilliant American trilogy.

My vino had gone down well, too well, with the Cajun chicken - a good move as it turned out.

The chicken was right at the top of the chickory chain and nippier than a factory full of sweeties.

But it's easy to smother your poultry in seasoning. Harder to make sure the food is given plenty of thought.

And on this front the Louisiana was delivering a bounty on the bayou.

The chicken was first class, tender white and melt-in-the-mouth magnificent. The Parmesan potatoes could easily have been a little cheesy but worked a treat.

The aubergine and courgette ratatouille tower was lacking a little on the flavour front, but that was a minor marks-off from the Moll. Most of the ticks were lined up like drakes on her dancecard.

I had decided to turn the night into a steak out by giving the medallions of beef a whirl.

So I was a mite peeved to discover one whole slice of fillet rather than thinly sliced cuts on top of each other.

And the texture of the meat was also a bit of a letdown. It was better than bland but some way off being blissful. But the satisfaction metre was still on the right side of good.

The cauliflower puree made up for the flavour that the beef lacked, and the bramble and red wine jus mixed things up nicely to provide a little French confection on the side.

The Moll was up for dessert but I put on my poker face and decided to quit while we were on a roll on the Riverboat.

Eyeing the tables below the food deck, I wasn't quite ready to cash in my chips.