MADAWASKA, Maine – Ron Dalgo has been cooking Cajun meals nearly all of his life, but only recently decided to open a food stand. Since then, northern Mainers have been lining up to try his authentic Southern cuisine.
Dalgo moved to Maine from Louisiana about 20 years ago. He opened Cou-yon’s Cajun Shack in Grand Isle in 2024, but had to close last August after a back injury.
Now, he has reopened the eatery in Madawaska, a larger town, and business is booming.
He runs the business with the help of his partner Stacy Roy and his daughter Olivia Dalgo and a few employees.
The support from other food trucks has been incredible, he said. Just a few nights ago, a piece broke off his food truck. Dan Dionne, who owns the Maine-ly Mean ‘N Potatoes food truck business, fixed it for him.
“He’s out there fixing something so I can open in the morning, and he did a great job. It was perfect,” Dalgo said.
That same day, he accidentally brought the wrong card into Tractor Supply and couldn’t pay. But the owner of Ruby Red’s food truck, Ruby Picard, was in the store and offered to pay. Dalgo was amazed that two other food trucks pitched in to help.
Madawaska residents have also responded incredibly, he said. Most people haven’t had Cajun cuisine, other than from boxed dinners or recipes seen online. To have the foot “just like you would get it on the bayou” is unique.
And while both Madawaska and Louisiana are two regions with a rich Acadian heritage, Cajun food is much different from the traditional foods in Maine’s St. John Valley region.
Both cultures share French language. There are some minor differences in the pronunciation and wording and big differences in the food, but the ethos behind meals in both cultures is the same, Dalgo said.
“I think we had the same idea,” he said. “The Cajuns had big families, and they needed food to last and feed a community at a time. So, you guys do chicken stew up here, and we do gumbo. They don’t taste anything alike, but it’s the same principle. It was a pot of chicken that could feed 20 people.”
The name Cou-yon translates to “fool.” As Dalgo puts it, a “Cou-yon” would be like someone turning a doorknob the wrong way, or a cousin who tries to hit a bee’s nest with a stick. It’s meant more in an endearing way than as an insult.
“All my close friends and all my family never asked ‘Why cou-yon?’ They knew it fit me,” he said with a laugh.
Dalgo, 50, started cooking Cajun food when he was just 10 years old.
“When I was 12 or 13, I could go into the kitchen and make a jambalaya without my mom even walking in there,” he said. “My dad taught me and my two brothers. He said, ‘You can put anything in the pot that you want. I don’t care how you do it, but you’ve gotta eat it.’ So that taught us a lesson early on.”
One of the highest selling items are the boudin balls, which are fried, breaded balls full of rice, pork butt, and Cajun spices. He sells at least 100 a day. Overall, one of the stand’s biggest draws is that everything is made authentically from scratch.
“It’s just like you would get on the bayou,” he said. “I do it better than some and worse than others. We’re all here to just share a little bit of my culture.”
