But the tide has changed a bit in recent years. In the currency of comedy, she's well aware of the conversion rate of exchange.
Indeed, she's exchanged Christian roots for rooting for Judaism.
"I always felt I wanted to be a good Jewish mother," she quips of her post-marital mitzvah, exchanging vows and "Ch"s as she converted to Judaism.
"My 'oy veyz!' and 'ch' are really getting better," she claims.
Good bet that they're funnier, too. Landry alights in Philadelphia for a series of performances through this Saturday night at Helium, in Center City, where the Comedy Central star will dip into her love of Doritos all the while drawing on that Southern drawl that comes with being raised in New Orleans.
But what's new are the Jewish japes. Has she become funnier since converting, using her 5,000 years of acquired Jewish comedy to her advantage?
Absolutely, says the fashionable performer, also a cop-tivating member of US mag's "Fashion Police," in which she addresses the style of the rich and famous and sartorially famish.
Which is really a joke, she says, "if you saw the way I dress most of the time."
Talk Is Cheap
But that's not what audiences are looking at; they're looking for a reason to laugh, and this Cajun-kosher quipster provides just that: A feast of blackened redfish/white-hot redneck humor.
But … is this any way for a Jewish woman to talk? "I'm a Southern girl who can chug a beer and light a cigarette while I parallel park my daddy's stick- shift pickup truck and belt out that trailer park anthem, 'Sweet Home Alabama.' The only way I can even stomach a sweet tea is with a shot of bourbon to cut the sugar," she blogs away in trailer-trash talk.
Uh … Sugar … are ya still like that?
"Well," she reconsiders, "I'm now chugging Manischewitz instead of beer and those Doritos I love? Never on Shabbat!"
But then, never underestimate her: She can still parallel park if not parallel pork, so don't mess with this Tex-Mex mama.
But there are differences, she avows.
Some of the benefits of being Jewish? Landry landing herself on the olim shout-out list at Shabbat services. But that's not all: "Now I can join a Jewish country club and not feel left out of the equation."
Just add her to the list of new Jewish moms who conjure up a cracker barrel full of quirky names for their kids.
"I have a 9-month old named Ari Cajun — he's one feisty Jew!" says the mother of all such accolades.