You Are My Sunshine

DONATE TO GULF AID.

Last Sunday, we went to the Gulf Aid benefit concert with some dear friends. It was an enchanting, oh-so-New-Orleans kind of event: walking through Mardi Gras World, where hundreds of floats and float adornments are created and stored; sampling soundly delicious seafood creations by some of the city's best restaurants and caterers; watching the tugboats and barges troll along the Mississippi; listening to heartfelt, intensely dedicated performers like Tab Benoit call us to attention, lest we forget whom we need to help; chanting "Who Dat?!" spontaneously, like a family, because we are a family.

Singing "You Are My Sunshine"--our state song--a capella, at the tops of our voices.  You hardly ever hear the final Louisiana-specific verses, and we didn't sing them either, but here they are, in all their sweetness:

Louisiana, my Louisiana

the place where I was born.

White fields of cotton.

Green fields of clover.

The best fishing

and long tall corn.

Crawfish gumbo and jambalaya,

the biggest shrimp and sugar cane.

The finest oysters

and sweet strawberries

from Toledo Bend 

to New Orleans.

I think you hear people sing more about food than about love here, but that's probably because food IS love here, and music is the way we keep our feet as happy as our mouths.  And as you can tell from these lyrics, seafood and fishing are woven tightly into that net.

Welcome to Mardi Gras World!

Ya-Ka-Mein and the story behind it.

Allen Toussaint

Crab and shrimp dressing.

Chef Tenney Flynn of G.W. Fin's and his delicious fish tacos.

Dr. John with the Voice of the Wetlands

Big Chief Monk Boudreaux

Alligator sausage sliders from Phil's Grill

Tab Benoit and Cyril Neville with Voice of the Wetlands

Ani DiFranco; and below, singing with the Preservation Hall Jazz Band

Cupcakes from Kupcake Factory

Shrimp & grits and John Folse's crawfish bisque

Bourbon House's blackened catfish with creamy maque choux, and Lenny Kravitz

You Are My Sunshine

for love of shrimp

The oil spill outlook has got us all worried these days.  How will our fishing families adapt?  How will the restaurant industry fare?  It's still too soon to tell.  But plenty of fresh, local seafood is still available right now, at the west bank wharf, in supermarkets, and at farmer's markets.  Paul went last Saturday to the Crescent City Farmer's Market downtown and bought several pounds of gorgeous, perfect shrimp from Clara Gerica of Gerica Seafood.  Her husband, Pete, shrimps in Lake Pontchartrain and sends his evening catch to market with Clara, who says their lake shrimping is unaffected at this point.  So to celebrate that fact, and to celebrate shrimp in general, I concocted a tapas-style menu of two iconic recipes (barbecued shrimp; shrimp and grits (pictured at left)) and one newcomer (the shrimp taco).

I strongly believe that tapas is a style of eating befitting to New Orleans cuisine.  It's basically bar food, having originated in Spanish bars where people used small plates of food to keep flies off of their sherry glasses, and let's face it, we have a few bars here.  Also, there are so many great New Orleans and Louisiana flavors to taste--hundreds of them!--and smaller, tapas-sized servings provide an easier-on-the-stomach way to sample more of those flavors.  And what may be most important is the fact that some of our most delectable dishes are extremely rich with butter, cream, or both, and are best enjoyed in smaller portions.  Case in point:  New Orleans-style barbecued shrimp.

If you've never heard of New Orleans barbecued shrimp, let me explain:  it's not barbecued.  At least, not in the sense that most Americans will consider it barbecued--it's not cooked outside, it's not covered in a tomato-based sauce, it's not skewered.  It is bathed in a spicy, rich sauce, though--of BUTTER.  It's all about the butter, here.  I've read countless recipes for New Orleans barbecued shrimp, and they all have these common ingredients:  head-on shrimp, butter, Worcestershire sauce, rosemary, butter, garlic, black pepper, and butter.  Unless you've just received an "All clear, go ahead and live life with abandon until you're 100" blessing from your G.P., it's probably best to enjoy New Orleans barbecued shrimp in small quantities (hence the tapas).  But by all means, enjoy it.  It's one of those wonderful things in life--you just haven't lived until you've tasted shrimp baked in a butter bath.  And eat at least one piece of French bread dipped in the sauce.  It's just heaven.

I like a strong lemon flavor in the butter sauce, and a little cayenne (the photo shows the shrimp, covered with sauce, about to go in the oven).  Here's how I've been making it:

New Orleans-Style Barbecued Shrimp

• 1 1/2 pounds head-on, shell-on fresh jumbo shrimp
• 2 sticks unsalted butter (for reals!)
• 1 lemon
• 1 to 2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
• 2 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary (really mince it, so it's like a powder)
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 to 1 1/2 teaspoons cayenne pepper, to taste
• salt and black pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 350.
2. In a small saucepan, melt butter over medium-low heat.  
3. Grate the zest (the outer, yellow peel) off the lemon using the smallest holes of a cheese grater.  Cut the lemon in half and thinly slice one of the halves (no need to remove the seeds).
4. Add the lemon zest from the entire lemon, the sliced lemon, Worcestershire, rosemary, garlic, and cayenne pepper to the melted butter.  Add salt and black pepper to taste (I use about 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon black pepper--some recipes make it even more peppery).  Reduce the heat to low and let everything cook together for about 5 minutes.
5. Rinse, but don't peel, the shrimp.  Place them in a baking dish, in a single layer if possible.  
6. Pour the butter sauce over the shrimp, stirring a little so it has a chance to seep inside some of the shrimp shells.  Most of the butter will go to the bottom of the dish, which is fine.
7. Bake for 10 minutes, then turn shrimp over and bake until done.  Depending on the size of the shrimp, this could take 5 to 15 more minutes.  They're done when the head is opaque inside its shell--the head is the densest part of the shrimp and takes the longest to cook.  Keep checking them.
8. Let cool for at least 10 minutes before attempting to peel and eat them.  Pass some French bread!

Servings: The shrimp we bought were very large, so 1 1/2 pounds gave us about 12 shrimp.  For tapas, this recipe serves 6 people--2 shrimp per person, plus one or two pieces of bread to dip in the sauce--oh, my.  

Notes: I always keep the pan in the kitchen and just have people come in there to eat it, standing up, because everyone wants to wash their hands right away.  It is super messy.  To peel, pull the head off with a little twist--if it doesn't come off easily, the shrimp may be underdone.  Then open the shrimp up along the belly side, where the legs are.  Pull all the meat out of the tail shell, and drag your naked shrimp through the butter sauce.  I also like to eat the baked lemon slices.

* * *

Shrimp and grits is one of my favorite dishes to make...and I love to use bacon in it.  Bacon and shrimp have a beautiful relationship.  Bacon's all crispy, smoky, and high in fat, and shrimp's all light, springy, and virtually fat-free.  We all know that opposites attract, and when bacon and shrimp meet, the romance is so high that they elevate each other's star qualities like the perfect couple.  I like to cook the bacon first, then use the drippings to saute the vegetables.  I get a darker sauce from the browned bacon that sticks to the bottom of the pan, and it's rich with that smoky flavor and a big dose of herbs.  

I don't cook grits with milk or cream--I just don't see the need.  Chicken broth gives them a ton of flavor, and after a little butter and cheese are added, they really do taste like they've been cooked with cream.  For tapas, I thought it would be nice to have the grits in a compact, square shape.  I poured the finished grits into a wax paper-lined baking pan and chilled them in the fridge for several hours.  When they were cold and firm, I took them out and cut them into 3" squares, kind of like brownies.  I tried frying some of them in bacon drippings--bad idea!  Cold grit cakes added to a hot pan are kind of like little grit volcanoes waiting to spit grits everywhere, and the bacon drippings added a LOT of fuel to that fire.  Plus, I don't think the cakes knew what to do with that extra fat--maybe they should be breaded first?  If anyone knows, please tell me.  I ended up browning the cakes in a dry nonstick skillet, and although there were still a few grits popping out, they turned out pretty well.  You can certainly just serve the grits soft and free-form, though, which is what I usually do.

Shrimp and Spicy Cheese Grits

For the grits:

• 4 cups chicken broth or stock
• 1 cup stone-ground grits (I like to use these more rustic, yellow grits, but you can use regular grits and just cook them for a shorter amount of time)
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 1 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 Tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese with jalapeno peppers
• few shakes Tabasco sauce

1. In a medium or large saucepan, bring chicken broth to a boil.
2. Stir in grits.  Cook and stir for a few minutes, then reduce heat to low, cover, and cook slowly for a total of about 30 minutes.  Check and stir every 5 minutes or so to ensure that they're not sticking to the bottom of the pan.
3. When the grits are getting creamier and softer (taste a little bit), add the butter, salt, and pepper.  Turn off the heat and add the cheese.  Taste for seasoning, adding Tabasco and more salt or pepper if needed.  You can hold the grits, covered, on the stove for up to an hour--just reheat over low heat, possibly adding a little stock or butter to loosen them up, when it's time to serve.

For the shrimp:

• 4 slices thick-cut smoked bacon, cut into 1/2" pieces
• 1 cup diced red onion
• 2 large red (or green) bell peppers, diced
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 cup sliced mushrooms (I used baby portobellos)
• 1 to 2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves
• 1 cup sliced scallions (green and white parts)
• 2 10-oz. cans diced tomatoes with green chiles, undrained (I use original Ro-Tel)
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• Tabasco, Worcestershire, cayenne pepper, and salt and black pepper to taste
• 2 pounds shrimp, peeled and deveined

1. Cook the bacon in a large saute or frying pan over medium heat.  When crisp, remove to a paper towel-lined plate to drain.  Reserve 3 tablespoons of drippings in pan (add extra-virgin olive oil if you don't have 3 tablespoons).
2. Raise heat to medium-high.  Add onion and bell pepper to pan and saute for about 6 minutes, until they begin to soften.  Add garlic, mushrooms, and cooked bacon and saute for about 5 more minutes, stirring.
3. Add thyme, scallions, and tomatoes, stirring up the browned bits in the bottom of the pan.  Stir in sugar.  Bring sauce to a boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for about 10 minutes, to meld the flavors and concentrate some of the liquid.
4. Taste sauce, and add salt and pepper to taste (I usually start with a teaspoon of each of these).  If you want more spice than the Ro-Tel tomatoes gave it, add a few shakes of Tabasco or a little cayenne pepper.  Add Worcestershire sauce if it needs a sweeter, smokier flavor--a tablespoon would be good to start.
5. Add the shrimp to the pan, cover, and simmer the shrimp in the sauce for about 8 minutes, checking and stirring often.  The shrimp are done when they are opaque and curled.  

With grits, makes 8 to 10 tapas servings, or 4 main-course servings.

Note:  If you're not serving this right away, leave the shrimp slightly underdone and cover the pan until serving time.  They'll continue to steam in the hot sauce and be just right when you need them.

* * *

In a dedicated effort to offer at least ONE lighter dish, I made shrimp tacos with a maque choux salsa.  Maque choux (say "mock shoe") is a traditional smothered-corn type of side dish said to have been introduced to French and Spanish settlers by Native American tribes, who were great users of corn.  Plenty of maque choux recipes turn the dish into a main course by adding crawfish or shrimp, so I figured a maque choux salsa would work well with a shrimp taco.  I basically just took standard maque choux vegetables (corn, bell pepper, and onion), and didn't cook them, and added jalapeno, cilantro, and some typical salsa ingredients.  The corn was so sweet and tender I didn't even blanch it.

I cut the shrimp in half lengthwise so they wouldn't be so fat inside the little taco shells, but you could also leave them whole.

Shrimp Tacos with Maque Choux Salsa

For the shrimp:

• 1 1/2 pounds large shrimp, peeled, deveined, and halved lengthwise
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• few shakes Tabasco
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon chili powder

1. Combine the shrimp and remaining ingredients in a medium bowl, cover, and marinate in the refrigerator for one to three hours.  
2. When ready to cook, remove shrimp from the refrigerator and let come to room temperature for about 15 minutes.
3. Heat a medium nonstick skillet over medium heat.  Add shrimp and marinade, and saute for about 10 minutes, stirring, until shrimp are cooked through.

For the salsa:

• 1 cup sweet corn kernels (cut from 2 ears freshly shucked corn)
• 1/4 cup minced red onion
• 1/2 cup sliced scallions (green and white parts)
• 1/2 cup minced red bell pepper
• 1 jalapeno pepper, minced (take out seeds for a milder heat)
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• few shakes Tabasco
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• salt and black pepper to taste
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
• juice of one lime

1. Combine corn, onion, scallion, bell pepper, jalapeno, olive oil, and vinegar in a medium bowl.
2. Add Tabasco, cayenne pepper, and a little salt and pepper.  Taste and adjust seasonings.  
3. Cover and refrigerate for a few hours to let flavors meld.  Or, if you don't have time for that, let sit at room temperature for as long as you can.
4. Just before serving, stir in cilantro and lime juice.  Taste and adjust seasonings again.

For tacos:

• 16 small corn tortillas (3.5" diameter)
• optional garnishes: sour cream, shredded lettuce, diced tomato

1. Heat oven to 350.
2. Stack tortillas and wrap them in foil, sealing tightly.  Place them in the oven for about 30 minutes to heat through and soften.
3. Use two tortillas per taco (the outer tortilla is a safety net in case the inner tortilla breaks; some people like to eat both).  Add a few warm shrimp to each taco, top with a couple spoonfuls of salsa, add any additional toppings you like, and eat!

Servings: makes 8 tapas-sized tacos, or 4 normal-sized.

for love of shrimp

gone crawfishing

Crawfish has two usages as a verb in Webster's: one is to catch crawfish, and another is to back out of something you've committed to. But I'm proposing a third definition: to crawfish is to celebrate the deliciousness of the little creatures by churning out as many recipes as you can in one weekend and stuffing yourself full of their glory. And with that definition in place, I can honestly say I have been doing a lot of crawfishing lately.

Our craw-odyssey began on Friday evening with a shellfish stock to use in some of the recipes (and a lot leftover to freeze). Well, actually, it began on Friday afternoon, snacking on crawfish tails and crabmeat pulled from the shells we were using for the stock--one of the rewards of making a stock with the shells of already-cooked sea-things.

For the stock, we took the extra step of roasting the picked shells. Here they are in the roasting pan:

Pretty, huh? They only need about 30 minutes in a 375-oven to intensify and deepen their flavor somewhat. Any longer than that would risk burning the shell and bits of meat still inside, turning them bitter.

I love the way this stock looks. There just isn't a prettier stock than one involving crawfish. Of course, the finished product looks boring and brown, just like a rich chicken stock, but at this point--when the herbs and lemon have just been added and all the little guys are just soaking in the tub, getting to know each other--it's a kaleidoscope of color.

Later that night came Crawfish Etouffee, that iconic Lousiana stew of seafood and vegetables, with a little tomato, served over rice. The above photo shows a step we like to take when making these types of stews (like sauce piquant or jambalaya)--pincé. To pincé (pronounce it "pens'-say") is to add tomato paste and a pinch of sugar when the sauteed vegetables are nearly dry, then stirring and cooking that tomato paste until it deepens in color and intensity--literally just before the sugars scorch. This technique baffled me when I first heard about it, but I have tasted the difference between adding tomatoes to a dish and pincéing tomato paste, and I fully support the pincé camp. Picture adding a can of diced tomatoes with juice, as the original recipe called for--the tomatoes are soft and juicy, and the juice immediately mingles with the other veggies and takes on some of their flavors. But when you add paste, which is thick and somewhat solid, and then refuse to feed the pot with liquid until it's almost completely dry, the paste turns in on itself for moisture and caramelizes, shrinking and condensing even further--thus giving the dish a deep, sweet, tomatoey flavor. You end up with more tomato flavor from less tomato. As you can see, the etouffee turned out rich, red, and creamy, and chock-full of sweet crawfish tails.

The next day there was an incredibly scrumptious Seafood Dip, using up some of the leftover crawfish, crab, and shrimp from the picked shells. Below is a photo of the vegetables and andouille sauteeing and flavoring-up on the stove. Dip made with cream cheese and sour cream is something I make only once or twice a year, usually for parties. But we had all the right bits of seafood and veggies lying around, so...why not?

Finally, on Sunday, I made crawfish pies (pictured at the top of the post), crusted with a delicate cornmeal dough that exfoliates and moisturizes your hands as you mix it (butter + cornmeal = tasty hand scrub!). These didn't taste exactly like a Natchitoches crawfish pie--the filling is more herbal and citrusy, and the pastry is far more delicate (for example, you couldn't drive a bass boat and eat one out of your left hand at the same time). Also, I baked them instead of frying, and I'm so glad I did. That pastry is rich, ya'll--rich. It's got a wonderful buttery flavor and a slight crunch and sweetness from the cornmeal, which is something I adore. In fact, I believe it would be the perfect pastry for a plum or nectarine pie. Gotta get to work on that one.

If you don't have live or freshly boiled crawfish in your area, don't worry. The stock can be made with shrimp and crab shells, or just shrimp shells, and the shrimp can be the raw frozen kind you get in Durant, Oklahoma. The stock won't be the same, but it'll be your own homemade shell stock, and that's a good thing. For the rest of the recipes, it's certainly fine to use pre-shelled, pre-cooked crawfish tails that come in one-pound bags--but note that they must be Louisiana crawfish tails. Look on the bag, it will tell you where they're from. If the bag says they're from China, shake your head and toss that bag back in the bin. If the bag says they're from Louisiana, put them in your cart and maybe wince at the price difference but GET OVER IT. Crawfish from China are antibioticized, flavorless, chewy fluff you wouldn't bait a possum trap with--trust me on this one.

Shellfish Stock (adapted from Hooks, Lies, & Alibis)

• 1 pound each crab, shrimp and crawfish shells (we used way more crawfish shells than the other critters) (you can ask your seafood supplier to set these aside for you instead of buying them with meat inside, if you don't want an awesome lunch while you're peelin')
• 2 onions, chopped
• 2 carrots, sliced
• 2 stalks celery, chopped
• 6 cloves garlic
• 4 sprigs parsley
• 2 sprigs thyme
• 6 whole black peppercorns
• 1 lemon, sliced
• 1 gallon cold water
• 2 cups dry white wine

1. Optional first step: Place the shells in a roasting pan and bake at 375 for 30 minutes, stirring once or twice.
2. In a large stockpot over medium-high heat, combine all ingredients and bring to a rolling boil. Reduce heat to simmer, cover, and cook 45 minutes or until liquid is reduced slightly. During cooking process, skim off all impurities that rise to the surface and discard. Add additional water if necessary.
3. Strain stock through a colander over a large bowl to get the shells and vegetables out. Pour strained stock from bowl back into the stock pot.
4. Strain stock through a cheesecloth-lined colander or very tight sieve to remove smaller bits of shell and vegetables and debris.
5. Cool, portion into rigid containers, and freeze up to a month.
6. You're not done!! Double-bag your trash with the shells in it. Close it up tightly and take it outside to the trash bin. Cover the trash bin. When it's trash day, make sure you get that bin out there in time. If your cooking partner says you can wait until tomorrow, don't you believe it. Fresh seafood shells smell great. Old seafood shells smell like hades.

Makes approximately 2 1/2 quarts.

Crawfish Etouffee (adapted from www.emerils.com)

• 6 T. butter
• 4 T. flour
• 2 cups chopped onions
• 1/2 cup chopped celery
• 1/2 cup chopped bell pepper
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 T. tomato paste
• pinch white sugar
• 2 1/2 cups stock (shellfish, fish, shrimp, or chicken (if you must))
• 1 1/2 t. salt
• 1/2 t. crushed red pepper flakes
• tabasco to taste
• 2 t. Worcestershire sauce
• 2 pounds crawfish tails, with the fat
• juice of half a lemon
• 1 cup chopped green onions
• 1/4 cup chopped parsley
• cooked white rice for serving

1. In a large, heavy saucepan over medium heat, melt 4 tablespoons of the butter and whisk in flour to combine well. Continue to cook this roux, stirring constantly, until it's the color of peanut butter (you might need to lower the heat a bit to keep it from scorching).
2. Add onions, celery, bell pepper, garlic, bay leaves and thyme and cook until vegetables are soft, about 6 to 8 minutes.
3. Add tomato paste and a pinch of sugar and cook, stirring constantly, for 5 to 7 minutes, until tomato paste is a deeper rust in color, but not brown. The mixture will be dry. If it smells like it's on the verge of burning, pour the stock in.
4. Add stock, salt, red pepper, Tabasco, and Worcestershire and bring to a boil. Skim surface, reduce heat to a simmer, and cook uncovered for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.
5. Add crawfish tails and their fat, lemon juice, green onions, and parsley and cook for 15 to 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
6. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary (probably will need to add more salt). Serve over hot rice.

8 servings

Seafood Dip (adapted from The Encyclopedia of Cajun & Creole Cuisine)

• 2 T. butter
• 3 green onions (scallions), sliced
• 1 stalk celery, minced
• 1/2 of a large red bell pepper, minced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 2 T. andouille sausage, minced (or any other flavorful pork--ham, cooked bacon, tasso, etc.)
• 2 t. hot chili, minced (we used a small Italian chili pepper jarred in olive oil; jalapeno would work, or any other hot chili you like)
• 2 cups finely chopped cooked crawfish tails, shrimp, and crab in any ratio you like, or a single one of these
• 1 t. lemon zest
• black pepper, white pepper, and cayenne pepper (the pepper-fecta)
• few dashes Worcestershire sauce
• few dashes Tabasco
• 4 oz. cream cheese, at room temperature
• 1/4 to 1/2 c. mayonnaise
• 1/2 c. sour cream

1. Melt the butter in a medium skillet over medium-high heat. Add green onions, celery, red bell pepper, garlic, andouille, and hot chili and saute for about 5 minutes, until vegetables soften and andouille shrinks and browns.
2. Turn heat to low and add seafood, stirring to combine everything and meld the flavors. Add lemon zest, black, white and red peppers to taste, Worcestershire, and Tabasco. Taste, and if the mixture needs salt, add some. Adjust the seasonings, keeping in mind that the dairy products will soften the heat of the various peppers and have a slight dulling effect on the saltiness.
3. Place seafood mixture in a medium bowl and allow to cool to room temperature. Add cream cheese, mayonnaise, and sour cream to mixture, blending with a rubber spatula or wooden spoon. Taste and adjust seasoning.

Makes about 3 cups. I recommend chilling it in the fridge for a couple of hours to let the flavors develop a little more, but it's so good that you might want to ignore that suggestion and just eat it, standing, in the kitchen. Serve it with some sturdy wheat crackers.

Crawfish Pies (from Crescent City Cooking)

Cornmeal Pie Crust

• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup cornmeal
• 1 T. sugar
• 1 1/4 t. salt
• 1/2 pound (2 sticks) plus 1 T. cold unsalted butter, cut into small dice (I stick mine in the freezer for several minutes after I cut them, so they'll be good and cold)
• 1/4 cup ice water
• 3/8 cup sour cream (I think a 1/2 cup is fine, and easier than this fraction. My dough ended up needing more water, anyway, so more moisture from sour cream would be fine.)
• 1 egg, beaten, for egg wash

1. Place flour, cornmeal, sugar, and salt in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse to combine. Add butter and pulse into the dry mix just until coarse pebbles of butter form.
2. Transfer mixture to a large bowl. By hand, gradually work in the sour cream and ice water. The dough should be soft and pliable but not sticky. Adjust as necessary with flour and water.
3. Chill the dough at least 30 minutes (or up to a day in advance).

Crawfish Filling

• 1 T. olive oil
• 1 T. butter
• 1/2 medium onion, diced
• 1 celery stalk, diced
• 1 small green or red bell pepper, diced
• 1/2 fennel bulb, diced (optional: we used about 9 button mushrooms, chopped, instead)
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 3 green onions, sliced thin
• 3 T. chopped fresh parsley
• 2 T. flour
• 3/4 cup stock (shellfish, seafood, vegetable, or chicken; or 1/2 cup stock and 1/4 cup milk or cream)
• zest and juice of 1 medium lemon
• 1/2 t. Worcestershire sauce
• 1 pound cooked and peeled crawfish tails, coarsely chopped
• salt and pepper to taste
• hot sauce to taste

1. Heat oil and butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onion, celery, bell pepper, and fennel, and saute for about 5 minutes, until softened.
2. Add the garlic, green onions, and parsley and cook for 2-3 minutes more.
3. Sprinkle the vegetables with flour and stir. Whisk in the stock, lemon zest and lemon juice, and Worcestershire.
4. Add crawfish and simmer for a few minutes, until crawfish is warm. Adjust seasonings with salt, pepper, and hot sauce.
5. Cool to room temperature or refrigerate until ready to make pies.
6. When ready to bake pies, preheat oven to 350 and line a baking sheet with parchment or wax paper. Separate dough into 8 portions. On a well-floured surface, roll each out into a 6-inch round, about 1/8" thick (I am no pastry wizard, so I trimmed the rolled-out doughs into circles with a knife). Place 2 to 3 tablespoons of filling on one half, fold the other side over the top, and crimp the edges together with a floured fork.
7. Brush each pie lightly with egg wash, and bake at 350 until golden, about 25-30 minutes. Cool completely on wire racks.

Makes 8 large individual turnovers.

gone crawfishing

roast beef to remember

This photo is my gift to you. Fantastic, rich, tender roast beef and gravy over french fries, and it's not even a holiday...it's just another Sunday in the food capitol of my heart. I had to share.

My new Sunday favorite is Parkway Bakery & Tavern, at Bayou St. John. Our friend John Mark turned us onto this place a few weeks ago--our friend who was visiting. We didn't even know the riches that were waiting for us a mere football field away from our front door. Now we can't stop going.

For the photo experience, order "fries with gravy." I know the photo doesn't look like fries with "gravy"--it looks more like your grandmother's roast beef--but that's what they call it, so just believe them.

Parkway is famous for piling this roast beef onto po' boys, and for their metabolism-demolishing "surf-n-turf" po'boy, which is loaded with roast beef and fried shrimp. We haven't braved that combo yet, though we hear it's mighty good.

Two people can split an order of fries and a large po'boy (pictured below) and leave painlessly satisfied, which is something of a miracle. This is our oyster po'boy. The oysters have a light, breezy coating that's punched up with a little spice. These are some of the best fried oysters I've had in New Orleans; you can tell that whoever fries them has confidence enough not to overcook the little treasures, so they're like hot puffs of sea.

There's a coziness to this place that I adore. Old Dixie Beer signs, eye-rest-green paint in the front room, Barq's root beer, extra napkins on the tables. It's heavily windowed, so sunlight fills the space. You can look out and see the bayou, and it's on a lightly travelled street, so parking, though it can be less than ideal, isn't too much of a challenge. I'd bet that 75% of the traffic is Parkway-bound anyway.

The menu is filled with all sorts of po'boy stylings: hot sausage, bbq beef, hamburger, meatballs, alligator sausage, on and on. They offer a "gravy po'boy" for $4.95, which I suspect, if the gravy is the same as they douse on the fries, may be the best bargain in the city. Vegetarians: there's a caprese--the classic Italian antipasto of fresh mozzarella, tomato, and basil--po'boy on the menu. They don't heat it, but apparently it's very fresh and drizzled with a balsamic glaze. I even heard someone order it without bread, so hey, if you're not into po'boys, you can still hang out with your friends who are.

Their original menu hangs on the wall. They note that these items aren't available any longer, but I really wish they were. Whatever happened to the tongue sandwich's popularity? I remember reading about it in 50's children's mysteries.

And, if you happen to be in town on Monday, March 22, you can stop by Parkway for a taping of Food Wars. They're going head-to-head with Domalise's over shrimp po'boys, and I can't wait.

roast beef to remember

fat and happy at mat and naddie's

Guess what? I had a really good meal for my first birthday as a New Orleans resident (surprise, surprise). We went to a great little place in our neighborhood, Mat and Naddie's, which our neighbor Mark has been telling us we should visit for months. Mark was right--this place is a gem. I'm so glad it's in our neck of the woods.
















The only cocktail I ever want to drink during a stifling New Orleans summer: the Pimm's Cup. I've been trying these at different locations to find my favorite. Mat and Naddie's was smooth, so I don't think they use ginger ale or 7-Up...maybe lemonade? The cucumbers always make me happy.
















A nice sampling of olives, artichoke hearts, roasted peppers, and fresh mozzarella to nibble. Everything was marinated in olive oil and herbs.

















This photo doesn't do justice to these fantastic oysters, on the menu as "Grilled Oysters with Brie Cream and Shiitake 'Bacon.'" That's right--they make a "bacon" out of sliced shiitake mushrooms, I can only guess, by cooking it low and slow in a skillet until it intensifies its shiitakiness and dries out a little, like a mushroom jerky. Or maybe this happens in the oven. There's also a little garlic and pecorino-romano action going on here.
















My fabulous entree, "Spicy Tempura Fried Gulf Shrimp Tonkatsu." This is one of the most exciting dishes I've had in New Orleans. The shrimp are butterflied and coated in a light tempura batter, and somehow remained outside-crispy and inside-silky the whole time I was loving this dish. I didn't know what Tonkatsu meant, so I asked the waiter if this was a good item to order, and he said it was one of the best things on the menu, which I totally believe. Apparently, Tonkatsu is a Japanese combination of fried pork served with something crunchy, like cabbage, and a sweet-spicy sauce. Mat and Naddie's serves their seafood version with a fresh bok choy slaw, sticky jasmine rice, and a sauce--it's one of the best sauces I've ever tasted--of red chile and a deep, complex sweetness, maybe plum, maybe lemongrass, a small piece of sun for brightness, a drop of dew from the Garden of Eden? I will meet this sauce again.

Paul's "Grilled Filet Mignon with Smoked Marrow Compound Butter." Nice. It looks like Paul was eating in another restaurant because this photo was taken with flash. But he wasn't! He was sitting across the table from me! Thank goodness, because I really wanted to taste this, and he was kind enough to let me. Rosemary steak fries (not too exciting), but (continuing from the menu description) "wilted greens and a Maytag blue cheese and bacon buerre rouge." ?!? Please, sir, I'd like some more. While the potatoes were a little too basic to stand up to the rest of the plate, the rest of the plate was divine: a smart combination of beefy, winey, tart, creamy, burgundy, and leafy.

Sorry to say we couldn't squeeze in a dessert to show you. I would've done it too, because I was so impressed with everything else I ate that night. To all my friends: come visit already, so you can go here too!

fat and happy at mat and naddie's

classics (a.k.a. food you can make without thinking)

I used to make this dish, which is basically pasta with shrimp and feta, about once a week. Sadly, this was several years ago, when I lived in Fort Smith, Arkansas, where the shrimp could only be as fresh as their drivers. I'm lucky now to have plump, fresh, affordable gulf shrimp to play around with.

Around 2002/03, when I started making this often, everybody was buzzing about feta cheese and its ideal companions, shrimp and tomatoes. Just seemed natural to toss it with pasta, I guess. Food magazines all weighed in with their own variations (olives. pine nuts. basil. etc.) for a good three years. I can pull any of my old Cooking Light cookbooks from that time period and I'll bet you a stock pot there are at least three recipes in each index.

Of course, tastes change. Feta cheese is so early 2k. Toss those shrimp with some flax seed if you want to be up-to-date. Sometimes I just like to feel dated.



Pasta with Shrimp and Feta

• 2 or 3 Tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• one onion, halved & sliced thin
• 2 to 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 or 3 Tablespoons minced fresh rosemary (or basil)
• 2 or 3 diced ripe tomatoes, or canned diced tomatoes (add extra tomatoes if you like sauce really tomato-ey)
• 1/2 cup white wine or chicken broth, or a few tablespoons of wine vinegar
• 1 teaspoon dried red pepper flakes (or one minced fresh jalapeno pepper)
• raw shrimp, peeled & deveined, about 1 1/2 pounds
• 1 pound pasta, like angel hair or penne
• 1 cup crumbled feta cheese (plain or garlic & herb)

1. Put a big pot of water on to boil for the pasta. Salt it generously.
2. Heat the oil in a large saute pan over medium heat. Add the onions and saute until soft, about 6 minutes. Add the garlic and rosemary and saute 2 minutes, stirring.
3. Add tomatoes (with their juices) and wine. Season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes.
4. Cover the saute pan and simmer over low heat while you cook the pasta.
5. When the pasta has about 4 more minutes to go, add the shrimp to the saute pan. Raise heat to medium, cover, and let shrimp cook in the sauce (about 4 minutes or so).
6. Drain pasta and return to its cooking pot. Check sauce for seasoning. Good things to add for flavor are pesto, tabasco, or extra vinegar.
7. Add the sauce to the pot with the pasta and toss (the pot gives you enough room to get everything really mixed together). Top each serving with a good bit of feta.

Serves 3 with a little left over.

classics (a.k.a. food you can make without thinking)