parts of a whole

I wouldn't call myself a fan of green beans. There's something about them I just don't really care for--too much "green," too much "bean," too much of each of those combined. And green beans and potatoes? There seem to be many calls for these two items together, in curries, stews, or pasta dishes, and I just don't get excited. For whatever reason, though, I can abide them both in a good, solid niçoise. Perhaps it's the way, in a niçoise, they are two components among several others which are all considered important and equal. Perhaps it's the relentless individuality they retain when grouped this way, much like the way people on a team know, deep inside, that even though there's no "i" in "team," there's a "me."

A niçoise is a pretty forgiving square meal. It's meat (traditionally, tuna), veg (green beans), and potatoes, along with various accompaniments that kind of add up to a plate of hors d'oevres, and it's meant to be served at room temperature, which is always a comfort when you're not really up to finishing several different cooking times at once. There are some steps, but they're basic as basic can be: boiling, steaming, baking, and vinaigrette making. It can be served over greens or not, tossed or not, and made expensive or not (one of the perks of living in New Orleans is freshly caught catfish). It can even be seafoodless and still be very satisfying. There's hardly even a recipe to follow, once you've got the basic idea down.

A More Local Niçoise

• 4 portions of seafood (something inexpensive and local, if possible): shrimp, scallops, catfish, crawfish, tuna, salmon, bass, etc.)
• 12 small red boiling potatoes, scrubbed but not peeled
• 2 big handfuls green beans, trimmed
• 1 large ripe tomato, or 1 pt. cherry tomatoes
• 3/4 cup pitted olives (preferably niçoise, but kalamata are fine too)
• 4 eggs
• 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 lemons
• 2 cloves garlic
• a few teaspoons of wine vinegar (white, red, or champagne)
• 1-2 teaspoons Dijon or grainy mustard
• salt & pepper
• salad greens (optional)

1. Make the vinaigrette first, which is the unifier of this dish: Mince the garlic and place in a bowl or measuring cup large enough for a whisk to move around in. Juice the lemons and add the juice to the garlic. Shake in a little wine vinegar and plop in the mustard. Start whisking this mixture with one hand, and with the other hand, slowly pour in the olive oil. This doesn't need to be perfectly emulsified; you'll keep whisking it every time you use it. Taste it, and add salt and pepper and additional vinegar until it tastes like a strong salad dressing. I like it slightly overseasoned, because the potatoes and beans are going to break it down a little.
2. Potatoes: Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and boil them whole until a knife will almost go into the center of one easily. Take them off the heat, drain, and return to the pot and add the lid. Let them steam in the pot (no fire underneath) for another 10 minutes to finish cooking. Let them cool for a bit, then quarter or halve them, depending on size. Toss them in a bowl with some of the vinaigrette and set aside.
3. Green beans: Put about 1 cup water in a medium saucepan, salt it, and bring to a boil. Add the beans and cook them the way you like them: really crunchy, slightly crunchy, soft, or cafeteria-soft. Drain them, cool them for a long minute, then toss them in a separate bowl with some vinaigrette.
4. Seafood: Decide how you want to cook it: bake, broil, grill, saute, poach, etc. Season it with salt, pepper, and anything else you like (I used catfish & some seafood grill seasoning I had on hand). Drizzle it with a bit of olive oil (or another kind of oil) and cook it the way you like it (I baked it at 400 for about 12 minutes) and let it rest for about five minutes for most of the heat to leave.
5. Eggs: Hard-boil, cool, peel, and halve.
6. Tomatoes: Cut into 8 wedges (if you have cherry tomatoes, you can halve them or leave them whole) (as you might notice in the photo, I forgot to buy tomatoes).
7. Olives: Snack on a few and then just keep them at the ready.
8. Greens (if using): Make these ready to use as a bed for the other ingredients: wash & tear the greens and toss them with some of the vinaigrette, as you would for any salad.
9. Compose: On each plate, place greens, potatoes, green beans, two egg halves, two tomato wedges, several olives, and a portion of seafood. Drizzle a little more vinaigrette over the whole dish and serve.

Serves 4.

parts of a whole

taking the long way

If you want to eat some good seafood, and you want to eat it at a NOLA institution, Casamento's on Magazine Street fits the bill. I fell in love with this place the minute I saw it, though we had to find something else to do with ourselves while we waited for it to open. It was so worth the wait.

The problem was that we arrived too early. Tip #1: they open for dinner at 5:30, Thursday through Saturday only.

So we headed toward the track, to visit Liuzza's, famed for its po' boys--a tip from Davey and Gracie. BBQ shrimp po' boy? Garlic oyster po' boy? Yes. But along the way, we got distracted by the idea of stopping on St. Charles for a drink somewhere, then got even more distracted by a new route which ended up taking us downtown. We decided to land in the Quarter. I found my first-ever parking place on Bourbon Street (a very big deal). Since we were there, we thought, "Frank's"--we'd heard great things about it. Alas, our stay was short. Under pressure from our waiter, we ordered crab-stuffed mushrooms, which were highly flavorful, but $10 for three? Ouch. Tip #2: Frank's is tasty but priced for tourists. Luckily, we mustered the courage to brave the rain and the traffic and head back to the car, by way of Molly's. Tip #3: Molly's is a cozy little place, but it gets real fratty on Saturday night. Back uptown, we returned to our starting point at 7:00 p.m., which was just in time to beat the crowd.

Casamento's was established in 1919 and still inhabits the same location. It's small, tiled, and bright, and you walk through the miniscule kitchen to get to the restrooms. I absolutely love walking through restaurant kitchens. More!

At Casamento's, the sandwiches are "loaves," which differs from a po' boy by bread. The bread for a loaf isn't the light, fluffy New Orleans French that you expect when you order a po' boy. It's thick-cut white toast, the type I normally call "Texas." Somehow that doesn't feel right anymore. I guess I'll start calling it "loaf." I think there's a little garlic butter spread on this bread. Your basic NOLA "dressing" of mayo, tomato, and lettuce, and then the lightest, freshest fried catfish you can imagine. Oh my.




























The menu is small but complete. Everything you could want in a New Orleans seafood joint is there: seafood gumbo (a tomatoey version), fresh, juicy raw oysters ($9 a dozen! $4.50 half dozen!), fried trout and catfish, softshell crabs. The star, to me, was the catfish loaf I ordered--the best-tasting sandwich I've had in this city, bar none. I'm a fan of Casamento's for several reasons, but their "small prices"--the choice you have of ordering a full-sized dinner for $12 or a half-sized dinner for $6.75--are the most important, for me. I'm a taster. I don't need a huge plate, and I usually don't even want it. I respect a restaurant that does something to keep me coming back: excellent food, fair price.

taking the long way

no "organary" breakfast

Mmm...liver. And onions. And grits--don't forget the grits that should be a component of every true Southern breakfast. And the perfect biscuit, both cloud-light and butter-rich.



Riccobono's Panola Street Cafe, in the Riverbend, is a homey, silverware-clanking spot on a residential street (7801 Panola), which helps contribute to the feeling that you've tapped into a true locals' secret. You walk in and seat yourself (if there's a seat to be had), read the menu waiting for you on the table, and linger over the paper and a cup of coffee. Prices aren't high, service is friendly enough, and there are several interesting options to try.

For instance, the crawfish omelet, full of crawfish, sausage, bell peppers, and onions. With grits, of course. And biscuit.

If liver and crawfish don't call to you in the morning, don't fear. The ordinary but soul-satisfying breakfast fare is all here as well: pancakes, sunny-side upps, bacon, and benedict.

By the way, if you're wondering what eating liver for breakfast is like, it's like this: each chew alternates between the flavors of steak and vitamins. Vitamin-steak-vitamin-steak-vitamin-steak. Swallow. Not bad, lots of iron, fortifying. Not exactly juicy.

They also serve lunch--sandwiches, burgers, salads, gumbo--quickly and affordably.

no "organary" breakfast

we can make it together

Remember that old Tony Orlando & Dawn song, "Candida"? Sing the chorus, but substitute the word "Mandinas." Good. Now you're humming the tune I was last Sunday, after we visited this famous New Orleans eatery.

Located on Canal Street in Mid City, Mandina's--a bright & friendly family restaurant--serves up classic New Orleans food like gumbo, turtle soup, fried oysters, and po' boys, and laces its menu with Italian-American faves (veal or chicken parmesan, spaghetti and meatballs). It won't be a quick trip, but you'll enjoy every minute you spend tasting.

my happy face

turtle soup au sherry (dark), crab and artichoke soup (pale); seafood platter (oysters, shrimp, catfish, and crab "ball" (like a crab hushpuppy))

Creole eggplant (casserole with shrimp, ham, & crabmeat, served with spaghetti) and a cold Dixie

Just take my hand and I'll lead ya!
I promise life will be sweeter,
'Cause it said so, in my dreams...

we can make it together

virgin no longer: a seafood love story

I'm an Oklahoma girl, born and raised, so it should be understandable that I never had much occasion to sample raw oysters. There is a popular oyster bar, P&J Oyster Co., in Tulsa's Brookside (near my stomping grounds), which my dad visited occasionally, but when the family went, I only ordered fried shrimp. I should admit here that I was fifteen or sixteen before I could even abide the texture of shrimp.

But after a few years of eating shrimp, I palated scallops, then lobster, then clam strips. Then I tasted my first fried clams "with bellies"--the whole animal--at Cape Cod. After those, I was hooked on all the secret, dark wonders of the fruits of the sea.

I became a sort of sushi wunderkind. I craved mussels, relished snails, and devoured squid. And now, I can slosh oysters down with all of you. Order up.

My de-flowering experience took place at Felix's Oyster Bar in the French Quarter--romantically, also the place where my Paul had his first raw oysters (though he was ten years old--what a pro!). The oysters were so juicy, cold, and fresh; they tasted like the sun-drenched air above the seawater. That's the best way I can think of to describe it.

I'm still quite a fan of all the different cooked-oyster treats I get to sample here in New Orleans. At Felix's, I had my first serving of Oysters Rockefeller, with their casserole-like spinach topping, and Oysters Bienville (left side of plate), which has a rich, custardy sauce. Serious yummers. (Check out John Folse's Bienville recipe here: http://www.jfolse.com/recipes/seafood/oyster06.htm)

What also happened: turtle soup. Gosh.

Note: I'd like to ladle on some advice to all you raw oyster-eaters trying to convince non raw oyster-eaters to try them. Don't say anything about texture. If you can eat steak, you can eat an oyster. I was shy for way too long due to texture comments. That's all.

virgin no longer: a seafood love story

ever feel like sampling a little seafood?

Last weekend, I attended my first New Orleans food festival--the Seafood Festival, held downtown on Fulton Street. This was also my first experience with Drago's: their famous char-grilled oysters. On the bottom is their grill (which also happened to have the longest line at the party); top left is the finished product--tender oysters, romano and parmigian cheeses, pepper, lemon, and hot-hot-hot shells.

Crawfish cakes from Mr. B's and Paul's happy face.

Alligator sausage & seafood gumbo from Red Fish Grill and shrimp remoulade from Galatoire's. If you guessed "yum," you're right. Incidentally, this was also my first Galatoire's. It was a big day.

ever feel like sampling a little seafood?

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)