THE COOKBOOK TEST #0050: RECIPES AND REMINISCENCES OF NEW ORLEANS
INSTALLMENT #0050 (PAID) EUROPE, KINDA / A BRIEF NOTE ON CAFE DU MONDE / A CLASSIC JAMBALAYA / GOTTA LOVE SWEET POTATO PIE
Dear Subscribers,
RECIPES AND REMINISCENCES OF NEW ORLEANS is one of those cookbooks that I find hard to put down once I've picked it up. It's a love letter from another time, published five years before I was born and given as an inscribed gift ("Happy Mardis Gras Maria") when I was all of one year old.
The book was published by the Ursuline Academy Cooperative Club and The Ursuline Alumnae Association, groups working on behalf of a private Catholic girls' school that was founded in 1727. My tiny American brain struggles to even comprehend a time so completely submerged in the past - when the Ursuline Academy got rolling, George Washington was five years away from even being born.
The book's Original Committee of 11 authors includes:
Mrs. Louis Sherwood Crews (Chairman)
Mrs. Robert J. Armbruster
Mrs. Edmond J. Bendernagel, Jr.
Mrs. John C. Clark, Jr.
Mrs. Edward D. Conway III
Mrs. Donald J. DeSautel
Mrs. James S. Hotard
Sister Elizabeth Marie Landry, O.S.U.
Mrs. Leon L. Marks Jr.
Mrs. James F. O'Neil, Jr.
Mrs. Kent Satterlee, Jr.
(Tag yourself; I'm Mrs. Edmond J. Bendernagel, Jr.)
A couple of trends to point out: One, women in classic old-school New Orleans don't seem to get their own names. (Shades of: "Lieutenant, what's your wife's name?" "Mrs. Columbo.")
Two, there are plenty of Jrs. and III's sprinkled throughout - tradition seems to be at the very core of this book, and the team of semi-anonymous wives who created it.
In the hyper-individualized, "10 years ago was a long time ago" land that is America, this stands out. But it also makes sense: New Orleans is the most European-feeling city in the United States, and as such you kind of expect things to be a little more communal, and in somewhat better taste. (The most European-feeling city in North America is Montreal, but that's a discussion for another cookbook.)
With all this in mind, you definitely don't expect this book to read like Guy Fieri's Best Corn Syrup-Based BBQ Num-Num Jams 3, and it really, really doesn't.
Recipes and Reminiscences starts with an 800-word essay about an old staircase. Get a load of the following:
...But there is more to the old Ursuline Convent stairway than a claim to beauty or a boast of strength. It has come rather to stand for a quality of humble and untiring service, a symbol of warm humanitarianism which men in all places and all times have need of - a service such as is afforded by the Ursuline Nuns of New Orleans.
Had it not been for M. Ignace Broutin, however, that stairway would not be there today - nor would the Ursuline Convent, perhaps not even the Ursuline Nuns. It was he, M. Broutin, the military engineer for the colony of New Orleans, who argued with the Ministry of France about the necessity for a new convent, since the first convent, built in 1734 (and poorly constructed) was hardly habitable any longer. It was he who in military fashion built it with walls several feet thick, and he who, to save money and please the Ministry, used the stairway out of the first building.
So the stairway is very old indeed. And what service it has seen! But one must turn to history for that.
Do you know what I like about this passage? Everything. It's serenely confident without being show boat-y. It's about the passage of time in a special place, not about how yummy it is to eat a big ol' crawfish etoufee on Bourbon Street. It connects deeply with history, culture, and tradition. And it's rich with specific detail, making it pretty much the polar opposite of the blandly hateful slurry dumps of keywords that accompany most of the Internet's published recipes.
Here's another bit of writing, from the book's Foreword:
Croquettes de Mais is also another product of the resourcefulness of those early pioneering nuns. From the Indians they learned the use of cornmeal, which they combined with other ingredients to produce a delicious seasoned fried meal cake. The recipe spread throughout the Deep South where, supposedly in Georgia, it received the name of "hush puppies," when a plateful was given to howling hunting dogs to keep them quiet.
News to me, and what an incredible story of coexistence, colonialism, creativity, and New World/Old World synthesis. The book is just larded with memories and essays like this, historical pearls scattered against a workmanlike culinary backdrop of recipes for the likes of Crawfish Étouffée and Creole Beans and Rice and Spoon Bread.
at your service,
James
RECIPES AND REMINISCENCES OF NEW ORLEANS
THE URSULINE ACADEMY COOPERATIVE CLUB AND THE URSULINE ALUMNAE ASSOCIATION
1971 | $3.95
When I was considerably younger, I remember talking to my grandfather about a trip I'd taken to New Orleans with my then girlfriend (now wife), Becca. It was the first real trip we'd ever taken together, and it was less than a year before the arrival of Hurricane Katrina and everything terrible that came along with that storm. Like everyone who travels to New Orleans, we were charmed by the food, by the people, by the music that filled the public spaces, and by the old, weird, gorgeous sense of architectural history apparent wherever you cared to look.
And, of course, we'd gone to Cafe Du Monde for beignets and cafes au lait. I had been worried that the institution of Cafe Du Monde, groaning under the pressure of wave after relentless wave of hungry tourists, would have turned into something utterly Disneyfied and distant from its roots. But no: while service was fast and efficient and the prices assertive (but fair), the beignets and coffee were delicious. We had our breakfast on a patio marveling at how lucky we were to be able to visit something so storied and overexposed, yet still so thoroughly excellent and uncorrupted.
My grandfather told me that he, too had been to Cafe Du Monde, and had enjoyed essentially the exact same experience. "When was that?" I asked. "Oh, that was on my way home from deployment in World War II, in 1945." Cafe Du Monde has been around since 1862, so I guess it's not so shocking that my grandpa had enjoyed the same meal that me and Becca had tried, but at the time I was staggered: 50 years of time gone by between my grandpa's visit and mine, but the beignets and coffee were still standing strong.
LOVE THAT ILL-DEFINED JAMBALAYA
For my savory test of Recipes and Reminiscences, I went for a New Orleans classic: Jambalaya. It's a classic NOLA rice dish, and it brings together French, Spanish, and African influences to make something a bit like a domestic paella. When it's mediocre, it's OK - when it's good, it's great. If you had to assemble an American comfort food hall of fame, I would put it in the all-time top 20, if not top 10.
That loving introduction out of the way, I will say that the recipe for Chicken Jambalaya in Recipes and Reminiscences seemed designed to get my goat. It calls for a "large can" of tomatoes. Like, large meaning "medium-sized?" Large meaning "big"? Large meaning huge? This is from 1971, I don't know what you ancient peoples meant by "large." Guess I'll have to guess!
And it calls for a whole slate of seasonings (including cayenne, chili powder, Worcestershire sauce, and so forth) that you are supposed to add "to taste."
A Tbsp of cayenne? A tsp? A quarter cup? A dash of Worcestershire sauce? Most of the bottle? There's a lot of meat and liquid in this freakin' recipe! Lots of room for error here, people. Oh man, you nuns are going to be the death of me.
At any rate: the recipe that follows is substantially my own, informed by the vague recipe skeleton that came with the book. It's really quite good! Legitimately delicious! You can boost the spices still further if you want some real burn, but I found this complement of seasoning big enough to impart a lot of flavor and a pleasing heat without getting tiresome or overwhelming.
CHICKEN JAMBALAYA ALA JIM
Serves a big crowd (12-16)
9-12 chicken thighs
1 pound smoked sausage (I used kielbasa, but andouille would be great)
3 Tbsp olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
5 ribs of celery, chopped
2 bell peppers, chopped
5 cloves of garlic, minced
28 oz. can of tomatoes
3 oz. of tomato paste
2 tsp cayenne
1 tsp chili powder
2 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
2 tsp hot sauce (I used Frank's)
2 tsp salt
1 cup long-grain rice
Boil the chicken and sausage until tender, about 10 minutes. Remove chicken and sausage to a cutting board, and cut into bite sized pieces (chicken) or discs (sausage) and reserve about 3 cups of cooking liquid. Heat olive oil in large skillet on medium heat, then saute onion, celery, and bell pepper, stirring frequently until soft, about 5-7 minutes. Add garlic and stir until fragrant, about 30-60 seconds. Add chicken, sausage, tomatoes, tomato paste, and seasoning, then stir thoroughly, bring to boil, and bring down to a simmer for 35 minutes. Add 2-to-2 1/2 cups of your reserved liquid and the rice, and cook covered until tender (about 20-25 minutes).
A PIE WITH CHARACTER
In the past I've never totally processed the difference between sweet potato and pumpkin pie, but now that I've made this recipe, I think I get it. There's a little more "there" there with sweet potato pie. I dig it, a lot.
I really liked this recipe specifically - it made a firm, flavorful, tasty pie. It packed a lot of the pleasant flavor and mellow impact of a good pumpkin pie, but with a bigger body to it.
My main objection was that the original recipe called for "pecan halves" without explaining how to incorporate them, or how many to use. It followed this with the recommendation that you should decorate the pie with "additional" pecan halves. My recipe below omits pecans. Mess with them if you'd like, but I don't think they're needed.
The recipe also calls for 1 1/2 cups mashed cooked sweet potatoes, which doesn't sound like very much. I bought a massive sweet potato thinking it would be overkill, but I only ended up with a little more than 1 1/2 cups of mashed sweet potato after roasting it. So go big.
SWEET POTATO PIE
1 1/2 cups mashed cooked sweet potatoes
2/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp cloves
2 eggs
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1 cup evaporated milk
1 9-inch pie shell, unbaked
Roast a large sweet potato at 350 F for about an hour, then scoop out soft interior. Preheat oven to 450 F. Mix all ingredients thoroughly, and pour into pie shell. Bake for 15 minutes, reduce heat to 325, and bake 30 minutes longer.
A VERY SPECIAL POSTSCRIPT
I would feel like a jerk if I didn’t mention that New Orleans is also a special place for me because Becca, while volunteering there after Hurricane Katrina, found and adopted for us a scraggly, hungry, plaster-glue covered little orange cat that she found on a construction site.
That cat, Nola, was one of the most ornery, hilarious, and ultimately delightful pets we’ve ever enjoyed, and for 18 years she kept us company, lightly terrified our guests, and helped give our home its own special je ne sais quoi. Cheers to you, Nola!
THE VERDICT ON RECIPES AND REMINISCENCES OF NEW ORLEANS
(BUY IT / ***BORROW IT*** / SKIP IT / SCRAP IT)
I’m hard-pressed to say this book is a must-buy, unless you’re a New Orleans resident or the city and its food hold an important place in your heart. It’s weird, it’s a bit vague, and it’s both timeless and a little dated. But I truly enjoyed it, and should you get an opportunity to snag a copy, give it a thorough look before you move on with your day. It’s a singular tome.