Louisiana Lessons

Ok, so I have a co-worker named Andy.  His nicknames are Eye-Candy Andy and Sexual Harassment Panda.  Anyway, he is interested in Louisiana cuisine, so I have been showing him a few dishes during down time.  I promised to teach him a new Louisiana dish every week till the end of the year.  This is great for me, too, because I need a refresher, and it helps you tighten technique to teach it to someone else.

First we did Etoufee.  In this case, we used shrimp, because that's what we had access to.  This allowed me to show the brown roux technique (along with my secret hack trick, which I will not state here, but it rhymes with Bitchin' Croquet).  So many cajun and creole stews use this formula, I had to say 'To be honest, it can be hard to say where etoufee stops and gumbo starts.'  It came out really nice.

Next up, we tackled Blackened Fish.  Our blackening seasoning wasn't totally authentic, just because I don't keep that many dry herbs and spices on hand, but we faked it nicely.  Smoked paprika, salt, sugar, pepper, cayenne, and oregano.  The sugar is a controversial ingredient, but I like it.  It just burns black, but it helps the crust really stick on and gives it a bitter edge that really accentuates the sear and plays well with the heat.  To complete the dish, we did Brabant Potatoes (another NOLA original), and Hot-Sauce-Honey-Butter, which is cliche, but also delicious.  The fish we used was flounder, which I acknowledge is not the authentic choice, but its what we had.

Lastly, this sloppy mess is Barbecue Shrimp, in the style of Pascal's Manale on Napoleon.  Really came out amazing.  I never understood why it is called Barbecue Shrimp, but New Orleans cuisine has always had things with really odd, esoteric names, so why not?  Are you familiar with this one?  I sort of reverse-engineered the dish, using a couple of online recipes and my personal experiences.  You should try it.  You need:

Half a pound of head-on shrimp
Olive Oil
2 lemons, cut into wedges
6 cloves of garlic, chopped
2 branches of rosemary, chopped
1 beer
1 T. worcestershire
1 stick butter, diced
Salt, black pepper, cayenne, parsley
Toasted French Bread

Heat the olive oil in a skillet.
Add the lemons and let them caramelize a little bit.  This will spit and fuss, but the depth it gives to the broth is outstanding.
Drop in the garlic and rosemary, shaking the pan well.
A blast of aroma should hit you in the face.
At this point, drop in the shrimp, deglaze with the worcestershire and half of the beer, and season heavily with the salt and 2 peppers.
Slam the rest of the beer for me, boo.  Or share it with an attractive young librarian and try to get her into a festive temperament.  And remember, beer comes in six-packs, so you can apply more if necessary (for the librarian, not the shrimp.)
Swirl in the butter and check seasoning.  Sprinkle parsley over.  This is window-dressing only, but its a pretty ugly dish, so it needs help.

The way you eat a shrimp is to peel it (still hot and totally greasy, do not wear white for this one), dip the tail meat into the spicy buttery beer jus (holding it by the head), and then eat it in one bite, slurping at the head juices.  Then dip some bread into the jus, soak it up and consume.

This might be the best way in the universe to eat shrimp.

Carving of the Fruit

My outlet at work is the fruit display and so far watching YouTube videos while I eat breakfast has served me very well. At first it was hard for me to see what I wanted to carve by just looking at the fruit. I had to see someone else do it first VIA YouTube before I could understand it. I am slowly getting better at visualizing and kinda doing my own thing based on the fruit I have available to me. I hope to be able to manipulate colors soon. Honeydew, cantaloupe, and watermelon especially because if I can use the three colors they naturally possess to my advantage then the only limitation is my imagination! X D

FoodHack: Vietnamese Ramen @ CO

THE PROBLEM:  With certain noodle bowl dishes, I find the broth the most interesting, the goodies, the second most interesting, and the noodles the least interesting.  I realize this is hypocritical, due to my conviction that quality of pasta outstrips quality of sauce in importance, or that the tortilla makes the taco, or that good pizza is impossible with mediocre crust, but its true.  When I order the Pho at Pho #1 on Rivers Ave., I invariably have a half pound of noodle sitting at the bottom of my bowl.  My beloved XO ramen at Co shares the same fate.  I realize that the proper noodle texture is paramount, but that doesn't stop me from ignoring the noodles once I've had a bite or two.  I have said on multiple occasions that if Co was out of noodles, pork, fried shallots, and eggs, I would still be happy to pay my $13 for a big cup of XO ramen broth and a straw.

THE HACK:  Consider the great French classic, pot-au-feu.  It is a boiled meat dish served in several courses.  First, the grilled tranches of bread, smeared with the marrow simmered from the soup bones, sprinkled with course salt.  Then, the broth, clear, glistening with beef fat, and, if you're lucky, given the golden color and complex perfume that including a slice of spleen will yield (or so I've read, its damn hard to find cow spleen in this town).  Lastly, a plate of the assorted boiled meats, along with the tender vegetables, accented with pickles and mustard.

I took a similar course the other day with my Vietnamese Ramen at Co.  The bowl arrived steaming in front of me.  First, I stole a few jalapeno slices from my neighbor's garnish tray to give the broth a little zing.  Then, I ate the broth, rapidly and appreciatively, along with the scallions and fried shallots that dress the surface of the soup, along with the soft poached egg, of course.  I may have had a bite or two of the firm noodles or yielding pork belly during this onslaught, but I couldn't swear it.  So there I was, satisfied with my Vietnamese Ramen experience, but still guilt-stricken about the large pile of rapidly cooling noodles in front of me, mingled with limp strands of bok choy and bits of braised pork, all insipid and weak without their dance partner, the bewitchingly subtle and powerful Vietnamese Ramen broth.

The solution?  Have a second course.  Now that I had consumed my beloved Vietnamese Ramen/Egg Broth Soup, I was going to have Spicy Noodle Salad.  I took the bottle of Co housemade Singapore Hot sauce (full of black sesame seeds and other fascinating little bits) and poured a generous amount over my noodles and tossed them well.  The hot, chunky condiment glazed the bok choy, the cool noodles, and the pork, which had already given much of its life to the broth and was now just an excercise in texture, with acidic, fiery pizazz.

You can have your noodle bowl.  I will settle into a Two Course Degustation of Savory Broth followed by Spicy Congealed Noodle Salad.

The waiter looked at me like I was crazy.

Nouveau Creole-Italian Shrimp Dish

Shrimp a la Nage 'Barbecue,' Baby Potatoes, Baby Artichokes, Rosemary

Of the two great cuisines of South Louisiana, this dish typifies Creole.  I'm here defining Creole as New Orleans fusion, big city cuisine, classical European-inflected elegance.  Specifically, this calls to mind the tradition of Italian cooking in New Orleans.  After all, the first Italian and Sicilian immigrants that came to the US in the 19th century came to Louisiana.

This dish is a spin on BBQ shrimp the way they do it at Pascal's Manale on Napoleon Ave.  However, I lightened the sauce, added some actual vegetables, and serve it in the broth.

For the broth:
Shell 2# of shrimp
Saute the shells with olive oil
Pour 2 beers over the shells and add 1 lemon, cut in half, 1 head of garlic, cut in half, and 2 branches of rosemary.
Add a whole stick of butter to this mess.
Add water to cover, about an ounce of worcestershire, and season to taste with Slap Ya Mama shrimp boil and salt.  The broth is actually eaten with a spoon, so go easy on the boil, watch the spicy.

Simmer this 35 minutes and strain.  You will want to press the shells in the strainer.

Trim and halve 1 dozen baby artichokes.  Cook these in the flavorful shrimp-beer-butter broth.  When they are tender, strain and let them hang out in the cooler.

Add 1 pound of baby potatoes to the broth.  Simmer until they are just tender and then let them soak up the broth's flavors while they cool.  They are like little sponges.  Remove them when the broth is cool.

Ok, so now you have:
1) 2# raw shrimp
2) 24 little pieces of shrimp and rosemary-flavored baby artichoke
3) 1# of little tiny shrimp and rosemary-flavored potatoes
4) An amazing shrimp/artichoke/butter/garlic/rosemary/worcestershire/beer broth

Heat the broth back to a boil, rewarm the veg in the broth, correct the seasoning (with lemon, worcestershire, Slap ya Mama boil, and salt, as needed) and poach the shrimp.  When the shrimp are cooked, sprinkle the whole thing with a tiny amount of chopped rosemary and ladle into bowls.


D, D's mom, Lynn and her girlfriend Alisha, and I, had this for dinner the other night and it was great.

The Missing Booklet

Hello, dearie!  I finally got around to opening the secret envelope in the Lucky Peach.  Inside is this little booklet.  I haven't gotten to read it yet, but it is a journal covering MAD, which is a culinary symposium hosted by Rene Redzepi of NOMA.

There are reports of what the speakers had to say, but a lot of that is probably available as on-line videos anyway.  There are some recipes, but not enough to justify the cost of re-buying the magazine in the first place.

At any rate, I propose that when I am finished with the little booklet, I will xerox anything that I want to save and just mail it to you.  I would be happy to share.  You brought me my first Lucky Peach, and for that I owe you.  And if I ever need to look at it again, that would just give me a great excuse to get together with you, perhaps for some fish-ass-kicking.  BTW, if you would please move the fuck back to Charleston, I would appreciate it.

As regards your review so far, I have the following reactions.

Over Easy: First I say, don't knock Daniel's 20 minute scrambled eggs till you've tried it.  In my experience, eggs are one of those things that you can go overboard with technique, and be handsomely rewarded.  I have seen several chefs do some pretty over-the-top things with eggs, and sometimes too much is just enough.

Cases in point:
Bernard L'Ouiseau used to crack an egg white into a buttered pan, and then cook it till it was almost set in a medium-low oven.  Then, he would gently set the yolk in the middle of the white and put it back in the oven until the yolk was just warm.  This was how he did sunny-side up eggs, because he was frustrated with the bottom of the yolk overcooking while he waited for the top of the white.  Oh BTW, Bernard L'Ouiseau, La Cote d'Or, 3 Michelin stars.

Patrick O'Connel has a method for scrambling eggs that Tarver taught me.  He cracks the eggs whole into a steel bowl and gently stirs them over a double boiler, not breaking the yolks (or at least as few as possible), so the whites cook into curds.  Then, when the whites are set, he turns off the heat and stirs vigorously while adding whole butter and salt.  The yolks all break, and warm through from the heat of the whites, but this way you can stop the cooking while they are still kinda liquidy.  Its over-easy scrambled eggs.  By the way, Patrick O'Connel, AKA the Notorious P.O.C., isn't in the Michelin guide, but he has 5 stars, 5 diamonds.

Having said all that, I think I would prefer someone make that omelet for me, rather than me making it myself.  And the ban xeo does look really good.

The Imaginary Dinner was indeed a downer, but sometimes sad things happen.  Maybe telling the story made the cook feel better...  Who can say?


All the World's a Stage
This one made me think of you, and of my first stage.  I don't think we would have been friends if we had met when we were both 22.  I was a little partied-up piece of shit.  But I did work really hard, I guess.  I wish I could have been there for your stage.  All this aside, you make an interesting point about cooking school.  My feeling is this: cooking school is hugely expensive and wasteful.  You can learn a lot more, faster, by staging.  However, its during cooking school that most of us develop the confidence to go out and stage.  The act of enrolling in school means you have jackets, and a decent set of knives, and it kind of demystifies the whole chef-cook relationship.  I feel like by the time a lot of us realize cooking school wasn't necessary, we are already graduated.  Obviously, I feel like staging is the second-best way to learn, but I'll go you one better.  I absolutely believe in the power of mentoring.  Find someone whose skills you admire that cares about you.  I heard an MIT graduation ceremony on the radio, and one of the things the guy said was this:

"There is a three-step road map to success.  1, find a good mentor.  2, surround yourself with people that know more than you.   3, bend over backwards making yourself useful to these people.


So that's my thoughts on that.  I'll send you the booklet when I'm finished reading it.

Love you sis

Lucky Peach: Cooks and Chef Issue (Part 1)

So far I have read the first three articles in this issue. Here they are with a a few thoughts.

Over Easy
It is about eggs so I  was already intrigued! I loved learning about the different styles of omelets. I have to say that Jimmy Tu's Vietnamese style know as Bánh Xèo sounded the most delicious. Omelet + Crepe = Happy Belly. I think I may try this out soon. I may be a little harsh in saying this but Daniel Boulud needs to go somewhere with his 20 MIN!? omelet. Seriously?

The Imaginary Dinner (SPOILER ALERT)
I really loved about 3/4 of this article till it ruined my mood in the last 1/4. Its a good story about two people loving food and having the common goal of finding the best ingredient locally. They have a great friendship that picks up right where it left off after long endeavors apart. When one takes ill the other dreams of a dinner as sort of the last mean type scenario that he wants to make for his dying friend. I like this concept. We hear the question asked "What would you eat at your last meal?" But even as a cook I don't think I have ever asked myself what I would cook for someone for their last meal. I guess this question never gets asked because it is usually irrelevant. You don't choose what someone eats for their last meal THEY DO. Still I liked the idea. BUT THEN instead of a grand dinner full of food flavored by memories. The cook makes jell-o for his friend, the friend dies while the cook is at work, and then he just sighs and goes back into the kitchen to hide in his work?! LAME LAME LAME! It a true story but still! Why tell that story then?

All The World's A Stage (CUTE TITLE)
I really enjoyed this one! I have technically only been through one stage in my career and that was at Tristan. I was scared, frazzled, and excited all at the same time. I really enjoyed my stage even though the WHOLE time I was saying to myself. "Enjoy tonight Sarah cause there is NO WAY you are getting this job." Still one of the best experiences of my life. This article rang true with my own feelings about stages. I liked hearing the Chef's perspective as well. I have to say that after reading this article I am on the fence about whether or not school is important compared to just staging. I think it is doable to just stage and not go for the formal education but finding the right kitchens and being self disciplined is also needed to succeed this way. Does that mean culinary school is for the less focused?

All and all good stuff so far! One sad thing though you will have to fill me in on. When Rachel got the magazine it wasn't in a plastic casing as usual. I didn't think anything of it until I started reading. Do you remember in one of the issues there was a page that looked like a stomach with stitches? It had a booklet inside about intestines. Well this issue as the same thing except someone took my little booklet! BOOOOOOOOO! SO let me know what it is and if it is worth it to go buy another copy so I can have the full issue. Hope you are well and restaurant 10 days is buzzing along nicely!    

Ok, lets close this review up

Final stretch...

Four meals in the Toughest Strip Club in LA is just what it sounds like.  Honestly, not that much about food here, but I did learn a new cocktail.  The ingeniously-named "Adios, Motherfucker", a long island with blue curucao instead of triple sec and 7up instead of coke.  According to one of the dancers, its 'all the rage in Paris.'  That was the single best thing I read in this mag.

The Breast Giveth- Is a discussion of milk and food that comes from it, with recipes.  Forgettable, but there is a cool frozen yogurt version of Key Lime Pie i'd like to try.

Make Yourself Useful- is a kind of unsettling story about a trek through the jungle killing and stuffing exotic birds.  Not really for me, but you might find it interesting.

Meat Maids is a nasty photo-essay of some butcher women in Ho Chi Mihn's Chinatown.  They must not like ice or refrigerators there.

Amaranth is a short story about a girl in an awful situation taking control of it in a very negative way.  A good read, but frankly disturbing.  Don't see what it was doing in Lucky Peach, but I read it and I'm glad I did.

Then, a couple of mom's meatloaf recipes.  Pretty standard, but I love the way they are written.  Real cooks talking to real cooks.  You should check this one out.  Ignore the photo of the dude in red trunks.

Then a really, really weird article about sexual reproduction from Harold McGhee.  A little too technical for me, but it raised some interesting points about the future of genetically modified produce.

And lastly, a bizarre little piece about turtle scrotum tea, which Jamaicans (apparently) drink for enhanced sexual male performance.  Should have been on the man side.



That's all babe.  Some of it was a little silly, but there was good in there.  I can't wait to talk about the next issue.