American Cooking: Creole and Acadian [antikvár]

introduction: 'That luscious fmisiana larder There is a saying in New Orleans: "He who tastes of Mississippi water, he'll be back someday." Meaning: He who has ever savored crawfish bisque (or shrimp jambalaya or redfish courtbouilion), he'll be back the first chance God gives him. One way to tell whether the speaker is a native or adopted Louisianian is his pronunciation of the name of the small lobsterlike crustacean that rises out of the wet soils around the Gulf of Mexico. Most outlanders say "crayfish," but to the native this betrays ignorance; the only permissible pronunciation is "crawfish." To be sure, outlanders can appreciate Creole and Acadian food. Mark Twain once lowered a knife and fork into a plate of steaming pompano from Louisiana's waters and let out a long breath. The dish, he remarked, was as "delicious as the less criminal forms of sin." And a knowing Illinoisan once told me, "You folks down here not only swallow and digest your food with a wonderful enjoyment, but you pleasure yourselves talking and arguing about it, from the ideal combination of herbs to the finest way to mix meats and fish with everything else imaginable." Obviously, food is important to the city Creole and the country Cajun. The story is told of a French-Spanish Creole (a descendant of early settlers) who entered Heaven and waved his hand with typical aplomb toward St. Peter: "Comment ga va, M'sieu Then, with no less ebullience, he tugged at the wing of an angel beside him and asked, "Where's the nearest pot of jambalaya ?"—that vigorously original Louisiana mixture of rice, shrimp, oysters, tomatoes, onion, garlic, various peppers, chicken, sausage, thyme and parsley, among other ingredients. When he found that, for some preposterous reason, the kitchen of the Good Place had overlooked this masterpiece, he shook his head, accosted the next angel and learned that he could get it down below. Without a word he leaped from Paradise—proving, if proof were needed, that a real Louisianian will gladly go to Hell for a dish of jambalaya. Anyone inclined to consider that tale an exaggeration is simply not of Louisiana. In travels on every continent and many countries, I have rarely found a region in which food is so thoroughly or so warmly appreciated—and so often the subject of conversations, ranging from the loudly argumentative to the dreamily reminiscent. Peter Feibleman is strikingly qualified to write of Creole-Acadian food, of its origins, of its best practitioners and of its philosophers, for he has understood and appreciated it from birth. I first met him just after a superlative meal at his father's home in New Orleans. Peter, a rather plump little boy, came into the dining room briefly to be introduced to me. Since then I have visited with him on many occasions, and learned to respect and admire him as a man of rare capacity. He has lived in many parts of the world. He has written perceptive books dealing with many phases of American life; he has had plays produced on Broadway, written for and appeared on national television, and lived as a literary celebrity. But he has never lost his identification with Louisiana, which has brought him back to the state again and again. In this volume he has stressed the way in which Creole and Acadian homes produce food of a quality that equals or exceeds that of the celebrated public places; and as only a native could, he has noted the cuisine's wonderful amalgamation of Latin, Negro, Indian and something else, perhaps best summarized as "of the lowest Mississippi." He has also woven into his passages the flavorful personalities who figure in the Creole-Acadian world of food, past and present. Not the least of these for me, was the original Madame Begué, whose unique establishment flourished near the French Market. She did superbly resourceful things with meat—I have known Creoles whose moustaches quivered at the recollection—but liver was her spécialité. As one old customer assured me, "What that lady did with her liver, no woman on earth ever did." Similarly, what the Creoles and Acadians have done with their food, few people on any continent have ever matched. —Harnett T. Kane, author of "Queen New Orleans," "The Bayous of Louisianil' and "Plantation Parade" South Louisiana (top map) reflects the influence of Creole and Acadian settlers on its place names, customs and cuisines. The detail map (bottom) provides a guide to one of the oldest centers of these customs and cuisines: New Orleans' French Quarter, or Vieux Carré, with its landmarks and famous restaurants. POINTS OF INTEREST: RESTAURANTS: I French Market 10 Acme Oyster House 2 Jackson Square 11 Antoine's i St. Louis Cathedral 12 Brennan's 4 Pontalba Buildings 13 Felix's 5 Cabildo 14 Galatoire's 6 Old Absinthe House IS The Gumbo Shop 7 House of Madame Lalaurie 16 Café du Monde S Old French opera House 17 Morning Call 9 St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 18 Tujague's