The fine folks at our sister site Blogging New Orleans have been covering Jazz Fest over the past three days, and have been running their own little food porn collection of the meals available for purchase.
Most every country or region uses a trinity, or a basic mix of flavors (generally vegetable-based, spice-based, or a combination of the two) for a majority of their signature dishes which include soups, stews, sauces, or variations thereof. Though we have touched on this a few times in the past, I think it bears repeating - especially as to why these flavor combinations are so important for regional dishes.
The Szechuan trinity is a mix of ginger, green garlic, and chili peppers. In Lebanese cuisine, it is a combination of garlic, lemon juice and olive oil. Italy has two - the first is tomato, garlic and basil, which is obviously used for anything with a tomato-based flavor, and the second trinity is olive oil, onion and garlic which is used for just about everything else. In France they use a combination of onions, carrots, and celery called Mirepoix. Admittedly, I make a fresh batch of Mirepoix twice a week and simply keep it in a Zip-lock bag in the fridge because I use it so often.
Over the next few days we'll be taking a look at a number of dishes that fall into the 'Cajun', 'Creole', and 'Southern' food categories. Though there are distinct differences between each style of cooking, for ease of posting I'm going to lump them into the single category of "Mardi Gras food".
I use a basic Creole spice in most of my dishes which I'll be referencing back to over the next couple of days. This is very similar to Emeril's "essence", though each recipe varies slightly. You can adjust the amounts to suit your own personal taste, though the mixture below will produce a nice blend of seasonings and spice that will accent and flavor your food without adding too much heat. If three-alarm is what you are looking for, by all means add more cayenne!
In this month's issue of GQ magazine, food guru Alan Richman took a glossy, 8-page look at the food of New Orleans post-Katrina. The idea sounds like a good one, so why is the article so controversial? The problem is that the piece was not gushing, not exactly sentimental and, in parts, not accurate about the city and its food.
To date, the vast majority of the pieces about New Orleans have been stories of survival and of working to restore the city to its former state. People rebuild their homes and lives. Restaurants struggle to clean up, reopen and attract customers. Richman writes some about the touching, uplifting parts and the grassroots movements of people to get their lives back in order, but does not write exclusively about the uplifting parts, in fact stating that "New Orleans shouldn't exist," referring to it below-sea level elevation right on a vulnerable coastline. In another controversial assertion, he says that Cajuns originated in Canada, which is true, contrary to what some of his critics have said. However, Richman also states that he doesn't think Creoles ever really existed, but the term applied to a definite and large group of people in the city. He explains his position in the GQ podcast, by the way.
Grits get a bad rap. Thought of as a staple in Appalachian and Deep South diets (which conjures up plenty of fried and fatty foods), grits are making their way into the mainstream and, gasp, can be had in restaurants as far north as Seattle and Boston.
Grits, or hominy grits, are made from corn kernels dried on the cob, removed, and soaked in a solution of baking soda, lime or wood ash. The kernels are then dehulled from the hominy. There is a do-it-yourself process from Mountain Laurel in case you venture to try a grits dish and want to give it whirl in the kitchen. Watch the lye solution ... I've made soap this way and you wouldn't want any going down the gully.
I'd like to see grits incorporated into recipes considered traditionally Northern: any rice/meat combo that doesn't involve shrimp: souffles, tabuli, any rice dish. Still, pork-laced red beans and grits, Andouille (a Louisiana sausage) and grits, creamed spinach and grits ... I feel like the shrimp boat guy in 'Forest Gump.' Seriously, check out the grit scene. And if there isn't one around you, start asking hosts/hostesses to pass along the request to management at your eats joints.
It's Fat
Tuesday, and though you could probably entertain yourself at home with food and drinks, it's much more of a party if
you go out on the town. If you're in LA, here are a few suggestions for Cajun, Creole, and Southern cooking:
Bayou Grille, 1400 N. La Brea Ave., Inglewood, (310) 673-0824
Blue Bayou 1313 S. Harbor Blvd., Anaheim, (714) 781-4565
Bourbon Street Shrimp 10928 W Pico Blvd, Los Angeles, (310) 474-0007
Gumbo Pot at the Farmers' Market, 6333 W Third St, Los Angeles, (323) 933-0358, www.thegumbopotla.com
Harold and Belle's 2920 W Jefferson Blvd, Los Angeles, (323) 735-9023
House of Blues 8430 W Sunset Blvd, West Hollywood, (818) 761-4243, www.hob.com
Mardi Gras 10151 Riverside Dr, Toluca Lake, (818) 761-4243, www.lamardigras.net
New Orleans 140 Pier Ave, Hermosa Beach, (310) 372-8970
Gumbo is a very thick soup, almost a stew, that can be attributed to the Creole kitchen (it has
also been called "Cajun" but I'll let them experts fight that one out).
Gumbo likely began when French settlers in Louisiana made their native bouillabaisse, substituting
ingredients that were available to them locally. As settlers from different countries arrived in Louisiana and added
their influences, bouillabaisse gradually evolved into gumbo. The name "gumbo" is derived from the
African word "quingombo," which refers to okra, one of the primary ingredients in a proper gumbo.
The base for gumbo is a dark roux made from a 1:1 ratio of flour and oil. The roux acts as a thickener. Okra is
also added, and is what thickens the gumbo. However, when okra is not in season, cooks use only the dark
roux. File powder or gumbo file, made from
sassafras, was used at one time as a thickener as well, but is not as common today. If there is okra in the gumbo,
however, it is absolute sacrilege to add file powder.
Once the roux has darkened, cooks add the Holy Trinity (chopped bell pepper, celery, and onion) and stock made from
whatever ingredients will be in the final gumbo - chicken, sausage, or shellfish. The meats are added and the gumbo is
simmered on the stove top until the meats are cooked through.
Though gumbo is sometimes considered a thick soup, some gumbo purists argue that it must be ladled over plain white
rice.
I had my fill of gumbo at restaurants over the weekend, so I'll leave the home-cooking up to you:
Since Mardi Gras
is coming up on Tuesday, we've been making all kinds of Creole, Cajun, and purely-for-Fat Tuesday dishes in the Slashfood
kitchens this past weekend.
Jambalaya is a rice-based dish that is popular in the American
South, and is most often associated with New Orleans. If you've been paying attention to out study of Cajun vs. Creole cuisines, you know
that jambalaya is common to both.
It's not clear where the name "jambalaya" comes from. Some say it is derived from French word
"jambon" for ham, "a la," and an African word, "yaya," for rice. Personally, I think it
just means a "jumble" of rice, vegetables, and whatever chicken, pork, and crustaceans you have lying around,
because that's what it looks like in the pot and on the plate.
At the heart of jambalaya is rice, spice, and the "Holy Trinity," chopped onions, bell peppers,
and celery. From there, every recipe for jambalaya takes on the personality of its cook. It can be made on the stove
top or in the oven, it can be soupy or stew-y, it can have chicken or ham or sausage or crustaceans or all of the
above. It's all up to you.
The word "Creole" is derived from the Spanish word "Criollo," a term used in the 1700s by the
Spanish governing the New Orleans. Criollos were people of European descent living in the area. "Creole" came
to imply refinement and elegance.
While Cajun cooking is a fusion of primarily rustic, provincial French and American Southern cooking, Creole
cuisine additionally draws influences from the Caribbean, Africa, and Spain, using more classical European methods and
techniques with locally available ingredients. Like the original implication of the word, Creole is a
slightly more sophisticated style of food than Cajun.
Like Cajun cooking, Creole chefs use filé powder as well as the "Holy trinity" of bell
peppers, celery, and onions. Creole recipes also use butter, cream and tomatoes. Famous Creole recipes that are
shared with Cajun cooking are jambalaya and gumbo.
However, unique to Creoles are oysters Rockefeller, bananas Foster, shrimp rémoulade, and bread pudding.
A jar of honey can become a sticky mess. Next time you're adding honey to another dish or a mug of tea, use a honey dipper to prevent a thick gooey layer from spreading.