"For some people, the way they eat boudin is to bite off the first bite and squeeze out the filling the rest of the way," explains event organizer Bob Carriker, who created the web site The Boudin Link to chronicle his ardor for the spicy, rice-y, pork-based snack. "And some people like to eat the casing as they go."

Carriker polled attendees at last year's cookoff, the first edition of the festival, and discovered the crowd was almost evenly split: Discarding the casing was favored by 117 voters, while 86 boudin fans claimed they liked their casing on.

"This is a raging debate in South Louisiana," Carriker says. "Health care, schmealth care."

As Carriker's lingo suggests, he's not a Louisiana native. He moved there from Washington for a job, and immediately set about acquainting himself with the state's cuisine.

Middendorf's in 2006. Photo: Rdpeyton, Flickr

A hurricane can't keep a good restaurant down.

Middendorf's, a Louisiana catfish institution, on Wednesday reopened in its original location, nearly one year after four feet of Hurricane Ike floodwaters sloshed through the building. The exiled restaurant kept serving guests in an adjoining annex, but owner Horst Pfeifer says a white coat of paint applied to the structure known as the "brown building" didn't fool his longtime customers.

"It means a lot to people," Pfeifer says. "They want to be in the original building."

Middendorf's, which celebrated its 75th birthday on July Fourth, was the brainchild of Louis Middendorf, a lousy fisherman whose catch didn't pay the bills. He used his $500 World War II veteran bonus to start the cafe and stationed his wife Josie in the kitchen. Her paperthin fried catfish, which gained more fans every time the state poked another interstate past Manchac, was ultimately celebrated by Saveur and -- of greater interest to the Middendorf's crowd -- the quarterback-rich Manning family.

Sweet potato fries. Photo: Louisiana Sweet Potato Commission

Sweet potatoes, long touted for their nutritional attributes, are soon to make a cameo in the fast food world.

To keep up with the mushrooming demand for sweet potato fries -- a snack which about a decade ago was primarily available from eateries that stocked their condiment caddies with liquid aminos and stuffed their Reubens with tempeh -- ConAgra Foods Lamb Weston has announced plans to build the world's first large-scale facility dedicated to sweet potato processing. According to a release, the Louisiana plant will allow Lamb Weston to meet the sweet potato fry needs of the nation's "largest quick-service restaurant chains."

"Sweet potatoes are a strategic priority for ConAgra foods," CEO Gary Rodkin says in the announcement.

René Simon, director of the Louisiana Sweet Potato Commission, isn't bothered that the deep-fryer has helped turn the spotlight on his state's signature Beauregard sweet taters (which, weirdly, many Louisiana farmers call "yams," a misnomer that entered the Pelican State's vocabulary at the behest of a 1950s marketing exec).

"This is the South," he laughs, telling Slashfood: "Don't we fry everything?"

Jambalaya. Photo: madaise, Flickr

Red Lobster this summer became the latest fast-casual chain to dip into the bayou for a promotional menu item, reflecting a mainstreaming of Louisiana flavors many experts attribute to the continuing diasporas of chefs displaced by Hurricane Katrina.

Red Lobster, which has introduced many American landlubbers to seafood through its 600-plus locations, recently debuted a "New Orleans jambalaya," made with shrimp, sausage and "Creole seasonings." Earlier this year, O'Charley's tested a Cajun-spiced shrimp salad, while Chili's tried to lure customers by slashing the price of its Cajun chicken pasta. And Uno Chicago Grill set its sights south with a NOLA-beholden menu featuring a shrimp po' boy, bananas Foster and an andouille-sausage flatbread.

"Cajun-Creole is one of the most important regional cuisines in America, and more and more people are more educated about it than they've ever been," says Randy Cheramie, associate dean at Nicholls State University's John Folse Culinary Institute in Thibodaux, La.

A bulk order of Louisiana crawfish. Photo: nola.agent, Flickr

Louisiana crawfish advocates have finally discovered -- after years of unsuccessfully appealing to economic interests -- that the quickest way to consumers' hearts is actually via their (unsettled) stomachs.

The state legislature this year enacted a law requiring restaurant owners to disclose whether their crawfish is Louisiana-raised. Bill sponsor Fred H. Mills, Jr. -- a pharmacist whose district includes Breaux Bridge, better known to Cajun gourmands as the "Crawfish Capital of the World" -- credits the law's passage to a major tactical shift.

"Everyone was upset that Chinese seafood was being disguised as Louisiana seafood, but the law just never could get any legs to it," Mills says. "The difference this time was we didn't talk about commerce. We talked about public safety."

The campaign against imported crawfish, after the jump.

When does a person get charged double what everyone else is charged for eating at a buffet? When that person is 6 foot 3 and 265 pounds.

A Louisiana man and his cousin have been banned from a restaurant because they eat too much. The two men had been eating at the Manchuria Restaurant in Houma at least three times a week for about eight months. On their last visit, the waitress gave them a bill for $46.40, which is almost double what the regular price is. When they asked why they were charged that much, the waitress said "Y'all fat, and y'all eat too much" (it helps if you picture Paula Deen saying it).

Police were called, and though the restaurant changed their mind and gave them the meal free, they still banned them from the restaurant.

Red beans and rice doesn't sound like a very exciting dish, but the staple of Louisiana cuisine can actually be elegant as well as delicious, as long as you put as much care into making yours as BWJones did with his version of the dish. His recipe calls for rice, red beans, onion and a lot of spices, including sage, thyme, bay leaf, cayenne pepper, garlic, paprika and chipotle. His is topped off with crawfish, seasoned generously with Old Bay (not to be confused with Old Spice), although some would say that sausage (andouille, in particular) or ham sets the standard for the dish. The meat can be left off entirely for a less expensive or vegetarian version of the dish.

This is an easy recipe to master and an extremely versatile one. Not only can you play around with the spices, increasing and decreasing the heat, but it can work both as a side dish and as a main course.

Wow.

It has taken a long time to rebuild, but the point is that they have done it, and still are. After the devastation left behind by Hurricane Katrina, one of New Orleans' landmarks, The Commander's Palace, on the corner of Coliseum and Washington off of St. Charles in New Orleans' upscale Garden District, will be re-opening this weekend. Sunday, October 1 will be service of their first brunch since being hit by Katrina in August of last year.

[via: Blogging New Orleans]

Actually, according to The Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries, nutria is a red meat, but it supposedly tastes like rabbit or dark meat turkey. More than a little confusing, I know. What is clear is that Louisiana has a surplus of these 20 pound South American swamp rodents, which the LDWF kindly dubs "fur bearing herbivores." As some of you may know, Louisiana has, for several years, had a campaign going to try to cut down on the population (the nutria population, that is) by convincing people to eat to eat these critters, which were originally brought in for their fur, but then escaped and wreaked havoc on the local greenery. Also known as coypu, the nutria is apparently also a host for a type of nematode that can infect human skin and cause 'nutria itch,' according to Wikipedia. Nevertheless, the LDWF has plenty of recipes for the little guys, the names of which are too good not to mention: there's Heart Healthy 'Crock-Pot' Nutria, nutria sausage, nutria chili, "Stuffed Nutria Hindquarters," and "Enola's Smothered Nutria." The site also has over 20 photos of how to butcher a nutria, but we don't need to get into that right now.

If you’re not familiar with New Orleans food terms, Mardi Gras can be a confusing time because their cuisine is in the spotlight. We’ve covered King Cake and Jambalaya, but there are so many others. NewOrleansRestaurants.com has put together a list of the local lingo, complete with definitions of anything you might encounter when dining down in the Big Easy. The pronunciation guide is especially helpful to anyone who will be traveling through the area. Examples include:

• Beignet (ben yay') - Lighter than a doughnut, and square (no holes), sprinkled with powdered sugar
• Crawfish (craw' fish) - Fresh water shellfish, also known as "mudbugs" from the bayous!
• Muffuletta (Muf' a lotta) - And a lotta it is! Super-large, round, fat sandwich filled with salami-type meats, mozzarella cheese, pickles, and olive salad.
• Praline (Praw leen') Brown sugar, pecan-filled, candy patty.

And if you’re looking for non-food terms that might help you out on your travels, ExperienceNewOrleans.com has plenty, and you’ll soon know your bayous from your Boogalees.

Searching for a way to honor some of the culinary heritage of Louisiana in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, my eye was immediately drawn to one of my large collection of Saveur magazines. It was issue #49 (March 2001), cover story: "Louisiana's Secret Cuisine." The colorfully-illustrated article told the tale of the Isleños people, "Louisiana's largest Spanish-based culture," two-centuries-old immigrants from the Canary Islands.