Cajun Cuisine and More Volume 1 - Great Recipes, Inspiring Stories and Cajun Humor (PDFDrive)

Copyright
Copyright 2012
by Paul Raphael and D&M Publishing
Author and Chef Paul Raphael's website:

www.Paul-Raphael.com
Published by D&M Publishing

www.D-MPublishing.com
All rights reserved. This eCookbook is protected by the copyright laws of the
United States of America. This book may not be copied or reprinted for
commercial gain or profit. Recipe copying or printing for personal use is
permitted and encouraged.
Cover photo and some of the recipe photos were contributed by Mike Pabst
Photography, Tyler, Texas.
Other Photos: The author contributed most of the recipe photos. D-M
Publishing also contributed other photos to complete the project.
D-M Publishing: We used our full suite of publishing services in the creation
of this eCookbook: Cover Design, Formatting, Editing, Proof Reading, Photo
Editing, HTML Conversion for Kindle Upload, Kindle Listing Enhancement,
Author's Website and Advanced Search Engine Optimization for the Entire
Project.
All photos and cover art are copyrighted by Paul L. Raphael and D-M
Publishing.
Cajun Cuisine and More Volume 1, Kindle eBook

ISBN 978-0-9857052-0-6
Introduction
The author's interest in native cuisines is one of hands-on discovery. Born to

Louisiana's unique natural resources, he was reared among the savory gumbos
and jambalayas of Creole and Cajun kitchens. And as an adult, he circled the
globe, taking from varied cultures the arts of their ancient hearths.
This versatile cookbook and the other cookbooks in this series that will
follow, are a handy addition to the well-rounded repertoire of the modern cook.
Whether for family, for friends, or for a memorable departure from the
predictable, one may choose among appetizers, sauces, sides, entrees and
desserts; many of which were included for the more discriminating to assemble
as courses.
But this is much more than a manual for Cajun cuisine; it is a collection of
Cajun humor, an assortment of native history, an inspiring variety of bedtime
stories, and a dash of colorful lives and unique events thrown in for seasoning. In
short, it's an aid to the kitchen, amenable to the recliner, informative to the
curious, and comforting to the suffering insomniac.
The reader will find the Table of Contents immediately helpful: all the recipes
are featured in their own category to set them apart from dissimilar content. And
many recipes relate, by inference, to others that use like ingredients - the cook's
aid for economy.
And, as any good art form demands, this series of Cajun cookbooks is a work
in progress, awaiting the readers' critiques and valued suggestions.
You are reading from volume 1 of this cookbook series. You can preview the
Sampler Edition of Cajun Cuisine and More by clicking here.
Please visit our website at www.Paul-Raphael.com

Prologue
Louisiana cuisine is exquisitely unique - much loved, seldom surpassed - the

result of an historic melding of cultures, traditions, and a vast array of
unparalleled natural resources: crabs, shrimp, oysters, flounder, red snapper, and
many other meats, seafood and vegetables native to its productive lands and
waters.
The early colonists - known as Creoles - came from France in the early
1700's, bringing their customs and language with them. They were followed by
settlers from Spain, Germany, Italy, Africa and Great Britain.
The Creoles, who first settled near the present Mobile, and then later near the
future New Orleans, came from the wealthiest families of France, as well as
other European cultural centers. The Creole ladies endeavored to modify their
homeland cuisines to the resources available in the local swamplands and coastal
waters, but these native resources differed from many of the ingredients needed
to concoct the delicately seasoned dishes and delectably light sauces of their
Motherlands.
Fearing conflict, if the colony's French soldiers fraternized with the local
Indians, Governor Bienville arranged for the transport of twenty-four unmarried
French ladies to the colony. Discontented, the ladies demanded Governor
Bienville to somehow make available the supplies they needed for the foods they
remembered from home...or, they would leave. In response, the Governor
persuaded his own housekeeper to address their discontent - whereupon, she
founded what may well have been the New World's first culinary institute.
Teaching the ladies cooking secrets she had learned from the local Indians, they
soon began employing the regional vegetables, seafood and spices, applying
their European culinary skills in the preparation.
While the Creoles were establishing New Orleans, the Acadians, or Cajuns as
they came to be called, began settling the swamps and bayous to the south and
west of the city. Migrating from Canada, they were a hardier group, adapting
quickly to their new environment. The cuisine of the Creole and Cajun, though
employing mutually available ingredients, differed somewhat due to the
diversity of their heritage: the aristocratic Creoles often enjoying seven or more
courses, the selections reminiscent of dishes from Europe; while the Cajuns,
living close to the land, relied on meals consisting of whatever they could cook
in one pot. Over two centuries, the two styles have slowly merged, including
influences from other immigrating cultures. As an example, one may enjoy, in a
New Orleans eatery, an appetizer of oysters Bienville and an entrée of jambalaya
- the appetizer Creole, the entrée Cajun. Today, the two styles are interrelated by
generations of cultural coexistence and the commonality of local ingredients.
Many Louisiana foods are unequivocally of Creole and Cajun origin and their
incorporation from other immigrants: okra, for example, a vegetable introduced
with slaves from Africa. In fact, "gumbo" was the African word for okra, and
when okra gained popularity as a natural thickener for the Cajun stews, the stews
became known as gumbo. When okra was out of season, cooks resorted to the
native Choctaw use of ground, dried sassafras leaves, otherwise known as
gumbo filé, a product still employed as an alternative to okra. The roux of a
gumbo came about by the amalgamation of original French sauces by both
Creole and Cajun cooks. In France, roux was a combination of butter and flour,
but along with many other adaptations, the settlers began making roux with lard,
due to a scarcity of dairy products. Today, more often than not, a Cajun recipe
will begin with a roux.
French cuisine is considered the primary influence in Louisiana dishes, but

honorable mention should also be given the Spanish for developing the spicy
nature of most Cajun and Creole dishes with the introduction of red pepper.
While French bouillabaisse was the precursor of gumbo, Spanish paella
developed into jambalaya. German settlers brought with them the art of sausage
making, but that art includes French and Italian immigrants as well, such
renderings as andouille, boudin and tasso among the many variations in
Creole/Cajun cuisine. Today, we credit all of these sources for the expansive
evolution of Louisiana's world renowned cuisine.
Louisiana, as it appeared in 1856

Reviews
A most unique and delightful book. Full of short stories to warm the heart and
recipes to satisfy the most discriminating tastes. Mouth-watering photos make it
impossible not to hurry to the kitchen to get started!
M. E. P. , Southwest Louisiana, Wife, Mother, Business Owner
Clever, captivating, delicious...three words that describe this fantastic story

book of recipes! Technically this is a cookbook, but in reality it is a unique book
of recipes brought to life through stories laced with rich Louisiana history; using
romance as the spice, sweetened with humor, sautéed in home spun settings and
enriched with spiritual leaven.
This is a must read for those who delight in cooking. From Seafood Gumbo to
French Bread Pudding with Whisky Sauce, this book of recipes covers it all in
great detail, but don't forget the most important ingredient. Once the cake or pie
is in the oven or the étouffée is simmering on the stove, take the time to settle in
to your favorite chair and read the accompanying story. It is sure to make your
dish more delicious than ever.
Bon Appetit! - Prebble B. - Orlando, Florida area
Wife, Mother, Artist, Designer, Business Owner, Television Actress
Cajun Cooking at its Finest
Wow. I have been around the south Louisiana cooking scene for 35 years now
and this is by far the best book I have found on the market. The recipies are a
unique take on a classic cultures cuisine. The humor alone was enough to keep
me enthralled. 6 stars
By J-RoD
This review is from: Cajun Cuisine and More Sampler: Great Recipes, Inspiring
Stories and Cajun Humor (Kindle Edition)
A cookbook with stories? Wonderfully unique!

In reading through this cookbook, I not only found mouthwatering recipes (a few
I have tried already with great success)such as the most delicious Dirty Rice I
have ever had...and the Concord Cake...Lordy, but dat was GOOD! I was most
fascinated with the stories. Some were humorous and some tugged at my heart,
but each story was uniquely tied to a recipe. This is a book that will make a great
gift and I can't wait to share it!
By Warren Bonett
This review is from: Cajun Cuisine and More Sampler: Great Recipes, Inspiring
Stories and Cajun Humor (Kindle Edition)
Publisher's Notes
One of the highlights of being a publisher is the great writers that we have the
privilege of working with. Paul Raphael is one of those rare and gifted writers.
He is not only a very creative writer, but he is also a talented chef. This
combination has allowed us to work together to create a unique and
extraordinary eCookbook. We are confident that you will enjoy using and
reading volume 1 of Cajun Cuisine and More as much as we enjoyed creating it.
The volume 1 contains 54 great Cajun recipes with accompanying photos and
complete step by step instructions. It also contains history and facts about
Louisiana and New Orleans. Additionally, there are inspiring stories with
connections to a specific recipe. Great Cajun humor is scattered throughout, and
you will find over 60 beautiful photos of the recipes as well as native points of
interest. We made it very easy to find what you are looking for by using the
Table of Contents (TOC). The TOC has clickable links to each recipe and each
category of recipes. We also linked all of the Inspiring Stories and Articles of
Interest to enhance your enjoyment. Cajun Cuisine and More was created for
your culinary delight, your enlightenment and entertainment.
The Sampler Edition is a true cross section of the full version of volume 1 of
Cajun Cuisine and More. The Sampler contains 11 great Cajun recipes with
accompanying photos and complete step by step instructions. Interspersed with
Cajun humor, native history, and facts about New Orleans and Louisiana, as well
as several representative stories relating to recipes, it is sure to whet your
appetite for more.
Free preview of the Sampler Edition of Cajun Cuisine and More

by clicking here.
Copyright Introduction Prologue
Reviews Publisher's Notes
Cajun Appetizers & Snacks
Cajun Side Dishes
Sauces, Stocks, Spices, Stuffing, Etc.
Cajun Gumbos, Stews & Boils
Cajun Entrées
Cajun Breakfast Dishes
Cajun Desserts
Inspiring Stories
Articles of Interest
NOTE: Click on Category Heading to
jump to that Recipe Category.
Beignets & Café au lait
Maque Choux with Crawfish Tails
Oysters Bienville
Southern Cornbread
Cornbread and Milk
Quick Shrimp Appetizer
Bayou Banana Bread
Cajun Crab Cakes
Fried Alligator
Shrimp and Corn Chowder
Stuffed Crabs
Cajun Deviled Eggs
Cajun Dirty Rice
Louisiana Sweet Potato Casserole
Cajun Fried Okra
Cajun Potato Salad
Three Cheese Grits

Cajun Shrimp Stock
Absinthe Recipe
Cajun Cornbread Stuffing
Remoulade Sauce
Sauce Piquant
Cajun Seasoning Recipe
Cocktail Sauce
Mother Sauces Article
Roux Sauces
Shrimp and Okra Gumbos
Oyster Stew
Stove Top Crawfish Boil

N‘awlins Red Beans and Rice
Cajun Shrimp Étouffée
Cajun Crawfish Quiche
Sauce Piquant with Fish
Savory Baby Vidalia Onion Tart
Shrimp and Andouilee Jambalaya
Cajun Fried Shrimp
Smothered Pork Chops
Shrimp Creole
Fried Catfish Filets
Creole Red Snapper
Blackened Catfish
Fried Crawfish Po‘Boy
Cajun Shrimp Fettuccini

Cajun Grits with Shrimp and Bacon
Cajun Rice and Eggs
Bayou Banana Bread
Three Cheese Grits

French Bread Pudding
Pecan Pralines
Sweet Potato-Molasses Pie
Bayou Banana Bread
Peach Ice Cream
Peach Cobbler
Italian Cream Cake
Pecan Sandies
Gingerbread with Whipped Cream
Millionaire Pie
Bananas Foster
Pecan Pie
A Glass of Milk
Bread of Belief
Dreams
Faith, Hope, Love...these three...
Cajun Fishing Story
Commandment Cornbread
A Claim to Fame
Miracle Gumbo
Red Beans and Ricely Yours
Love Étouffée
A Bicycle Built for Two
The Anniversary
Candles for Charles
Swan Song?
Mr. Lost and Mr. Found

Providential Pudding
Peace Pralines
Hand Churned Peach Ice Cream
Concord Cake
The Compassionate Judge

St. Louis Cathedral and Jackson Square
Observations of a New Orleans Native
Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville
New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival
Cities of the Dead
Opelousas, Home to Jam and Yam
Mother Sauces
Marie LeVeau, Voodoo Priestess
Crowley International Rice Festival
The Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival
Acadiana and Avery Island
New Orleans Garden District
Louisiana Hayride
The Sallier Oak
Origin of the Po’Boy

You Are My Sunshine
Senator Dudley J. LeBlanc
Hadacol a National Nostrum
Louisiana Peaches
Baton Rouge
Origin of Gingerbread
Origin of Bananas Foster
One Liners
Cajun Humor can be found throughout this cookbook.

Recipe Category
Oysters Bienville
Southern Cornbread
Cornbread and Milk
Bayou Banana Bread
Cajun Crab Cakes
Fried Alligator
Stuffed Crabs
Founded in 1718, by Sieur de Bienville, New Orleans was originally nothing

more than a trading camp on a curve in the Mississippi. Later, the settlement was
organized into a fortified community, which exists today as the French Quarter,
or the Vieux Carre (the Old Square).
Named for French royalty and nobility, the streets of the Quarter still honor
its history. Canal Street was once billed as the widest street in the world: named
for a canal that was to be dug in the median, but never accomplished. Today, the
total length of canals in New Orleans exceeds that of Venice.
As the settlement expanded, it followed the curve in the Mississippi, the
resultant shape gaining it the title, "the Crescent City." Established as the capitol
of the French colony, it was twice the capital of Louisiana: moved from New
Orleans, in 1825, to Donaldsonville, in 1846, to Baton Rouge, in 1864, back to
New Orleans, and in 1879, once again to Baton Rouge.
In greater New Orleans, there are countless historic buildings, cemeteries,

gardens, museums, heritage attractions and ethnic restaurants; but within the
Quarter, a few rank paramount, among them, St. Louis Cathedral and Jackson
Square.
Also known as the Basilica of St. Louis, King of France, the St Louis
Cathedral is the seat of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of New Orleans. It has
the distinction of being the oldest continuously operating cathedral in the United
States, its first structure dating from 1718. It is located next to Jackson Square
and faces the Mississippi river.
For more than fifty years, painters and portrait artists have been working and
displaying their art on the iron fence that encloses Jackson Square. This colony
of artists is the spontaneous outgrowth of a thriving tourist economy in the
French Quarter. Although some records suggest that artists sold their work from
the fence as far back as the late 1800's, the current custom dates from the end of
World War II. The present colony started nearby in Pirate Alley, and has since
occupied the sidewalk that defines the perimeter of Jackson Square. At times,
Jackson Square has seen more than three hundred artists take up every section of
fence, much of Pirate Alley, and the Cathedral fence on Royal Street.
By 1970, the City ruled that the area around Jackson Square should be a
pedestrian mall, and the streets were closed off to motorized traffic. Replacing
the streets and sidewalks with a flagstone surface, from the fence to the
surrounding buildings, artists and visitors were no longer crowded into the space
of a narrow sidewalk. New Orleans residents patronize the square, bringing their
children or grandchildren for a portrait, or to find a painting for their homes or
offices. Tourists visit the Square, as well, to purchase souvenirs, to stand and
watch the artists at work, or just to admire the colorful array of creativity on
display. Of note is the appetizing aroma, perpetually wafting over the square,
from another famous landmark nearby, Café du Monde, the respite where
residents and tourists alike gather to savor a sugar-dusted plate of fresh beignets
and a strong, steaming cup of café au lait.
The French Quarter is certainly a not-to-be-missed attraction, a kind of living

museum of Old World architecture, historic sites, Cajun and Creole foods, and a
plethora of music, shopping and hotels. A rare place indeed, where visitors can
park the family car, check in to a period-furnished hotel, then literally walk to
the enjoyment of myriad discoveries.
Beignets and Café au lait
Beignet Recipe
The word beignet (pronounced bey-YAY) comes from the Celtic word bigne,
which means "to raise". Beignet is also the French word for "fritter." Beignets
are raised pieces of yeast dough, usually about two inches square. After being
fried, they are traditionally sprinkled with confectioner's sugar. Although a New
Orleans staple, beignets have been associated with Mardi Gras in France since as
early as the sixteenth century.
Ingredients:
1 ½ cups warm water (110° to 115° F)

½ cup granulated sugar
1 envelope active dry yeast
2 large eggs
1 tsp salt
1 cup evaporated milk
7 cups bread flour
¼ cup vegetable shortening
1 quart vegetable oil for deep-frying
2 ½ cups confectioner's sugar
Instructions:
In a large bowl, mix warm water, granulated sugar and yeast. Set aside for about
ten minutes.
In another bowl, beat together the eggs, salt and evaporated milk.
Stir into the yeast mixture. Add one half of the bread flour and stir to combine.
Fold in the shortening and remaining flour.
Remove dough from bowl and place on lightly floured surface to knead.
Knead until well mixed and smooth.

Place dough in a large bowl that has been dusted with flour.
Cover with a clean, damp dish towel and place in a warm place for at least two
hours (to allow yeast to rise).
Preheat vegetable oil to 350° F (use deep fryer, if available).
Pour confectioner's sugar into paper or plastic bag. Set aside.
Roll dough out, on lightly floured surface, to a thickness of about ¼".
Cut into 1½" squares and drop into oil, flipping periodically, frying until
beignets are a golden brown.
(If beignets do not pop up, oil is not hot enough.)
Drain on paper towels, then place into bag containing confectioner's sugar.
Holding bag closed, toss beignets to coat with sugar.
Serve immediately.
Note: Although traditionally served with Café au lait, strong, black coffee is a
suitable option.
Café au lait
Pronounced: kah-fey oh lay, it is the beignet's dearest companion.
Café au lait is the French variation on the Italian drink, Caffé Latte. In French,
lait means milk, and it's the milk flavor that is dominant in a good cup of Café au
lait. The drink is comparatively simple to make:
Using a ratio of 1 to 1, if mixing with regular coffee, or 2 to 1, if mixing with

espresso, warm milk until hot, but not boiling, then stir into hot, black coffee or
espresso.
Sugar may be added, if a sweet drink is preferred.

Goin' De Wrong Way
One day Hebert was driving on the interstate when he heard an urgent
announcement on his radio:
"Beware all travelers on interstate 10. A pickup is going the wrong way between
exits 35 and 41. The state police are headed that way now."
Mais, dey in for a surprise, Hebert thought, dodging traffic left and right, der's
dozens of 'em goin' de wrong way!
Maque Choux
With Crawfish Tails
Yield: 4 servings
Maque choux - pronounced: mock shoe - is a frequently served traditional dish

in Acadiana. Believed to be an amalgam of Cajun and American Indian foods,
the name is probably derived from the Cajun interpretation of the Indian name.
The dish is usually served as a side, but can also be served as an entrée, as this
recipe directs, with additions of bite-sized chicken, shrimp or crawfish.
Ingredients:
3 tbsp unsalted butter

1 cup chopped onions
½ cup chopped red bell pepper
½ cup chopped celery
1 ½ tsp minced garlic
4 tsp Cajun Seasoning, divided
4 cups fresh sweet corn kernels
1 ½ cup Cajun Shrimp Stock or chicken stock, divided
½ lb cooked crawfish tails
¾ cup heavy cream
4 cups steamed rice for serving
Chopped chives and diced tomatoes for garnish
Instructions:
In a large skillet, melt butter over medium-high heat.

Add onions, bell pepper and celery. Cook 3 minutes, stirring often.
Add garlic and 2 tsp Cajun seasoning. Cook 1 minute, stirring.
Add corn kernels.
Cook 4 to 5 minutes, stirring often, until corn turns golden.
Add ½ of the stock.
Cook 3 minutes, or until almost evaporated.
Add the remaining stock.
Cook 2 minutes, or until almost evaporated.
Add the crawfish and 2 tsp Cajun Spice.
Cook 1 minute, stirring.

Add heavy cream.
Bring to a boil and cook, stirring occasionally, 4 minutes, or until sauce is

thickened.
Remove from heat and serve over steamed rice.
Garnish with chopped chives and diced tomatoes.

Observations of a New Orleans Native:
No one worries about calories here. Fried Batter is actually a menu item.
Most streets are impossible to pronounce...unless you're a Cajun.
If the levee gives way, everyone will die; but no one seems worried.
There are 365 days in the year and 414 parties or festivals.
The West Bank is actually east of the city. (It would take too long to explain!)
If this is all true, why does no one leave?

Oysters Bienville
Yield: 4 servings of 6 oysters
Ingredients:
24 oysters in the shell

Enough rock salt to line four shallow pans
½ cup chopped green onions
1 tbsp minced garlic
3 tbsp butter
1/3 cup flour
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp white pepper
¼ tsp red pepper
1 cup Cajun Shrimp Stock
½ cup heavy cream
3 egg yokes, beaten
½ lb. cooked shrimp, chopped
¾ cup finely chopped fresh mushrooms
2 tbsp dry sherry
¼ cup grated Cheddar or Parmesan cheese
3 tbsp dry bread crumbs
¼ tsp paprika
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 400° F.
Shuck oysters and wash the deep half of each shell.
Discard the shallow halves. Place oysters in deep halves and arrange shells in
rock salt, 6 to a pan.
Place a large sauté pan over medium heat and cook onions, garlic and butter for
about 5 minutes, or until onions are tender.
Stir in flour, salt, white and red peppers.
Add shrimp stock and cream, stirring until blended.
Cook until thick and bubbly, stirring often.
Reduce heat and gradually stir about one-third of the mixture into beaten egg
yolks.
Return egg mixture to pan and bring to a gentle boil. Cook about 2 minutes
more, stirring often.
Stir in shrimp, mushrooms and sherry.
Bring back to temperature, then remove from heat.
Spoon the mixture evenly over the oysters in the 24 shells.

Combine the Cheddar or Parmesan cheese, bread crumbs and paprika.
Sprinkle over the oysters and bake in oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until golden
brown and oysters begin to curl at the edges.
Serve immediately with cocktail forks.

Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville Father of New Orleans
Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville (February 23, 1680 to March 7, 1767)

was appointed governor of French Louisiana four times. Historically, he is also
known as Sieur de Bienville. As the younger brother of explorer, Pierre Le
Moyne d’Iberville, he aided in the expedition to establish the colony of
Louisiana.
The brothers ventured along the coast of what is now Mississippi and
Louisiana, and up the Mississippi River to the site of present day Baton Rouge.
Together, they established the first settlement of the Louisiana colony, Fort
Maurepas, or Old Biloxi.
Iberville appointed his younger brother Lieutenant of the new settlement,

while he returned to France. And upon hearing of Sieur de Bienville’s encounter
with the British, on an expedition up the Mississippi, he instructed him to
establish another settlement on the river, an order he dutifully accomplished in
1699.
In 1701, Sieur de Bienville ascended to the governorship of the new territory

for the first of four terms (he was governor for a total of 30 years); but by then,
only 180 settlers remained, the rest having died from malnutrition and various
diseases. On the recommendations of his brother, Governor Bienville resettled
most of the survivors in what is now Mobile, Alabama, gaining a deep water port
on nearby Dauphin Island.
Eventually, the Governor arranged for the importation of twenty-four young

French ladies, in part to keep the soldiers from fraternizing with the natives. The
ladies were lodged in the Governor’s home, and were under the care of his
housekeeper, Madame Langlois. Madame Langlois shared with the ladies her
acquired knowledge of the native produce and cooking methodology, to which
the ladies added their own skills in the French culinary arts. It is this coincidence
that most historians credit with the birth of Creole cooking.
Food Humor
A restaurant was famous for being able to prepare anything a patron might order.
A gentleman of leisure dined there frequently, and decided to test this claim.
After giving it much thought, he believed he had come up with an order that
would stump the chef.
"Have you decided, Sir?" the waiter asked pleasantly.
"Oh, have I!" the gentleman responded pompously, "I'll have an elephant ear
sandwich."
"And would you like an iced tea with that?" the waiter suggested, displaying no
distress at the order.
"Nooo," the gentleman replied, deflated by his apparent misjudgment. "Water

will do."
A moment later, the waiter was back with a sparkling tumbler of ice water. "Sir,"
he began apologetically, "I fear you have stumped the chef...we're out of those
big buns."
Fake noodle - An impasta
Sign in Café: Eat Now - Pay Waiter
Overweight is something that just snacks up on you.
This coffee taste like mud! Why shouldn't it? It was ground just moments ago.
Little cafe owned by the wife of a nuclear physicist: The Fission Chips
An irate mother stormed into the bakery and said, "I sent my son in for two
pounds of cookies this morning, but when he brought them home, I weighed
them and they came to one pound. I suggest you check your scales."
The baker regarded her for a moment, and then replied, "Ma'am, I suggest you
weigh your son."
What do you get if you divide the circumference of a pumpkin by its diameter?
Pumpkin pie!
You discard the outside and cook the inside. Then you eat the outside and
discard the inside. What did you eat? Corn on the cob.
Two things you should never eat before Breakfast: Lunch and Dinner.
What do you call cheese on someone else's plate? Nacho cheese.

Southern Cornbread
Serve with honey butter Yield: 8 servings
This recipe can be served as a side, or used for cornbread dressing (stuffing).
As a side, the addition of one small, well drained can of Mexican corn makes for
zesty and colorful servings. Regardless of use, one of the steps to a perfect
cornbread is a well greased, preheated iron skillet. This insures that the
cornbread will have a crisp, brown crust.
Ingredients:
1¼ cups all-purpose flour
¾ cup stone ground cornmeal
3 tbsp sugar
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 cup skim milk
¼ cup vegetable oil
¼ cup sour cream (not fat free)
1 egg (or two egg whites)
Serve with Honey Butter * (see below)
Instructions:
Grease a medium iron skillet with vegetable shortening, or with two tbsp oil, and
place it in the hot oven to reach cooking temperature.
In a separate bowl, stir together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder and
salt.
Using an electric mixer, blend the milk, oil, sour cream and choice of egg until
well mixed.
Fold the dry mix into the blended liquids until incorporated.
Carefully remove the hot skillet and pour the blended batter into the skillet.
Place in the oven and bake for 20 minutes, or, until the top of the cornbread is
beginning to brown (do not over bake or the cornbread will become dry).
Remove and let cool for 10 minutes before serving.
Cut into 8 slices and serve with honey butter.
*Honey Butter
Mix thoroughly 1 stick of butter (at room temperature), 3 tbsp honey, 1/8 tsp
cinnamon and dash of salt.
Chill slightly before serving.

A Glass of Milk
It was a gray and drizzling Saturday afternoon along the languid Bayou
Teche, but Frank and Julia were oblivious to the dreariness, happy just to be
together. Enchanted in front of the Birdseye maple console, the two were
dancing, arm-in-arm, to the romantic trombone of Tommy Dorsey. Lost in an
overstuffed chair, their firstborn, Frankie, looked on with the innocence of a
four-year-old, content just to be somewhere new.
Frankie had been here many times, but today was different, Julia's parents
offering the young family their home, while away for a long weekend. If only I
felt better, Frankie mused, I could go out on the porch and listen to the frogs
croaking. But he didn't feel well, and his little throat was becoming dry: "Papa,"
he asked, between tunes, "may I have a glass of milk?"
Of course, my son," Frank replied, loosing his arms from around his wife to
go look in his in-laws' kitchen...only to discover that there was no milk - the
reality of their current poverty suddenly dispelling the charm of the afternoon.
"Julia," Frank called from the kitchen, "honey, do you have enough change in
your purse for a quart of milk?"
"No," she answered, following him into the kitchen, "Momma must not have
noticed, or she would have bought-"
"Don't say anymore," Frank interrupted, nonplussed by his recent lack of

employment, "you know I've been looking for work-"
And don't you say anymore, either," Julia said hurriedly, hushing his lips with
a kiss. "God blessed us with each other, and our son, and I'm confident He'll
provide for our needs, as well."
"No milk?" little Frankie asked, joining his parents before the cold and
unsympathetic ice box, "just one little glass?"
Distraught at the lack of his own resourcefulness, Frank reached out to pull
his son to his side. "No milk," he repeated, stroking the lad's shock of unruly
curls, adding, with the suddenness of inspiration, "but-but you could ask Jesus to
give you a glass of milk!"
Julia looked at her husband in stunned surprise...and even more so as Frankie

knelt to pray: "Dear Jesus," he asked sweetly, "would you please send me a glass
of milk?" And with that, it was as though the milk had already been enjoyed, the
moment passed, the tension gone, Frankie off on another thirst - a thirst for
knowledge. "Tell me why Frogs croak, Papa, please, please," he begged, pulling
his father back to the sofa and overstuffed chairs that surrounded the Birdseye
console.
"Tell me, too," Julia quipped playfully, turning the radio off and joining her
husband and son on the sofa.
"Well, if you really must know," Frank began, giving Julia a knowing wink,
"it's the papa frog that makes all the noise. He croaks to attract the mama
frog...'cause the mama frog thinks it's romantic!"
"Is that true?" Julia asked, apparently enjoying the family time as much as
Frankie...and forgetting the lack of milk in the pleasure.
"It's true, Mama, or Papa wouldn't have told us," Frankie asserted, his faith
still simple and large in his untried world...as several hurried raps summoned
them all to the door. Stepping briskly, Julia reached the front door first, opening
it quickly to allow entrance from the now pouring rain.
"We're leaving for a little vacation," a neighbor explained, wiping the rain
from his eyes and extending a quart of milk for Julia to take. "Your mother told
us you folks would be here, and my wife and I thought you might be able to use
this...it would be spoiled by the time we return."
"Thank...th-thank you," was all Julia could manage, a strange reverence in her
quiet tone as she stared at the rectangular glass jug - Frank stepping forward to
extend his hand for an awkward shake as the neighbor turned to leave.
"Let's all have some milk, Mama," Frankie suggested, tugging his papa back
towards the kitchen. "And thank you, Jesus, for always hearing our prayers."
And He does, a rapturous Julia conceded to herself, if only we could learn to

accept His offered help with the simple faith of a child!
"Oh, and cornbread, too!" Frankie went on excitedly, "Grandma's cornbread

is in a covered pan on the table...we can have cornbread and milk!"
"Why not...seems like the perfect celebration before starting a new job,"
Frank said approvingly, a new light in his eyes - one Julia knew would find its
mark come Monday.
Cornbread and Milk
Cornbread and milk has been a traditional southern snack for at least two
centuries. Sam Rayburn, speaker of the US House of Representatives for
seventeen years, considered it one of his favorite dishes. And many southerners
consume it with weekly regularity. It is a quick and simple treat to prepare,
assuming the cornbread is readily available. Some prefer buttermilk, others
whole milk. Some add pepper, some add sugar. Below, we include the widely
accepted mix of crumbled cornbread, sugar and cold whole milk.
Crumble cornbread into a large glass to about three-fourths full. Top with one
teaspoon of sugar, and pour cold whole milk over the contents, filling the glass.
Enjoy with a long-handled spoon, such as an ice tea spoon. Beware, it may
become a habit!
Boudreaux and Thibodeaux
Assorted Cajun Humor
Boudreaux's cousin, visiting from Alabama, decided to wash his favorite

sweatshirt. Stepping into the laundry room, his cousin called back loudly:
"What setting do I use on the washing machine?"
"Depends," Boudreaux replied, cagily, "wat it say on de shirt?"
"University of Alabama," his cousin yelled back.
An avid fan of Louisiana State University, Boudreaux yelled:
"Hot water...six cups bleach!" then whispering, as a mischievous grin spread

across his face, "Go Tigers!"
Thibodeaux was riding past Boudreaux's place and saw him standing out in his
cow pasture. Thibodeaux pulled over, got out of his pick-um-up truck, and found
Boudreaux still standing in the same spot, not moving.
"Boudreaux, what you doin'?" Thibodeaux shouted across the field.
"Tryin ta win de Nobel Prize, my fren," Boudreaux called back.
"How ya gonna do dat?" Thibodeaux cried.
"De TV man says all ya gotta do is be out standin' in yo field!" Boudreaux

explained.
Boudreaux's wife, Clotille, came into their house, announcing excitedly, "Yo
sister-in-law jist had twins - a girl an' a boy!"
"Wad she name de girl?" Boudreaux asked.
"Denice," Clotille replied.
"An de boy?" queried Boudreaux.
"Denephew," answered Clotille.

Serve with French Bread
Ingredients:
1 lb butter
3 cloves garlic, minced
¼ cup Worcestershire
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp Tabasco
2 tbsp ground peppercorns
2 tsp kosher salt
2 bay leaves
5 pounds medium unpeeled shrimp
3 small or 2 large lemons, thinly sliced
Fresh baked French bread
Instructions:
In large stockpot, melt butter with minced garlic.
Let simmer for 3 minutes.

Add all other ingredients, except shrimp and lemon slices, and simmer an
additional 6 minutes.
Add shrimp and simmer, covered, until shrimp or firm and pink (over cooking
will toughen shrimp).
Remove bay leaves, and divide contents into bowls or plates.
Top with lemon slices and serve with French bread.

Bread of Belief
Adapted from the author's novel, Lord Byron's Ring
Nestling amiably within reach of an apprehensive hand smiled the pillow-

worn face of a teddy bear, happy in its duty of bartering sleep for a little girl's
innocent trust. Her champion in a forest of fancy, he was guide through her
kingdom of dreams; her father, as keeper of keys, unlatching by stories the
magical gate to the realm of their fictional scenes.
And tonight was of a charming hue, save a new little creature of scheme: a
frog that was silver, but wished to be green, leaping madly in search of his due.
Through fronds with dew dripping, and on lily pads perching, the froggy felt
frightened by all - by all, and himself, until meeting a goldfish who answered
him well at his call:
Tis good to be different, the little one learned, so the mother of Nature
ordains; for if all were the same, there could be no adventure, no wishing, no
trying, no gains.
But in sleep she was plying, her little heart trying, to find what the froggy
might need; and fright had there caught her, while slipping in water, forgetting
the moral to heed.
Papa! She sobbed, Papa! Papa! To awaken in trustworthy arms; for it was
there he had shown her a rock for her refuge, a shelter for times yet to be. Asked
if frogs could be silver, or fish could be gold, he had answered her very
forthrightly:
If, little one, you believe...then no explanation is needed. If not...then no

explanation will do.
And Teddy, knowing well what her choice had to be, reached out for the
small hand expected, his smile stretching wider, his cheeks feeling softer, with
each little hug he accepted.
As wafting from the warmth of the kitchen below came aromas of forgotten
cares: banana bread baking, belief in the making...and the patter of feet on the
stairs.
Bayou Banana Bread
Bread of Belief
Ingredients:
4 sticks butter at room temperature

1 ½ cups sugar
½ cup light brown sugar
6 over-ripe bananas
4 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
2½ cups cake flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
½ teaspoon nutmeg
½ cup finely chopped dates
½ cup chopped walnuts
½ cup chopped pecans
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350° F. Spray two loaf pans.
Using an electric mixer, cream butter and sugars until light and fluffy.
Add mashed bananas, eggs and vanilla.
Stir in all remaining ingredients, except nuts, using mixer sparingly.
Stir in nuts and divide batter evenly between two loaf pans.
Bake for 50 minutes, or until a knife inserted in center comes out clean.
Serve warm or cold. Store covered in refrigerator.

Vanishing Ice Cubes
Boudreaux came home one day to find his wife, Marie, in tears. "Mais, Cher,
wad de matter?" he asked, with genuine concern.
Through her tears, Marie tried to explain: "I was takin' de last of de ice cubes
from de freezer to make ya some tea, an' I dropped dem on de floor. So, I picked
dem up careful like, an' rinsed dem off in hot water, an' now I can't find em!"
Cajun Crab Cakes
Ingredients:

1 cup finely chopped onion
½ cup finely chopped celery stalk
½ cup finely chopped red bell pepper
1 lb. lump crabmeat, shells or cartilage removed
3 tbsp finely chopped fresh parsley
3 tbsp Dijon mustard
4 tbsp fresh lemon juice
½ tsp salt
½ cup real mayonnaise
¼ tsp black pepper
¼ tsp cayenne
½ tbsp Worcestershire sauce
½ tbsp Tabasco sauce
1 ½ tbsp minced garlic
1 ¼ cups unseasoned bread crumbs
1/3 cup flour
¼ cup grated Parmesan cheese
¼ cup chopped chives
Cajun Seasoning , to taste
2 eggs
1 tbsp water
1/3 cup vegetable oil
Instructions:
In a small sauté pan, melt butter over medium heat.
Add the onions, celery, bell pepper, salt, cayenne and black pepper and continue
to sauté for 4 minutes, stirring often.
Add the garlic and sauté and sauté another 3 minutes, stirring often. Remove
from heat.
In a mixing bowl, combine the crabmeat, chives, Parmesan, parsley, mustard and
lemon juice.
In another bowl, combine the mayonnaise, Worcestershire Sauce and Tabasco

sauce.
Combine the sautéed vegetables with crab mixture.
Stir in the mayonnaise mixture and½ of the bread crumbs.
Make 8 equal portions from the crab mixture and hand-form into round cakes
approximately 1" thick.
In a shallow bowl, combine the flour and season with Cajun seasoning.
In another bowl, whisk the water and eggs together.

Pour the remaining bread crumbs into another bowl, and season with Cajun
seasoning.
Arrange the three bowls thusly: (1) seasoned flour (2) egg-wash (3) seasoned
bread crumbs.
Dredge the crab cakes in seasoned flour, tapping them to remove excess flour,
then dip in egg-wash, allowing any excess to drip off, then dredge the cakes in
the seasoned bread crumbs, making sure all surfaces are covered evenly.
Heat the vegetable oil in a large sauté pan.
Depending on the sauté pan's capacity, place from 2 to 4 crab cakes at a time in
the hot oil, and fry over medium-high heat until lightly golden, turning each crab
cake to evenly brown both sides.
Drain crab cakes on paper towels before serving.
Garnish with prepared Hollandaise or tarter sauce, Cajun seasoning and chopped
green onions.
Extra Insurance Money
Boudreaux took a vacation to Hawaii, spoiling himself at a four-star hotel.

Relaxing by the pool, a man took a lounge chair next to him, prompting the ever
garrulous Boudreaux to start a conversation.
"Hey, how ya doing? My name's Boudreaux and I'm here on vacation. My

house caught itself on fire an' I got a little extra from de insurance company,
don't ya know."
"Well, isn't that a coincidence," responded the stranger. "I'm here from
Mississippi, and my house flooded. I, too, used the extra insurance money for
this vacation."
"Mais, dats good," said Boudreaux, "but let me axe you one ting: how de
heck ya start a flood?"
Fried Alligator
Yield: 4 servings
Traditionally served as an appetizer
Ingredients:
1 lb alligator meat (preferably not from tail or leg), cut into 1" pieces
(If alligator is unavailable, cubed, fresh chicken breast may be substituted)
2 cups Italian dressing
2 cups vegetable oil
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 tbsp Cajun Seasoning
Flour for dredging
1 cup hot sauce (Louisiana or Tabasco recommended)
1 cup Bulgarian buttermilk
Instructions:
In a large bowl, submerge alligator pieces in Italian dressing and cover.
Place in refrigerator for at least 2 hours.
In a large frying pan, heat oil to 350° F.
Remove alligator from refrigerator and drain on paper towels.
Season with salt and pepper.
Pour flour into a shallow bowl and mix with Cajun seasoning.
Mix hot sauce and buttermilk in a separate shallow bowl.
Dredge alligator pieces in flour, then dip in buttermilk and hot sauce mix, then
dredge in flour a second time.
Place coated pieces in hot oil and fry until golden brown - approximately 2
minutes.
Drain on fresh paper towels.

(Do not overload frying pan. Depending on size, it may require several batches)
Serve alligator hot with tarter sauce and or cocktail sauce.
Note:
Another excellent dip for this appetizer is spicy, garlic aioli:
Instructions:
Mix 1 cup real mayonnaise, 1 tbsp fresh minced garlic, 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice,
1 tbsp fresh chopped parsley and ½ tsp Cajun seasoning.
Dreams
Sailing swiftly under great clipper clouds, the sun disappeared over a
turquoise rim, leaving dusk in its wake to muster shadows about the corners of
the kitchen - a changing of the guard going all unnoticed as Marie, lounging
comfortably on a kitchen stool, thumped the eraser of a number two on the
island bar:
"A three-strand diamond and sapphire necklace, Myrtle...and at a cost of over

fifty thousand dollars. Wow! What a price for love!"
"Your mother-in-law didn't tell ya what it costed, did she?" the old
housekeeper asked, her question couched in a puzzled look.
"No, but I overheard her on the phone with her son today," Marie admitted
sheepishly. "I think my husband would blow a fortune just to enjoy my surprise."
"Now, Marie...ya know better'n that," Myrtle admonished, her amiable

reproof bringing a smile. "But you deserve the very best," she added quickly,
"and if the best costed that much...then so be it!"
"I agree with your opinion of my inestimable worth," Marie said playfully,
lodging the pencil over her ear, "but it's Justin I'm concerned about. For the more
he falls in love, the greater his hazard of debt." Goading her good-naturedly, it
was a form of entertainment they both enjoyed, her teasing retorts not
infrequently draped in endearments.
"Well, I don't know much bout borrowin' greenbacks from banks and such,
but I know a pot full bout borrowin' happiness from this sad ol' world," Myrtle
declared, her voice straining with her back as she bent to check a skillet of
cornbread in the oven. "There jist isn't enough to go round anymore. And when a
woman can snatch a few good years outta Father Time's hip pocket...why,
yessiree...she can count herself luckier than most."
"And have you ever felt like that, Myrtle?" Marie asked suddenly, "intensely
happy, I mean?"
"Child! I never advise...'cept from experience," she said; her disarming

humility, like her plump presence, a comforting accouterment, a kind of indirect
lighting to warm the room - for of her physical beauty there remained but a
melancholy reminder, but from her spirit there glowed an unwavering flame -
her short bulk disappearing in search of potatoes behind the pantry doors.
"Want to tell me about him?" Marie called after her.

"D'ya want my tears in your shrimp chowder?" Myrtle quipped, reentering
the kitchen to drop a ten pound bag of potatoes on the counter. "Memories can
be like clouds, ya know: they're pretty enough so long's they're a'floatin' bout the
edges of your mind; but give 'em your attention and-and fore ya know it...'fore
ya know it, they're plum full o'rain." Holding a peeler motionless against the dry
skin of an Idaho russet, she looked as though the eloquence of a thought had
startled her. "And what 'bout yourself, darlin'? Have ya never felt those funny
sinkin' feelin's in the pit o' your stomach? Or the hot rush o' your blood a'fillin'
out your veins till ya thought ya might burst from excitement?" Turning back to
the sink to peel the potato, she cagily put her back to Marie, understanding that
to look at a form without eyes allowed her an ease of response.
"I'm going to surprise you, Myrtle. I'm going to admit that I have. And more
than that," she continued, a mild abashment flushing her cheeks - the little flush
when honesty is at the heart of confession, "With Justin, I've...I've felt the rush of
the poets' inspiration."
"Poetry, did ya say?" Quiet for a while, she feigned an interest in scrubbing
the eyes off another spud. "Child, I believe ya have," she said at last, turning to
face her. "And if it was beautiful, then ya looked in the face of God - if ya know
what I mean."
"I do," she said tersely, the memory of a recent spat with Justin still a wound
in her heart.
But Myrtle's simple sincerity was healing - like peroxide in an open cut -
Marie accepting her queries as beneficial, even though she felt the sting. For all
the events of the past few days seemed like bandages now, the whole business of
her hurt over a little argument with her husband but a surrogate for something
else she would've rather lived for.
"Was it a week ago?" Myrtle asked, the rhythm of her practiced hand peeling
in long, even strokes, "...the pretty poem, I'm a'talkin' 'bout."
Frightened by the truth of her question - and even more by her own
experience - she felt chained by frailties: Myrtle letting her backstage in her life,
only to find there faults like her own. She'd been hoping for a respite, some
distraction to see her through - and now, despite all her kind intent, Myrtle was
proving that hope fragile.
"It was a week ago," she answered wistfully, "and...and a lifetime ago. But
why do you ask?"
"'Cause love has an odd way of feedin' ya its mysterious vittles till ya can't eat
ordinary food for awhile; and you've been purt near starvin' yourself up till this
mornin'." Giving her a glance that was somehow connected to her throat, she felt
it tighten when Myrtle looked at her. "I noticed even 'fore your husband did," she
added proudly.
Marie wanted to hug her, to acknowledge the poignancy of a shared inner
world; but she felt strangely old - perhaps too old - and she wondered if there
was anything left for Myrtle; if she still clung to the wreck of her hopes.
"Then...then, you knew?" she asked, less from curiosity than an infinite
sadness, "you knew, because you've tasted of this manna before?"
She washed one last potato.
"...I knew, darlin'."
And as the sun sank deep into the dark earth, Marie felt the pangs of an
aching friendship; a fellowship with abjection. Pitying Myrtle, she imagined
she'd been reduced to a kind of permanent perplexity, a bewilderment with life -
left trapped in that eerie time of morning when it's too early to get up and too
late to go back to sleep; a time for reflection: a remembered past, a feared future.
Probably, for her, it was not so much death that she minded anymore as it was
the long agony of dying.
"Does it ever go away?" She didn't know what else to say.
"Oh! Sweet Jesus!" Myrtle cried, "how did we git ourselves so lost?" It was
almost a prayer, the tears in her eye as though she were elbow-deep in Spanish
onions - Marie wondering if they were tears of despair.
But then again, she thought, there could not be despair where hope had never
thrived. She didn't know.
A southerner to the very wind-driven grit in her big gray eyes, Myrtle was far
enough removed from the blue blood of gentry that mint julep was a woman's
name. Reared in the stress of poverty, she was more accustomed to what she had
heard Marie's mother-in-law call, "an opposition atmosphere", a life that fought
back, Marie absorbing enough of her earthiness to stir up a cloud of dust when
she thought she needed a distraction. In a way, she was proud of her; Myrtle
acting as if old age was something she'd never heard of. And when she was alone
with her, in more jovial moments, she could make everything seem so natural
that pretense just blurred away - though, for the moment, she was holding herself
together with just that.
"Myrtle?' She spoke her name as a question - the kind that no matter the
answer, it was right. "Myrtle? What do you know about our little argument the
other day?"
"Hmmm," she reflected, fidgeting audibly, filling a two quart boiler with
steaming tap water, "...can't say that I know much, 'cept that Justin must be
worried sick about it."
"No more than I am," Marie muttered.
"Wha'd'ya say?" Myrtle asked, setting the potatoes to boil, "I didn't hear ya."
"I said...I said you're right. He's worried sick. In fact, that's why he's spent the
better part of his boat fund on me."
"Well! That durn speed boat would'a been too dangerous, anyway!" she
exclaimed, her natural wit chasing after a passing gloom - Myrtle eying her
lovingly, sympathetically, searching for words that could soften. "But...but we
would've all enjoyed the thrill, I 'spose." Idle now, she had no props to manage
her attention, turning to look at Marie with a motherly affection, thinking how
she had the kind of golden flecks in her alert green eyes that moonlight might
bring out. She was definitely the kind of young lady that men would notice -
good and bad.
"Myrtle, I'm going to accept his gift...let him see how much I adore it...no,
how much I adore him!" she added emphatically, getting up from the stool to
pace about the darkening kitchen. "And then I'm going to march right down to
the jewelers and demand a refund."
"But ya can't, darlin'" Myrtle said with a start, her big gray eyes widening, "at
least, I don't think ya can...can ya?" a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.
"And then I'm going to buy Justin the very boat he worked so hard to
acquire," Marie went on dreamily, her attention on things invisible to Myrtle.
"And then...yes...and then I'm going to take him away...."
"Away back in time...maybe...maybe 'bout a week ago?" Myrtle asked,

stepping forward to take Marie in her arms. "Darlin' you don't need a rope full of
sparklin' gems, or-or a shiny new speedboat to catch that kind of dream...no-sir-
ee, it's as near as two longin' hearts, sweetie...as near as two longin' and willin'
hearts, it is."
"And the joy is as though we were already there!" Marie cried, hugging
Myrtle with a gentleness that only a remembered love could feel.
Couple Laconian black-figure kylix, 590-550 BC.
"kylix" In ancient Greece, a shallow two-handled cup, often with a footed stem.
Yield: 10 servings
Ingredients:
2 tbsp vegetable oil

1 cup finely chopped onions
½ cup finely chopped carrots
½ cup finely chopped celery
1 cup finely chopped red bell peppers
3 ½ cup fresh corn kernels
¼ cup flour 6 cups Cajun Shrimp Stock, or chicken stock
2 cups cubed russet potatoes (cubed very small)
2 tsp Cajun Seasoning
1 tsp salt
1 tsp Tabasco sauce
1 tsp dried thyme
1 ½ lbs peeled / deveined med shrimp
½ cup heavy cream
3 tbsp chopped fresh chives
Chopped fresh parsley for garnish
Instructions:
Place a large pot over medium heat and add the vegetable oil.
Add the onions, carrots and celery and sauté for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add the garlic, bell peppers and corn kernels, and cook for 10 minutes, stirring
often.
Sift the flour over the vegetables mix and continue to cook for 2 minutes, stirring
constantly.
Pour the shrimp stock into the pot and stir to combine.
Add the potatoes, Cajun spice, salt, Tabasco and thyme, and bring to a boil.
Reduce to a simmer and continue to cook for 20 minutes, or until potatoes are
tender.
Add the shrimp and heavy cream, and stir to incorporate.
Continue to simmer for 8 minutes, or until the shrimp is pink through (whichever
is first).
Add the chives and adjust the seasoning to taste.
Serve in bowls, garnished with parsley.

One afternoon Boudreaux was driving with his wife, Clotille, and his mother-in-
law. Every few seconds, the two women would take turns giving him driving
instructions: "Slow down!...Watch the center line!...There's a curve
ahead!...Watch that other car!" Having enough of this, Boudreaux slammed the
brake pedal to the floorboard and pulled onto the shoulder. Turning to Clotille,
he shouted, "OK, who's drivin' here...you, or your Momma?"
It was a typical Acadian July afternoon - one hundred degrees and one hundred
percent humidity. Hot and sweating, Boudreaux came home, exhausted from a
long day of fishing...only to find Clotille painting the kitchen. Amazed,
Boudreaux stood in the doorway, observing his wife's attire, Clotille outfitted in
not one, but two heavy coats.
"Clotille," he asked, shaking his head, "Cher, dis got t'be one of de hottest day
dis year, an you be dressed like dat?"
"Mais, Boudreaux," she replied, mopping the sweat from her eyes with the
sleeve of the outer jacket, "jis look on de can der...it say for best result, put on
two coats'...so dat's wad I dun."
Boudreaux was chastening his son for his poor grades in school: "Son, when
Abe Lincoln was your age, he was studyin' all nite by de lite o'de candle."
To which his boy retorted: "Yeh? And when he was your age, he was President!"
Stuffed Crab
Yield: six appetizers

Ingredients:

½ finely chopped onion
2 tbsp finely chopped red bell pepper
2 tbsp finely chopped celery
2 bay leaves
1 lb lump crabmeat, picked over
3 tbsp finely chopped parsley leaves
4 tbsp finely chopped green onions
1 large egg, beaten
¾ cup fine bread crumbs
1/3 cup heavy cream
6 pats of butter
6 lemon wedges
Instructions:
Place six cleaned crab shells on baking sheet.
In a large skillet heat the 4 tbsp butter over medium heat.
Add the onion, bell pepper and celery. Cook 3 minutes.
Add the garlic, Cajun spice and bay leaves and cook for 2 more minutes.
Remove from heat.
Fold in the crabmeat, parsley, green onions, beaten egg, ½ cup of the bread
crumbs and the heavy cream.
Stir to combine.
Remove bay leaves.
Spoon the mixture evenly into the crab shells.
Sprinkle an equal portion of the remaining bread crumbs over the six servings
and top each with a pat of butter.
Bake for 20 minutes, or until bread crumbs are golden brown.
Serve immediately, with lemon wedges.

New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival is held on the last weekend in April
and the first weekend in May, and attracts artists and visitors from all over the
world. Among New Orleans’ many attractions, this is an event not to be missed.
An annual celebration of music and culture so exquisitely enjoyed in the
Crescent City, the festivities also feature a diversity of local vendors. Typically,
native food offerings include beignets, po’boys (of almost infinite variety),
boiled crawfish, soft-shell crabs, and many other signature dishes.
Recipe Category
Cajun Deviled Eggs
Cajun Dirty Rice
Cajun Fried Okra
Cajun Potato Salad
Three Cheese Grits

Death had come calling far too soon, his wife but twenty-nine. And though he
had not held her long - sweet love, in that tender embrace - he was forever
enticed to her pursuit. He would run to the altar of her every ideal; for family;
for friend; for her...if only because he believed:
Run true, run fleet, on Mercury's feet;

Fly fast, fly arrow straight:
For I am target, pinioned defeat,
Pierced heart at timid gate.
Set sure your sight, quit quick your quiver,

Tug taut your bending bow;
For I am chance, fleet fortune giver,
That seed but once you sow.
Be stout, be strong, be faith's own fate,

Taste boldly of desire;
For I am flash, the lightning spate,
The trial of men by fire.
Take hold, take hard, take nothing untoward,
Take all and give it more;
For I cut clean, Excalibur sword,
Of knights' Arthurian lore.
Sleep well, sleep deep, know peace in your sleep,

Know one held ever there:
For I am love - I'm your keeper's keep -
And yours for taking care.
Cajun Deviled Eggs
For appetizer or entrée sides Yield: 16 servings
Ingredients:
8 large eggs, hard boiled and peeled
4 tbsp mayonnaise
3 tbsp sweet pickle relish
1½ tsp Creole mustard
1 tsp sugar
½ tsp Tabasco
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
Paprika, for garnishing
1 tbsp fresh chopped parsley, for garnishing
Instructions:
Place eggs in a medium sauce pan and cover with cold water.
Bring to a boil over high heat, then immediately remove from heat and cover.
Let stand for 10 to 12 minutes.
Remove and peel.
Halve eggs lengthwise.
Remove yolks and place in a small bowl.
Using a fork, mash the yolks while incorporating the mayonnaise, pickle relish,
Creoloe mustard, sugar, Tabasco, salt and peppers.
Fill egg whites evenly with yolk mixture.
Garnish with paprika and store in refrigerator, covered, until serving.
Garnish with fresh chopped parsley just before serving.
Variations:
Add 2 tbsp finely chopped smoked ham or Tasso (spicy cured pork cut into
strips).
Add 2 tbsp finely sliced pimento stuffed green olives.
Cities of the Dead
Louisiana's above-ground tombs
Often referred to as, "cities of the dead", the above-ground tombs in

Louisiana's cemeteries are both intriguing and historically informative. The city
of New Orleans is home to forty-two of these eerie necropolises, the older ones
by far the more ornate and fascinating. Upon entering the gates, the visitor has
an immediate impression of a miniature city - vaults arranged in rows, like little
houses on neighborhood streets; crosses and statues, atop marbled roofs, casting
enigmatic shadows at every turn; the wrought iron fences engendering scenes
from bygone eras: the clatter and clang of cottage industry, the comforting scent
of wood burning kitchens, the laughter of children on shaded verandas, the
billowing smoke of the paddlewheel steamers slow-plying the great
Mississippi...the broad flowered hats and funereal black in solemn procession
behind the polish of a horse-drawn hearse, halting before the sun-glinted tomb of
the departed.
There is a hard-learned reason for these edifices to the dead: the elevation of
New Orleans ranges from 6½ feet below sea level, to 20 feet above sea level,
and with an annual rainfall of 62 inches (more than an inch per week), the water
table quickly fills an underground grave. Caskets will literally float, or pop out
of the ground, after a heavy rainfall. Failing their attempts to keep a good man
down, the settlers adapted the Spanish custom of entombing the departed above
ground. And excepting the occasional duress of a hurricane overflowing the
levees, the deceased, since then, have generally rested in peace.
There is another benefit to such practices. A city ordinance allows an

additional burial within the same crypt, after the previous occupant has resided
there for a minimum of two years. Upon completion of the requisite term, the
remains of the previous occupant are sealed in a burial bag and placed to the
side, or back, of the vault. The coffin is then destroyed, and the vault is made
ready for the newly deceased. If a family member dies within the two year
restriction, most cemeteries offer temporary holding vaults until the previously
deceased has fulfilled the term. And you thought death would eliminate waiting
lines!
Among the older and more weathered cemeteries are St. Louis Nos. 1, 2 and
3, their twisting paths and crumbling tombs melding the macabre milieu,
framing inscriptions in memorable auras of mystery. Voodoo queens and perilous
pirates dwell next the honorably endowed, their fugitive ghosts but a furtive
glimpse away. Several companies offer guided tours of these Cities of the Dead,
their fees well worth the experience - especially, if one reads up on the tales of
those who "live" there.
Cajun Dirty Rice
Don't be misled, it's only a name! Dirty rice isn't actually dirty, it's called that
because the chicken livers and pork sausage it's made with lend it a brown or
"dirty" color. Most common in regions of Louisiana, it's similar to rice pilaf in its
use of bell pepper, celery and onion. But when meat is added, it becomes "dirty"
rice.
Ingredients:
1 lb pork sausage
1 pound chopped chicken livers
1 cup chopped onion
½ cup chopped green bell pepper
4 cups steamed rice
1/3 cup fresh chopped parsley
1 tsp Tabasco or to taste
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Instructions:
In a large skillet, cook the pork sausage and chicken livers until browned, using
a spatula to separate both into bite-sized pieces.
Do not drain the pork fat.
Add the vegetables and sauté until soft.
Gently fold in the rice and parsley.
Season with Tabasco, salt and pepper, to taste.

Opelousas, Home to Yam and Jam Sweet Potatoes and Zydeco
The sweet potato has been something to celebrate since 1760, when the
French established the first settlement in what is now the city of Opelousas. The
indigenous Indians were already cultivating the tasty, nourishing sweet potato,
and it soon became the favorite food of the French and Spanish settlers, who
established a trading post near Opelousas. Eventually, the French, Spanish and
Acadians, who later migrated from Canada, made the "golden yam" a primary
crop.
Opelousas (located approximately 65 miles west of the capital, Baton Rouge,

and 25 miles north of Lafayette) is in the heart of Acadiana. It is here that the
Golden Yam is celebrated in an annual Yambilee Festival.
The festivities begin on the Wednesday of the last full weekend of October,
and continue throughout the weekend. And, of course, a festival would not be
complete without a parade and the election of a queen.
Despite the Festival's title, it is actually the sweet potato that the natives so
enjoy, not the yam. The true yam is the tuber of a tropical vine, and not even
distantly related to the sweet potato. Usually sweeter than the sweet potato, it
can grow to over seven feet in length. Yams are brown or black skinned,
resembling tree bark; and depending on the variety, can be red, purple, or off-
white inside.
Sweet potatoes are tubers, with tapering ends, and are yellow or orange-
skinned. The yellow-skinned sweet potato has a pale yellow flesh, which is not
sweet and has a dry texture similar to a baking potato. The darker-skinned sweet
potato (the variety most often called "yam") has a thicker, orange to reddish skin,
with an orange, sweet flesh, and a much smoother texture. When baked, this
variety is moist.
Opelousas is Louisiana's 3rd oldest city, and is the center of zydeco music, as
well. Zydeco, by definition, is usually fast tempo and played by the button
accordion, a fiddle, and a washboard known as a "rub-board". Zydeco evolved
from house dances, where Acadians gathered for good times. Zydeco is a blend
of Cajun melodies and blues, with Caribbean influences
Opelousas also has an illustrious association with the Kingfish, Huey P. Long.
During the tenure of Sheriff Cat Doucet from 1936-1940 and 1952-1968
Opelousas was considered a haven of gambling and prostitution. Rumor suggests
that Governor Earl K. Long (Huey's brother) allowed the Sheriff to permit
brothels and casinos to operate within the city, and to guarantee the sheriff a take
of the proceeds. True or not, the city has not been "catty" for many years, now!
Yield: 6 to 8 servings
Ingredients:
Pecan Topping:
1 cup light brown sugar
1/3 cup all purpose flour
1 ¼ cup pecan pieces
½ cup unsalted butter (melted)
1 cup mini marshmallows
Sweet Potato mix:

3 cups mashed sweet potatoes, baked and peeled (if using canned, drain well)
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup crushed pineapple (very well drained)
1 teaspoon good bourbon (can substitute ½ tsp vanilla)
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp cinnamon
2 large eggs, well beaten
¼ cup unsalted butter, melted
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350° F
Combine light brown sugar, flour, pecan pieces and melted butter in separate
bowl. Set aside.
Combine baked and peeled, mashed sweet potatoes (or canned), sugar,
pineapple, bourbon, salt, cinnamon, beaten eggs and melted butter.
Mix thoroughly, making certain the beaten eggs are well incorporated.
Pour mixture into buttered casserole dish and bake for 30 minutes.
Remove casserole and add the topping mix (excluding marshmallows),

spreading evenly.
Return to oven and bake an additional 10 minutes.
Remove from oven, add marshmallows, and bake until marshmallows are
melting and beginning to brown.
Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly before serving.
Note: This casserole may be assembled in advance and frozen (minus the
topping) for several weeks.
When needed, let thaw in refrigerator overnight, then set out for one hour, then
follow two-step baking instructions above.
Fishin' and Huntin'
Boudreaux and Thibodeaux were preparing to go fishing, when Boudreaux
noticed Thibodeaux holding his long cane pole upright, trying to reach the top
with a yardstick. After a moment's amusement, Boudreaux asked, "Thidodeaux,
wha-ya tryin' t'do, hey?"
"I'm tryin' t'measure my pole," an exasperated Thibodeaux replied, still

stretching upward with the yardstick.
"Lem-me had dat," Boudreaux said at last, laughing at his friend. Taking the
cane pole and yardstick, he placed the pole on the ground and measured from the
slender end down to the thicker bottom. "Fo-teen feets," he announced proudly,
"fo-teen feets long."
Agitated, Thidodeaux grabbed the yard stick and held his cane pole upright once
more. "I don' care how long de pole is," he growled, "I wanna knowed how high
it is!"
Boudreaux was going bear hunting, when he came to a fork in the road with a
sign, which read:
"BEAR LEFT"
Greatly disappointed, he turned his pick-um-up truck around and went home.
Thibodeaux was relating to Boudreaux what bad luck he'd had on his last deer
hunt. "I seen jis one deer," he said, "but he was too far in de woods."
"How big was dis deer?" Boudreaux asked, lamenting his friend's loss.
"Bout dis big," Thibodeaux replied, holding his thumb and index finger up to
illustrate a height of about two inches.
"An dats all ya seen?" Boudreaux prodded.
"Nah, dat lil deer came up closer, after a while," Thibodeaux went on.
"An how big was dis deer din?" Boudreaux asked, gaining interest.
"Mais, de deer was maybe two feets tall, din," Thibodeaux said, "an...when de
deer gots bout 75 yards from de blind, it was purt near full size."
"Dat's close, Thibodeaux," Boudreaux exclaimed, looking as though he were

about to aim his own gun at the imagined prey, "why'd ya no shoot de rascal,
hey?"
"I-I jis couldn't do it, my fren," Thibodeaux stammered, holding up his thumb
and index finger again, "I'd knowed dat lil deer since he was dis big."
Cajun Fried Okra
A Louisiana Staple Yield: 8 - 10 servings
Ingredients:
1 quart vegetable oil for frying
½ cup cornmeal
1 cup flour
1 tsp salt
½ tsp black pepper
¼ tsp garlic powder
1 tbs Cajun Seasoning
2 lbs fresh okra, sliced ½ inch thick
(substitute frozen, sliced okra, if fresh is unavailable)
1 cup Bulgarian buttermilk
Instructions:
In a large, heavy-bottomed skillet, heat oil to 350° F.
In a medium bowl, combine cornmeal, flour, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and
Cajun spice.
In batches sufficient to fill skillet with a single layer, dip sliced okra in
buttermilk, then dredge in seasoned cornmeal-flour mixture.
Coat pieces well, then carefully add to the hot oil.
Fry each batch until golden brown.
Remove from oil to drain on paper towels, placing a clean dry cloth over the
cooked batches to keep them warm.
When all batches are fried, serve immediately.

Trouble sleeping at night
Boudreaux was having trouble sleeping at night...and he knew why. Writing a
letter to the Internal Revenue Service, he explained:
Dear IRS, For da tax year 2010 I cheat on my tax and ain't been able t' sleep. Dis
here's a check for $200.00. Signed, Boudreaux.
Thinking over what he had written, and the check he'd enclosed, he added:
Mais, P.S. If I don't sleep sum good tonight, I'm sho 'nuf gonna mail ya da rest.
Cajun Potato Salad
Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients:
3 lbs red potatoes, scrubbed and cubed
¾ cup real mayonnaise
½ cup Creole mustard
2 tbsp sweet pickle relish
1 tsp paprika
1 sweet onion, finely chopped
2 stalks celery, finely chopped
1 tbsp parsley
Salt and pepper, to taste
Instructions:
Place the cubed potatoes in a large pot.
Add 2 tbsp salt and fill with cold water.
Bring to a boil and cook until they are tender.
Drain and let cool.
Stir together the Mayonnaise, mustard, relish, garlic and paprika.
When the potatoes are cool, place in a large bowl and add the onions, celery and
parsley.
Pour the Mayonnaise mixture over the potatoes and mix well.
Salt and pepper to taste.
Note: Cajuns frequently place a scoop of chilled potato salad on top of hot rice
and gumbo.
Apparently, the pleasure of a cold bite of potato salad, after a soup spoon of
steaming gumbo, is gratifying and perhaps cleansing to the palate.
As the saying goes, don't knock it till you've tried it!
Fontenot called his doctor, screaming frantically, "Doc, my wife she havin' labor
bad! De contraction, dey only two minute apart, yeh!"
"Is this her first child?" the doctor asked calmly.
"No, ye couillon, dis her husband!" (pronounced: coo-yawn - Cajun for idiot)
Thibodeaux was walking along the bayou one day when he ran into Boudreaux
carrying a burlap bag over his shoulder. "Boudreaux," he said, eyeing the bag,
"wha-ya gots in de bag, hey?"
"Chicken," Boudreaux replied, shifting the bag to his other shoulder.
"If I dun guess how many chicken ya gots in de bag, can I gits one?" Thibodeaux
asked.
"Mais, yah," said Boudreaux, "If ya guess right, I'll giv' ya bofe of 'em!"
Three Cheese Grits
Yield: 4 - 6 servings
A good "morning after" dish to use leftover portions of the cheeses required
in the recipe for Cajun Crawfish Quiche. Serve as a side dish, or as a breakfast
base for eggs.
Ingredients:
2 cups water
2 cups whole milk
1 tsp salt
1 cup grits (not instant or quick)
½ tsp black pepper
½ stick unsalted butter (4 tbsp)
¼ cup shredded medium cheddar
¼ cup shredded white cheddar
1 tbsp grated parmesan
Instructions:
In a heavy-bottomed pot, bring water, milk and salt to a rolling boil.
Gradually add the grits, whisking constantly until all of the grits have been
incorporated.
Decrease the heat to simmer and cover.
Simmer for 20 - 25 minutes, removing lid several times to whisk if there are
lumps, and, during the last few minutes of cooking time, to see if a little more
water is needed.
If so, use hot tap water and whisk in.
Remove from heat, add pepper and butter, and whisk to combine.
When butter is melted, add three cheeses and whisk until incorporated.
Serve immediately.
Recipe Category
Cajun Shrimp Stock
Absinthe Recipe
Remoulade Suace
Sauce Piquant
Cajun Seasoning Recipe
Cocktail Sauce
Roux Sauces
Cajun Fishing Story
"Beat de sunset," cracked Boudreaux, tossing his oar back into his flat-bottomed
pirogue and climbing gingerly onto the narrow wharf protruding from his stilted
house, "could'a been swattin' moustique (mosquitos) til de moon sat fat on de
boscoyo (cypress knee)."
"Where's dem big bass fish," queried his good friend, Thibodeaux, tending the
cast iron pot beginning to smoke over a butane burner.
"Why ya aks dat?" quipped Boudreaux. "... I got de wowarons (bullfrogs)."
"Wowarons!" shouted Thibodeaux, in amazement.
"Mais, yeh," retorted Boudreaux, pointing back at his pirogue. "I been fish'n all
day, an dun run outta crawlers. Dat's when I seen dis snake wif a big wowaron in
his mouf...and I knowed dem big bass fish like dem wowarons. Well, dat snake,
he be a cotton mouth water moccasin, so I hadda be real careful not to git bit."
"Wha'd ya do?" asked Thibodeaux, eagerly, helping Boudreaux extricate his bait
can from the pirogue.
"Mais, I snuk up behin' dat water moccasin snake and catched him by de head,
and den he wrap hisself roun my arm try'n to git hisself outta my hand. But I had
a real good hold, yeh."
"Den what?" Thibodeaux prompted impatiently.
"Den, I pry his mouf open and take de wowaron, an' I puts it in my bait can, dat's
what," Boudreaux said proudly.
"Den what?" Thibodeaux asked apprehensively, eyeing the pail with suspicion.
"Now, I knows dat I cain't let go or dat water moccasin's gonna bite me one
good. So, I reach in de back pocket of my overalls and pulls out my pint o'
moonshine. Then, I pours somma de likker in de snake's mouf. Well, dat snake's
eyeballs kinda roll back in his head, and his body go real limp. Wit dat, I toss dat
snake back in de swamp. But jis when I goes back to fishin', I dun feel sumpin'
tappin' on my barefoot toe. I looks down, and der's dat water moccasin wif two
more wowarons!"
Cajun Shrimp Stock
Many Cajun/Creole recipes call for a shrimp or seafood stock. This recipe is
suitable for most applications. However, should the reader desire a "seafood"
stock, the addition of rinsed crawfish shells, or rinsed crab shells, or rinsed fish
bones, will create a tasty alternative.
Note: the addition of any of these items should be balanced with a like
subtraction of rinsed shrimp shells (example: instead of 2½ lbs shrimp shells, use
1¼ lbs shrimp shells and 1¼ lbs of one of the other options).
Ingredients:
2 ½ lbs shrimp shells (include heads, if available)

2 2/3 quarts cold water
1 cup chopped onion
½ cup chopped carrots
1½ tbsp chopped garlic
½ tsp sea salt
Sachet of 2 bay leaves, 1tsp chopped parsley, ½tsp dried thyme and ½tsp
crushed peppercorns
Instructions:
Rinse shrimp shells (and heads, if available) under cold running water, then
place in a one gallon, or larger, stockpot.
Add the remaining ingredients.
Bring to a boil, and then lower to simmer.
Cook for one hour, skimming the foam from the top, as needed.
When the stock is done, strain into another container.
Any remainder, not used in the preparations at hand, may be refrigerated or

frozen for future use.
You Might be a Cajun If...
You start an angel food cake with a roux;
You have a spoon of 5 alarm chili, then reach for the Tabasco;
You think the four seasons are: Duck, Rabbit, Deer and Squirrel;
You tell your wife each morning, "I've put the rice on...so what's for dinner?"
Absinthe
("la fée verte" - the "green fairy" in French)
Ubiquitous in the French Quarter for many years, French absinthe (absinthe)
was a drink that contained a high level of alcohol (typically 120 to 140 proof).
Made famous by renowned personalities such as Vincent van Gogh, Toulouse-
Lautrec, Charles Baudelaire, Oscar Wilde, Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway and
Aleister Crowley, the drink was eventually banned for fear of the chemical
thujone, a toxin (one considered harmless enough, today, unless consumed in
large quantities), and, until recently, was not available in America. Thujone is
said to be responsible for absinthe´s mysterious effects. Herbal ingredients
include wormwood, star anise, anise seed, fennel, coriander, hyssop, angelica
root, lemon balm and licorice root. Not surprisingly, absinthe is most often
described as having a licorice flavor.
Here´s to la fée verte:
A drink of absinth – “la fée verte” – is typically prepared by pouring cold water
over a sugar cube resting on a slotted spoon. This application dissolves the sugar,
dilutes the green absinthe, and, as the cold water mixes with the absinthe, it
clouds, an effect called the “louche” (pronounced “loosh.”) The mix ratio is
usually 4 to 5 parts water to 1 part absinthe.
Adapted from the author's novel, Moon Water
October, it was, and already the Christmas lights circling the porch
colonnades were at play across the shimmering bayou, its surface alive in crab-
rippled eddies of red and blue, in water-bug circles of green and gold, the whole
playing out in the dance of the little boy's eyes:
"Strung 'em a little early dis year, kiddo," his great-grandpa said. "Didn't want
de gators a-baskin' up 'ere on de veranda while yo' great grandma was a'doin' her
cookin'. Stole a hot yam pie last year, some cornbread stuffin', an' de whole
stuffed turkey, yep, two of de biggin's jist swaggered up an' swiped dem right off
de table, hot grease an' all. Had a heck-of-a fight right der in de kitchen, de one
a-wrestlin' de other for de last of de cornbread stuffin'."
"De boy don't believe yuh no more," the old lady's loving glance, at her mate
of fifty-plus years, melting his heart and his yarn, "goin' on 'leven, ya know."
"But, I do! I do!" cried their visiting Yankee great-grandson, turning his back
to the bayou's colors, "besides, the Bible tells me to. Moses and the Ten
Commandments, the one about honoring your father and mother...but you know
that one, don't you, great-grandpa...and you pray, too, don't you?" this, with
impassioned concern.
"Most ev'ry day, sonny-boy...an yo' great-gran'ma, too," he replied - the old
lady's rocker resuming a rhythm of comfort. "Or maybe...maybe we don't talk so
much as we listen," he amended, giving his wife a wink. "Ya see, yo' great-
gran'ma 'n me, we hear God a-talkin' all 'round us...like in de who-oosh of a
pelican's wing, or-or de cry of de great blue heron; an' de spa-lash of de gar in de
bayou, der, an' de breathin'...yeh...de steady breathin' of de cypress swamp.
Betcha don't know 'bout de bald cypress, huh? Betcha don't know dey breath tru
der knees. Why, some of dem knobby knees out der 'bout as old as Moses
'imself, an' a-heck-of-a-lot smarter, too. Twelve hundred years old, some of dem
cypress, and so full of resin dat de bugs jist leave dem alone. Won't rot fer de
same reason."
"Now, t' yo' great-gran'ma 'n me, dat's de good Lord a-provin' He's got
ever'ting under control, dat He don't need our help...dat He don't need a pile o'
stones bein' trown t' make us understand what we s'posed t' do.
Why, even de Injuns..." here, a long pause to light his pipe, "...yep, even de
Injuns knowed better'n der bein' a God so cruel as dat. Come t' tink of it, we still
call de swamp by de name dey giv it. 'Atchafalaya'. Betcha didn't knew dat, too.
Yep, Atchafalaya's de Injun word fer 'wood eternal'. Now, if dat ain't referrin' t'
God - de eternal part, I mean - den I ain't a-listenin' right!" three rings of cherry
pipe smoke signaling his satisfaction, his simple pleasure in the peace such
truths afforded.
For stuffing hens, turkeys or bell peppers
Ingredients:

1 cup chopped onion
2 cups chopped cooked pork sausage
1 cup chopped green onions
½ cup chopped bell pepper
4 cups crumbled cornbread
3 cups chicken stock
Cajun Seasoning to taste
Salt and pepper to taste
Instructions:
In a large skillet, heat oil over high heat.
Add the onion and cooked pork sausage pieces and sauté for 2 minutes.
Add the green onions, celery, bell pepper and garlic, sauté 2 more minutes.
Stir in the crumbled cornbread, chicken stock and Cajun seasoning and cook,
stirring occasionally, for 2 minutes.
Remove from heat.

Salt and pepper to taste.
Fill the rinsed cavity of a prepared hen or turkey, and follow baking directions.
If stuffing bell peppers, place stuffed peppers in a greased baking dish and bake
20 minutes.
Place any remaining portions into a greased baking dish and cover with foil.
Bake for 25 minutes.

Fontenot and Thibodeaux had directed their pirough to an area of swamp

peopled by a host of cypress knees, when Fontenot withdrew from his overalls a
shiny, round flask. Unscrewing the lid, which doubled as a cup, he poured
himself a steaming brew of strong Community coffee. Thibodeaux was instantly
envious, asking Fontenot, "Wad's dat ting ya got der?"
Grinning imperiously, Fontenot replied, "Dis here's a termos, Thibodeaux, I got

at Walmart dis mornin'"
"Wad it do?" queried Thibodeaux incredulously, eyeing the mysterious object.

"A termos keeps cold tings cold and hot tings hot," Fontenot explained, his
coffee sweetened by the mild disdain he felt for Thibodeaux's ignorance.
The next day, the two Cajuns were again among the cypress knees, preparing to
cast their lines, when Thibodeaux suddenly, and with great show, brought forth
from the expanse of his overalls a thermos even larger than the one Fontenot had
enjoyed the previous day.
Fontenot, not to be outdone, withdrew his own thermos to pour his morning
drink. "Wads in de termos, Thibodeaux," he asked, pleased to see he had
educated his fishing buddy, "...coffee?"
"Nah," Thibodeaux answered proudly, "I dun better'n dat. Me, I got ice cream
and gumbo...like ya tol' me...dis here termos keeps de ice cream cold, and de
gumbo hot!"
One afternoon Fontenot's phone rang. "Yah," he growled, listening intently for a
moment, "I-I dunno, me, dat ting too far to see from here," and with that he
slammed the receiver down.
"Who dat call?" his wife asked, noting Fontenot's exasperation.
"Mais, some couillon tought dis was de weather bureau. Axed if da coast was
clear."
Boudreau's banker called him in to express his concern over the dismal shape of
his finances. "Your checking account is overdrawn and your loan is overdue," he
said with dismay.
"Yeh, I know," said Boudreaux, ruefully, "it's my wife, she spends more den I
make."
"Then, why on earth don't you talk to her about it?" the banker asked, shaking
his head in consternation.
"Mais, to tell de trut," replied Boudreaux quietly, fidgeting his hands in his lap,
"I'd...I'd radder argue wid you than wid her!"
Remoulade Sauce
Yield: 14 ounces
Ingredients:
¼ cup vegetable oil

¼ cup chopped onion
¼ cup chopped green onion
1/8 cup chopped celery
4 tbsp mayonnaise
2 tbsp Dijon mustard
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 tbsp prepared horseradish
1 tbsp yellow mustard
3 tsp chopped parsley leaves
1 tsp ketchup
½ tsp salt
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
1/8 tsp black pepper
Instructions:
Combine all ingredients in a food processor and process for 45 seconds.
Cover unused portion and store in refrigerator for up to three days.
Remoulade Sauce (pronounced: ray-muh-LAHD), is traditionally a chilled,

flavored mayonnaise used in French cuisine.
The mixture includes mayonnaise, anchovies (or anchovy paste), mustard,

capers, and chopped pickles, served as a dressing for cold cuts, poultry or
seafood.
The above recipe is a Cajun adaptation of the original, and is more akin to what
is served in Acadian restaurants.
I Would've Married Ya No Matter
One evening Boudreaux and his wife, Clotille, were sitting on the front porch
swing. Relaxed and contemplative, Boudreaux asked Clotille, "Cher, would
ya've married me if my papa hadn't left me all dat money?"
Clotille was quick to reply, "Boudreaux, how can ya ax dat? I would've married
ya no matter who left ya all dat money!"
A Claim to Fame
Louisiana has had its share of famous natives. Among them are Louis
Armstrong - jazz musician, Elizabeth Ashley - actress, Terry Bradshaw -
quarterback, sports announcer, Trace Adkins - singer, Geoffrey Beene - fashion
designer, Truman Capote - author, James Carville - political consultant, Van
Cliburn - concert pianist, Harry Connick Jr. - actor, musician - Dr. Michael
DeBakey - heart surgeon, Fats Domino - rock and roll singer, Buddy Guy - blues
musician, Peyton Manning - quarterback, Britney Spears - singer, Reese
Witherspoon - actress; just to name a few.
But fame would not be the same without some of the infamous characters that
used their wiles to gain the stage. Dudley J Leblanc and his patent medicine,
Hadacol, is showcased elsewhere in this book, as is Marie Laveau, the Voodoo
Queen of New Orleans. And Kingfish (Huey P Long) must be given credit, too,
for making Louisiana a byword of his day. But no political shenanigans, nor
colorful personalities, can compare to the mystery of the Ax-man.
In early 1919 the city of New Orleans was on edge. An ax-wielding serial
killer was attacking people in their homes, killing them in their sleep. In March
of that year, a person claiming to be the killer wrote to the local newspaper,
promising another attack on the 19th of that month. Oddly, the author claimed to
be a jazz enthusiast and wrote that he would spare any home where jazz was
playing that night. Needless to say, the sounds of jazz streamed from homes
across the city that night, and no one was killed.
Most of the attacks attributed to the Ax-man occurred in the wee hours of the
morning. The killer would chisel into the door lock mechanism, quietly gain
entry, then slaughter the sleeping inhabitants. Robbery was never a motive, but
most of the victims were of Italian descent and lived in rooms adjoining their
corner stores. This fact led to suspicions of Mafia involvement, but a detective
on the case argued that the Mafia would never kill a woman (the Ax-man's
victims included women and a young girl).
The Ax-man was never apprehended, and the attacks ended abruptly when a
grocer was slain in October of that year. At least six people had been hacked to
death while the spree lasted, and the prevailing theory at the time was that the
killer was a respectable citizen with a violent alter ego.
And then there is Mardi Gras, one of the most famous festivals in all of
America. Mardi Gras - French for Fat Tuesday - is a series of celebrations
beginning on or after Epiphany and culminating on the day before Ash
Wednesday. Fat Tuesday refers to the practice of eating rich, fatty foods before
the fasting of the Lent season begins, and what better place to observe that
custom than New Orleans!
Sauce Piquant
With or without fish pronounced: ’pê-kant Yield: 4 - 6 servings
Ingredients:
Optional:
1 lb fresh catfish or red snapper, cut into 1" cubes
(Or, 1 lb small to medium peeled and deveined shrimp)
½ cup vegetable oil
½ cup flour
2 cups Cajun Shrimp Stock, or chicken broth
1 ½ cup chopped onions
1 cup chopped green pepper
1 cup chopped celery
2 10 oz cans tomatoes and green chili pepper
2 8 oz cans tomato sauce
½ tsp kosher salt
4 cups steamed rice
Instructions:
If using fish in the recipe, prepare fish as described above.
Place 4 quart pot over medium-high heat.
Add oil and flour and cook for 5 minutes, stirring constantly.
Reduce heat to medium and cook and stir an additional 10 minutes, or, until the
roux becomes the color of peanut butter.
Stir in onions, bell pepper, celery and garlic. Cook and stir for 8 minutes.
In a blender, blend the tomatoes and green chili peppers, tomato sauce and stock
or broth.
Pour the mix into the pot and add Cajun spice and salt.
Simmer covered for 1 hour, or until sauce is thickened.
If using fish, stir in pieces and cook another 5 minutes, or until fish will flake
with a fork.
Serve over steamed rice.

Thibodeaux's Parrot
One afternoon Boudreaux saw Thibodeaux filling his pick-um-up truck at the
local gas station. Boudreaux wheeled in and rolled down his window:
"Thibodeaux," he shouted, "did Hebert ever give ya dat Parrot I sent ya?"
"Mais, yah, Thibodeaux responded, topping his tank and resetting the nozzle, "an
me, I appreciate dat all over myself. Dat bird made the bes' sauce piquant I ever
did cook."
"Don't tell me ya cooked dat parrot!" Boudreaux yelled, "dat ting talk in ten
languages, yeh!"
Thibodeaux was dumbstruck. "Mais, if he was dat smart...he shoulda said

sumting!"
Chef Raphael's
Cajun Seasoning
Ingredients:
2 tbsp salt
2 tbsp paprika
2 tbsp garlic powder
1 tbsp cayenne pepper
1 tbsp black pepper
1 tbsp onion powder
1 tbsp dried thyme
1 tbsp dried marjoram
Chef Paul Raphael’s

"Cajun Cookin' with an Attitude"
Thibodeaux joined Boudreaux to watch a football game. Over the noise of the
TV, Thibodeaux asked "What's de score, Boudreaux?" "Ten to seven,"
Boudreaux replied.
"Who's winnin?" asked Thibodeaux, claiming a chair next to Boudreaux's

recliner.
Mumbling, Boudreaux pushed his recliner back, "...De ten."
One night Boudreaux and Thibodeaux were watching TV. A commercial about a
new, blockbuster movie was aired, the announcer ending with, "Coming soon to
a theater near you."
Perplexed, Thibodeaux turned to Boudreaux, "Mais, Boudreaux, how dey know

where we live?"
Boudreaux was dining at his favorite bayou cafe, and Thibodeaux was his waiter.
As Thibodeaux brought Boudreaux's big crab cake, he had his thumb pressed
across the middle of the crispy cake. Boudreaux noticed, and asked,
"Thibodeaux, why ya touchin' my crab cake, hey?"
Thibodeaux replied, with surprise, "Mais, ya wants it to fall on de floor again?

Cocktail Sauce
Ingredients:
1 cup ketchup
2 tbsp fresh squeezed lemon juice
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
2 tbsp prepared horseradish, drained
1 tsp Louisiana or Tabasco hot sauce
½ tsp black pepper
½ tsp salt
Whisk ingredients until well combined.
Serve in condiment dishes or shot glasses.

Mother Sauces, also called Grand Sauces, are the five most basic sauces that
every cook should seek to master. The father of French Grande Cuisine, Antonin
Careme, developed the methodology in the early 1800's, his methods allowing
literally hundreds of sauces to be categorized under the basic five, with infinite
possibilities for variations. Sauces are one of the fundamentals of cooking, and a
working familiarity with them allows a cook to create any number of derivatives.
The above-average cook must be able to prepare the basic five in large batches
for use as a foundation for making smaller versions that are seasoned and
flavored separately, but all using one of the Mother Sauces as their base.
The five Mother Sauces are:
Bechamel Sauce (white) - sauces that are made with milk and pale roux.
Common sauces in this group include Crème, Mornay and Soubise.
Veloute Sauce (blond) - sauces that are made with white stock and roux.
Common sauces in this group include, Allemande, Ravigote, Suprème, and
White Bordelaise.
Brown (demi-glace) or Espagnole Sauce - sauces that are brown stock-
based. Common sauces in this group include Bordelaise, Chasseur,
Chateaubriand, Diable, Diane, Estragon, Lyonnaise, Madère, Madeira,
Moscovite, Mushroom, Piquante, Porto, Robert, Romaine, Tarragon, and
Zingara.
Hollandaise Sauce (butter) - sauces that are emulsified such as Hollandaise

or Mayonnaise.
Tomato Sauce (red) - tomato based sauces. Common sauces in this category
include Spaghetti sauce, Marinara sauce and a wide variety of tomato sauces.
Roux Sauces
Basic Roux is made by melting butter, or heating oil, and stirring in flour to let it
brown, to varying degrees, depending on its use.
It is the beginning of many French sauces.
White Sauce (Sauce Blanche) is a Roux combined with water or stock.
Bechamel Sauce is a Roux combined with milk, used in many recipes, including
lasagna.
Mornay Sauce is a Bechamel Sauce made with cheese, often served over
steamed vegetables and fish.
Sauce Soubise is a Bechamel Suace incorporating onions. This sauce is excellent

with grilled meats.
Recipe Category
Oyster Stew

MIRACLE GUMBO
A hurricane's fury had blown away everything but the weathered old shrimper
himself: two of his helpers, his stilted house, his shrimp boat, and even, it
seemed of late, his will to live. Trudging what was left of his native beach, he
felt helpless, lonely and confused; the refuse of catastrophe strewn haphazardly
across the eroded sands. Here and there he could see children at play, seemingly
oblivious to the recent disaster, their attentive adults at watch under sunshades
and oil.
From a distance, he could see a lad diligently employing his toy shovel,
happily erecting a sand castle, his innocent imagination replete with ladies and
knights. As the old man drew nearer, he was taken by the form and intricacy of
the small boy's creation, his castle complete with gates and draws made of refuse
from the flood's retreat. Everything has its purpose, the shrimper thought: a piece
of wood from a shutter becomes a draw for a castle; a killer storm litters the
beach for the blameless employ of a child.
Approaching the ingenious formation, he praised the boy for his crafting
skills, asking, as if to test his cleverness, "How will you fill the mote?" The lad,
still busy about the parapets, answering politely, "I don't have to worry with that,
mister...the Gulf will fill it for me." And so it will, thought the old man,
continuing his meandering stroll.
Returning to the benevolence of a friend's shelter, he could not forget the

child's remarks, a simple faith in the laws of nature abetting a boy at play. The
lad was too young to understand, he thought...he just knew it would come. He
had played there before. Still marveling at the innocence of youth in the face of
calamity, he wished, suddenly, he could be like the boy: unfettered, unhurried,
happiness but a wish away.
"We had a visitor while you were out," his friend announced, dispelling the
old man's reverie. "Left money and a request...wants you to make a pot of your
shrimp and okra gumbo...has family visiting from up north...says yours is the
best...says his kinfolk are very, very rich, but is sure they've never had the best of
the best when it comes to Cajun gumbo. Quite the compliment, I'd say."
Wishing he had been blessed with 'rich kinfolk', the old shrimper headed out
for his ingredients, pleased just to be in someone's consideration.
But amazed was he, when the morning brought with it a gift equal to his
needs: monies sufficient for another boat and a new abode. His gumbo had
awakened the rich kinfolks' appetite for the best, including the ineffable joy of
giving!
It was then that he understood the boy at the beach, his faith for unlimited
supply; for in truth, without forethought or effort on either one's part, the same
great gulf that had given of its depths for the little one's mote, had given to him
its offering of shrimp for his gumbo...his Miracle Gumbo.
Shrimp and Okra Gumbo
Yield: approx eight servings
Ingredients:
3 lbs fresh or frozen shrimp, peeled

7 pints water
3 pints fresh or frozen sliced okra (if fresh, omit tops and tips, cutting ½" slices)
¾ cup vegetable oil
¾ cup all purpose flour
1 cup chopped bell pepper
2 cups chopped onions
1 16oz can stewed tomatoes
½ tbsp chopped garlic
3 bay leaves
1 tbsp salt *
½ tsp black pepper *
½ tsp white pepper *
¼ tsp cayenne pepper *
¼ tsp Louisiana hot sauce *
2 quarts steamed rice
*Or to taste
Instructions:
Peel and devein the shrimp. Place in large container and keep covered in
refrigerator.
Rinse the shrimp shells and place in a large stock pot with 7 pints of water.
Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for one hour to make the stock.
Strain, discard the shells, and set aside.
In an iron skillet, heat 3 tbsp of vegetable oil, add the okra and sauté, over
medium heat, for about 15 minutes, or, until the stickiness disappears. Set aside.
Place ¾ cup vegetable oil in an 8 quart, or larger, heavy, non-reactive pot.
Add the flour and stir, over medium high heat, with a long wooden spoon.
Continue stirring until the mixture (roux) becomes dark brown in color.
(Be careful not to burn the roux, as this will prevent it from incorporating
properly with the stock.)
Add the celery, bell peppers and onions and sauté, stirring frequently, until
tender.
Next, add stewed tomatoes, bay leaves, salt, peppers and hot sauce.
Continue cooking for about 12 to 15 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent the

vegetables from sticking to the bottom.
Add the sautéed okra and chopped garlic and cook another 10 minutes.
Add most of the stock (reserving about one pint) and bring the pot to a boil,
stirring constantly.
Lower the heat and simmer for thirty minutes, partially covered, stirring
occasionally.
After thirty minutes, if the gumbo seems too thick, adjust with pours from the
reserved stock.
Now add the peeled shrimp and return to a boil.
Reduce the heat and simmer for about 5 minutes, or until the shrimp turn pink
and firm.
Remove the pot from heat.
Serve in large bowls over steamed rice.

Marie Laveau
Voodoo Priestess
Born in 1794, died in 1881...and again in 1897! Marie Laveau, historically

the most famous Voodoo priestess in America. Marie was, in fact, two women: a
mother (1794-1881) and her look-alike daughter, of the same name (1827-1897).
Born in Santo Domingo, the capital city of the Dominican Republic,

sometime around 1794, Marie was of white, black and Indian mix, the daughter
of a wealthy Creole planter, Charles Laveau, and his mistress Marguerite
Darcantel. Moved to New Orleans in her youth, she was raised a Catholic under
the ministry of Pere Antoine, the chaplain at St. Louis Cathedral - the same Pere
who, in 1819, officiated at her marriage to Jacques Paris, also from Santo
Domingo. Marie was beautiful, tall and statuesque, with curly black hair,
flashing bright eyes, and light skin, and already mysterious; for shortly after her
marriage, Paris disappeared. Three years later, his death certificate was filed with
no record of internment. Marie then began using the title of "Veuvee Paris"
(Widow Paris).
Commensurate with widowhood, Marie became an accomplished hairdresser,

her clientele the elite of New Orleans, her craft gaining her not only money, but
the most intimate secrets of her clients: details about their husbands, their affairs,
their businesses, their fears of ridicule in high society - information she would
later use to advantage.
In 1826, Marie became the mistress of Captain Louis Glapion. Although

never married, they had 15 children, the first of whom was a daughter, Marie,
born in 1827. Glapion died in 1855 and was buried in the Laveau family tomb in
St. Louis Cemetery No 1.
By 1826, Marie was secretly training with New Orleans Voodoo doctor, Jean
Montaigne (Doctor John), and learned from him how to make potent charms,
potions and gris-gris (amulets). She also gained an extensive knowledge of herbs
and natural healing remedies. Laveau's hairdressing skills took her into the
homes of the wealthy, where she also told fortunes, gave advice on love affairs
and prepared gris-gris for cures or charms. Eventually, she gave up hairdressing
to become the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.
At this time, Creole plantation owners from the West Indies were migrating
with their slaves to develop plantations. Many of the slaves brought with them
the practice of Voodoo, and New Orleans was beginning to rock to the beat of
the drums on Congo Square, where they danced, sang, and worshiped their gods.
Congo Square soon became a popular place of risqué amusement for whites and
their visitors.
With Congo Square the main attraction, Marie began her rise to power on the
shores of Lake Pontchartrain, where she bought a cottage, Maison Blanche, to
begin employing the secrets gained in the boudoirs of New Orleans. She invited
the elite to take part in orgiastic dancing, drinking and lovemaking. Shortly, the
wealthy were paying her for help with their illicit affairs and business and
domestic issues. Politicians paid for her help to win elections, and the police and
media secretly exchanged services.
On Sundays, Marie began fascinating crowds on Congo Square with her

snake, Zombi, inviting the media, police and other thrill-seekers to attend her
goings-on at Maison Blanche. Charging admission, Voodoo soon became a very
profitable business for Marie.
Marie incorporated Catholicism in her rituals, including baptism, holy water,

incense, chants, prayers, candles and crosses. She even gained the approval of
the priest at St. Louis Cathedral by encouraging her followers to attend mass,
and by providing freely for the needs of the poor and suffering. On the shores of
Lake Ponchartrain, Marie presided over the annual ritual of St. John's Eve,
dancing with her snake, Zombi, wrapped around her. The night ritual included
drinking, singing, nude dancing, bonfires and animal sacrifices, in which
offerings were made to ancestral spirits for protection. Some of the dancers
would fall into trances, performing cures and giving advice to onlookers.
Hundreds attended, making admission fees sizable.
Marie continued her Voodoo practice throughout the mid 1800's, providing
intimate liaisons at risqué parties in her own home, and in the homes of the
wealthy. In 1875, at the age of 81, Marie made her last appearance at the Congo
Square dances. Aging, and unable to look after herself, she moved into a back
room of her home. There, under the care of her daughter, Marie Laveau II, she
lay bedridden until she died, on the 15th of June, 1881.
One of the most enduring legends is that of Marie Laveaus's perpetual youth.
In 1875, when she retired from public appearances, the common people never
noticed her disappearance. She continued to preside over the Congo Square
dances, yet she seemed younger and full of vigor. It was her look-alike daughter,
Marie Laveau II, who now began to appear in her mother's place.
Like her mother, Marie Laveau II started out as a hairdresser, but then ran a
bar and brothel on Bourbon Street, which proved a good training ground for
when she eventually took over her mother's position as the Voodoo Queen of
New Orleans. Like her mother, she also made special arrangements with the
police and media, who never raided her premises without prior notice, and then
only for appearances sake.
Some reports suggest Marie II drowned during a storm on Lake Ponchartrain,

while others claim she died of a heart attack during one of her infamous orgies at
Maison Blanche. Nevertheless, controversy still surrounds the burial sites of
both Maries. The tomb of Marie Laveau I is thought to be in St. Louis Cemetery
No 1 on Basin Street, in the vault of "Famille Veuvee Paris nee Laveau". The
tomb of Marie Laveau II was thought to be in St. Louis Cemetery No 2 on
Iberville Street, in the vault of the Desdunes family. Historians now place her in
a different tomb a few feet away, under the name Mrs. Charles Laveau - the
enigma continues.
Shrimp and Corn Chowder Recipe

Crowley, located between the cities of Lake Charles and Lafayette in south
Louisiana, is home to the International Rice Festival, an annual event held
during the third weekend in October. The Festival is Louisiana‘s oldest
agricultural festival, and will mark its seventy-fifth year in October of 2012.
Since its beginning, over seven million people have attended.
Marked by two parades, there is also a farmers‘ banquet, a Queen‘s Ball, rice
cooking contest, and, what would naturally follow, a rice eating contest. Live
entertainment is almost continuous, going from early morning to midnight
throughout the Festival.
Other than a good time for all, the point of the Festival is to celebrate the life
achievements of Salmon Lusk Wright, a rice farmer and scientist who, during his
lifetime, revolutionized the industry with scientific farming techniques; benefits
he unabashedly shared with any who were willing to learn. Although Mr. Wright
died in 1929, his advances in rice farming are what gave the area renown in
grain quality and production.
Rice Facts:
Rice first came to Louisiana with the Acadian settlers, some of them bringing
the grain with them from the Carolinas. Originally sewn in areas that couldn‘t be
plowed, settlers tossed the seed into the wetlands near bayous and ponds. These
early harvestings were called "Providence Rice" by the grateful harvesters. It
wasn‘t until after the 1850‘s that commercial production began, spurred by the
introduction of railroads which transported the crops to New Orleans for
shipment elsewhere. Southwest Lousisiana now ranks third in national
production.
Probably the most well-known distinction among varieties of rice is long-

grain, medium-grain and short-grain. The long-grain varieties tend to remain
intact after cooking, while the mediun-grain becomes a little sticky. That feature
makes medium-grain more adaptable to sweet dishes, while short-grain is
favored for molded dishes and puddings.
Rice is usually cooked by boiling or steaming, either method allowing for

water absorption while cooking. Instant rice differs from parboiled rice in that it
is fully cooked, then dried, rendering a noticeable degradation in taste and
texture. Parboiled, a process now employed by about half of the world‘s
producers, is rice that has been partially boiled in the husk. It is a three step
process: soaking, steaming and drying. These three steps make the rice easier to
process, increase its nutritional value, and change its texture for the better.
Worthy of note is that cooked rice can contain spores which produce a toxin
when left at temperatures over 39° F. Therefore, when storing unused cooked
rice, it is advisable to cover the rice and store it in the refrigerator. Reheating
contaminated rice kills the bacteria, but does not destroy the toxin already
present.
Oyster Stew
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients:
2 tbsp butter
1 tbsp flour
½ cup chopped onion
¼ cup chopped celery
1 pint half-and-half
1 pint whole milk
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper
1/8 tsp cayenne
12 ounces fresh raw oysters, undrained
2 tbsp chopped fresh parsley
2 green onions, chopped for garnish
Crackers, for serving
Instructions:
In a large sauté pan, melt butter. Add flour, stirring constantly, and cook for 3 or
4 minutes.
Add the onion and celery and cook, stirring constantly, for another 2 minutes.
Stir in the oyster liquid, half-and-half and milk. Bring back to temperature.
Add salt, black pepper, cayenne and garlic. Stir well.
Add oysters and parsley and cook over low heat until the oysters begin to curl on
the edges
(make sure mixture does not boil during this process).
Remove from heat.
Serve with crackers and garnish with green onions.
Note:
Fresh oysters, in the shell, are unavailable in many areas. Canned oysters may be
substituted, although the flavor and texture will be somewhat inferior. Also,
since canned oysters are pasteurized, and usually smaller, the cooking time, after
adding the oysters, may have to be shortened to avoid toughening.
Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival
Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, (pronounced: Bro Bridge), located just east of

Lafayette and south of I-10, is known for one of the top ten annual food events
in all of America, the Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival. Although crab, shrimp
and crawfish boils are prevalent across southern Louisiana, it is the crawfish boil
that is most popular within the region know as Acadiana. One reason for its
popularity may be its cost, relative to crab and shrimp. In the height of the
season (early spring), live crawfish are sometimes as inexpensive as $1.00 per
pound, while shrimp are as much as six to eight times that for the larger variety,
popular in cocktails.
The centerpiece for many a backyard gathering, a crawfish boil is usually
accomplished in a very large pot (15 to 25 gallon capacity) equipped with a
strainer, and heated by a propane burner. Seasonings vary, but frequently include
Cajun seasoning packets, available locally. In the same water, the addition of
ears of corn, new potatoes, onions and garlic are traditionally included. Once
accomplished, the contents are removed, drained, and placed on a newspaper
covered outdoor table. Various hot sauces, sliced lemons and hot butter are the
usual accouterments to a boil, as well as a generous serving of horseradish-
infused cocktail sauce. In an adaptation of a famous movie title, it seems that
"ALL like it hot!"
The annual Breaux Bridge Festival is usually enjoyed during the first three-
day weekend of May. Events include gatherings of famous Zydeco and Swamp
Pop musicians, with dozens of bands showcased over the three day spree; Cajun
heritage displays, with live demonstrations of Cajun cooking; and, of course, the
consumption of the Festival‘s namesake, crawfish, in some of its infinite
presentations, such as boiled or fried, or as a pie, bisque, gumbo, etouffee,
jambalaya or boudin, to name just a few.
Not to be outdone by the chefs, some lucky crawfish participate in a crawfish

race, over an eight-foot circular target. There are Cajun dances, cook-offs, arts
and crafts shows, carnival rides, a parade with its requisite election of a queen,
and even a crawfish eating contest, if one is so inclined. All-in-all, there is truly
something exciting for participants of every age.
Area attractions include nearby Lafayette, with its array of excellent Cajun
restaurants, and a few minutes to the south, New Iberia and Avery Island, the
home of Tabasco products (Avery Island is in a featured article - see Table of
Contents)
Crawfish, also called crayfish or crawdads, are closely related to the lobster.
More than two hundred and fifty species live in various parts of North America,
particularly along the Great Mississippi basin. Crawfish have a joined head and
midsection and a segmented body. The head is pronounced by a sharp snout, and
the eyes are on movable stalks. Average length of an adult is about three inches.
The eyes alone would tend to preclude the crawfish from creature beauty
contests!
Shrimp may be substituted for crawfish
Requires 5 gal stock pot - Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients:
½ cup course salt

3 packages crab boil (3 oz size)
2 tbsp black pepper
3 bay leaves
5 med lemons, halved
1 lb red bliss potatoes
3 garlic bulbs, cut in half from top to bottom
3 med onions, peeled and halved
3 lbs live crawfish (or 3 lbs med shrimp unshelled)
1 lb andouille sausage, thickly sliced
4 ears shucked corn, cut into shorter lengths
6 ramekins of melted butter, for serving
Instructions:
Fill a 5-gallon stockpot with 3 gallons of water.
Add salt, crab seasonings, pepper and bay leaves.
Squeeze the lemon juice into the pot and add the lemon rinds.
Cover and bring to a boil, over high heat, for 10 minutes.
Uncover and add the potatoes, garlic and onions. Cover and bring mix back to a
boil for another 10 minutes.
Uncover and add the live crawfish (or shrimp), andouille (a spicy, heavily
smoked sausage made from pork chitterlings and tripe) slices and corn sections.
Cover and bring to a boil for another 6 minutes.
Remove from heat and allow the mix to rest, covered, for another 15 minutes.
(Best served out-of-doors) Spread a table with layers of newspaper or large

plastic bags.
Using a large strainer, lift the mix out of the stockpot, allowing the liquid to
drain back into the pot.
Pour the mix onto the prepared table and serve with the melted butter. (Remove
the bay leaves before eating)
Recipe Category
See next page for a list of the
recipes for this Recipe Category
Shrimp and Andouilee Jambalaya
Cajun Fried Shrimp
Shrimp Creole
NOTE: More recipes on next page.

Creole Red Snapper
Blackened Catfish

Red beans and rice, little Amelia mused, the aroma pungent throughout the
house. She knew it was washday, because as sure as the Sabbath brought smoked
ham, Monday found the remnants in red beans and rice. It had always been that
way, Amelia‘s mother had explained; because the pot could be left unattended,
while housewives went about the weekly chore of doing their families‘ wash.
But for Amelia, today was different. School was out for the summer, and her
mother had rewarded her for a week of washing the supper dishes without
complaint. "Obedience is better than sacrifice, said the Lord," her devout mother
had remarked; and today, she would enjoy the rewards of both: for obediently
sacrificing a daily hour before the dusk that darkened the kitchen‘s window.
Brushing through the curls of her short auburn hair, Amelia regarded her
reflection in the mirror, considering her mother‘s rouge - perhaps a little lipstick
- to abet her imagination. Applying the blush to her cheeks, she thought better of
the lipstick, abandoning the mirror to go ask for her Mother‘s blessings.
Amused, her mother continued to feed the old ringer machine: "And just who are
you getting pretty for?"
Embarrassed, Amelia wiped the color from her cheeks - though a school-mate
came quickly to mind. "Just playing," she said sheepishly; helping her mother
feed towels through the wringer.
Being the wiser, her mother advised, "When you go to the park to play, why
don‘t you ask your friend, Joey, to have supper with us tonight...and tell him to
ask his father to come, since his -"
"I-I know, mother, I know," Amelia sputtered, wondering how a parent could
be so all-knowing as to connect a little powder to a boy, "Joey doesn‘t have a
mother anymore." Recalling her freedom, she ran for the gate, exchanging the
scrutiny for a swing and a merry-go-round.
"Make‘s me think of my wife," Joey‘s father remarked, accepting the

steaming plate of red beans and rice. "One of her best dishes," he added, a
remembered adoration aglow in the deep of his eyes.
"And my favorite, too!" piped Joey, unmindful of Amelia‘s furtive glances.
"Used to dance with her, in front of the radio, to the jazz of Louis
Armstrong," Joey‘s father added, leaning over his plate to inhale the rich aroma -
the wistful remark causing Amelia‘s parents to exchange a knowing look, then a
nod, her mother arising to bring back a silver-framed photo of the trumpeter.
"In memory of your wife," she said, presenting it to Joey‘s father, "Satchmo
used to play with my brother in the Quarter; and knowing my love for Satchmo,
my brother got this for me. See?" she said, pointing at the inscription scrawled
across the bottom, "It‘s signed, Red Beans and Ricely Yours, Louis Armstrong."
Deeply moved, Joey‘s father set the silver frame in front of his plate. "If
only...oh, if only she could see this," he sighed, his dark eyes misting with tears.
"But she does, Papa," Joey cried, "she does! Why, how many times have you
said, Mama‘s always looking over my shoulder!"
Yield: approx. 8 servings
This dish ranks high among the favorites of Louisiana natives, and is
considered a required staple of even the more elegant eateries. The preceding
story told truthfully the accepted origin of the dish: the Monday washday one-
pot supper; which is why many Louisiana restaurants still make it Monday‘s
entrée du jour.
A relatively easy dish to prepare - excepting the occasional addition of water

and the requisite stir now-and-then - it is sure to be a second-helping kind of
meal, an exceptional treat for family and guests alike.
Ingredients:

1 cup chopped onions
½ cup chopped green bell peppers
1 tsp salt
1 tsp Tabasco
½ tsp cayenne pepper (if using andouille, reduce cayenne to ¼ tsp)
¼ tsp black pepper
1 tsp dried thyme
1½ lbs smoked ham (or 1 lb andouille), cut into ½" pieces
3 bay leaves
1 lb dried red beans, rinsed, soaked overnight, and drained
4 tbsp chopped garlic
10 cups water
2 quarts steamed rice, to serve
¼ cup fresh chopped parsley, to garnish
Instructions:
In a large saucepan, heat the vegetable oil over med-high heat.
Sauté the onions, peppers, celery, salt, Tabasco, cayenne, black pepper and
thyme for about 4 minutes.
Add the smoked ham (or andouille) pieces and sauté another 6 minutes.
Add the bay leaves, the soaked and drained beans, the garlic and 10 cups of
water .
Bring to a boil and reduce heat to medium.
Simmer, uncovered, for 3½ to 4 hours, stirring occasionally, and adding a little

water if mixture becomes too thick or dry.
About halfway through the cooking process, use a wooden spoon to mash some
of the mixture against the sides of the pot, then stir the mashed portion back into
the body of the simmering remainder.
This will make the mixture creamy and blend the spices more efficiently.
Once the beans are sufficiently soft, remove the three bay leaves and serve over
steamed rice.
Garnish with fresh, chopped parsley, if desired.

Love Étouffée
Adrift on Lake Ponchartrain, the young fisherman allowed the ebbing tide to
draw his small craft further from the trestles of the long train bridge. He was
pleased with his troll of flounder, but his thoughts were elsewhere, desultory,
gloomy and dark - like the threatening sky. I had better come to my senses and
get back to shore, he thought, the lake‘s surface beginning to chop with the
blustering wind. Just because a fellow‘s lost his gal, is no call to volunteer for
the obituaries, he mused, giving the outboard motor a quick pull of the rope.
Despite his fight with the mounting waves, he was cheered just to have a
purpose, an aim, the marina growing larger on the shore‘s horizon. All I did was
give her the freedom every good wife deserves, he shouted to the cacophony of
gulls circling overhead, I was trying to express the depth of my love, my total
trust...and she mistook it for a lack of devotion...thought I was suggesting she
was bothersome...no, smothering, that‘s it, thought I meant she was smothering
me with love. Wow! Love étouffée, that‘s what it is...étouffée, Cajun for
smothered...Love Smothered! Just wait till I tell that counselor what happened.
He asked me how much I loved her, and I told him I loved her more than any
man could love a woman...and he actually said that wasn‘t enough! No, to love
her more, I had to surrender her, to give her up to her highest good...Love
Smothered...
The thought was almost amusing, still on his mind, as he neared the safety of
the wharf...so engaging that he didn‘t notice his wife waving on the wharf, not
until he was near enough to toss her the rope. And even then the sight of her was
the vision of an angel...except, she was crying...no, she was laughing...no, she
was crying and laughing, he noted with amazement.
"Oh, Darling!" she cried, securing the rope so he could leap to the wharf and
take her up in his willing arms, "all my life I have searched for a love like yours,
a love so complete it could give away what it cherished most...and now I realize
I have found it...and having found it, I will never resist it again. Take me!" she
whispered, kissing him, "keep me always in that heavenly freedom you give...for
I am yours, eternally!"
And that night, after a candlelit dinner of shrimp étouffée, they went to a
window and stood, arm-in-arm, peering up at the clearing sky, where stars shown
here and there through breaking clouds. And they knew, unspoken between
them, that the same love keeping the stars in their courses was holding them safe
in forever - forever one.
Yield: 8 servings
Ingredients:
3 pints Cajun Shrimp Stock

1 stick butter
¾ cup flour
2 cups chopped celery
2 cups chopped red bell peppers
4 cups chopped onions
1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes, drained
3 bay leaves
1 tbsp salt
3 ½ lbs fresh or frozen medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
¼ cup chopped parsley
Instructions:
Over medium heat, melt butter in large, heavy pot. Add flour and stir
continuously to make a roux (should take 7 to 10 minutes to brown to a color
slightly darker than peanut butter).
Add the garlic, celery, bell peppers and onions, continuing to cook and stir for an
additional 10 minutes.
Add the chili powder, tomatoe sauce, diced tomatoes, bay leaves, salt and Cajun
seasoning, cooking and stirring another 3 minutes.
Stir in the Shrimp Stock and bring the mixture to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and
cook for another 45 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add peeled and deveined shrimp, stirring to incorporate.
Cook another 6 to 7 minutes, or until they are pink and firm.
Add chopped parsley, stirring to incorporate.
Serve immediately over cooked white rice.

In 1971 the Louisiana State Legislature officially recognized 22 Louisiana

parishes for their "strong French Acadian cultural aspects" (House Concurrent
Resolution No. 496, June 6, 1971), and made The Heart of Acadiana the official
name of the region. Despite the Resolution, the name has never been embraced
by the public. Instead, the one-word place name Acadiana references the region.
Acadiana, as defined by the Louisiana legislature, refers to the area from just
west of New Orleans to the Texas border along the Gulf of Mexico, and about
100 miles inland to Marksville. This includes the 22 parishes of Acadia,
Ascension, Assumption, Avoyelles, Calcasieu, Cameron, Evangeline, Iberia,
Iberville, Jeff Davis, Lafayette, Lafourche, Pointe Coupee, St. Charles, St.
James, St. John The Baptist, St. Landry, St. Martin, St. Mary, Terrebonne,
Vermilion, and West Baton Rouge.
Although Cajuns are most often associated with swamplands and bayous,
Acadiana consists of low gentle hills in the north, and dry land prairies, with
marshes and bayous in the south, nearer the Gulf of Mexico. The wetlands are
more numerous in and around the Calcasieu River, Atchafalaya Basin, and the
Mississippi Basin. Acadiana is known for its native fish, but it is also cultivated
with fields of rice and sugarcane.
Many of the recipes in this cook book call for Tabasco Sauce, so here‘s the story
behind it!
One of the jewels of Acadiana lies just south of Lafayette, in Iberia Parish -
Avery Island, internationally known as the home of Tabasco sauce. The tiny
island is actually a salt dome, surrounded by bayous, and is about three miles
inland from Vermillion Bay, which in turn opens onto the Gulf.
American Indians first used the island to extract salt; but when the Avery
family settled there in the early 1800‘s, it was cultivated as a sugar plantation.
The salt mines were not utilized commercially until the Civil War, when a mine
of pure rock salt produced over twenty-two million pounds for the Confederacy.
Prior to the Civil War, Edmund McIlhenny became part of the Avery family
by marriage. And in 1868, Edmund founded McIlhenny Company to
manufacture Tabasco pepper sauce. Today, it is still manufactured by the process
patented in 1870, and the product is marketed world-wide.
Avery Island is also a bird paradise, the result of another McIlhenny,

affectionately referred to as "Mr. Ned". In the late 1890"s, when hunters killed
egrets by the thousands in order to harvest feathers for the ladies‘ hat industry,
Mr. Ned (Edward Avery McIlhenny) gathered a few young egrets and raised
them in captivity on the island. He released them in the fall to migrate across the
Gulf; but when the next spring arrived, the birds returned to the island, bringing
others with them. It is a migration that continues to this day, and, in season,
visitors can see the birds in their natural habitat.
With Savory Crust
Crust Ingredients:
1 ½ cups all purpose flour

1 ½ tsp thyme leaves
½ tsp cayenne
½ tsp salt
4 tbsp butter (½ stick)
4 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp plain yogurt
Crust Instructions:
Spray a 9" or 10" tart pan with cooking spray, or grease with butter.
In a food processor, pulse flour, thyme, cayenne and salt until combined.
Add the butter, 1 tbsp at a time, pulsing until incorporated.
Add the olive oil, pulsing until combined.

Add the yogurt, pulsing until combined.
Press dough into prepared pan, spreading evenly across the bottom, up the sides,
and over the rim to form a crust.
Note:
If dough is too moist, the crust and sides may slide down during baking. To
prevent this, place a slightly smaller pan inside the larger one, trapping the
unbaked crust in between, allowing the initial 15 minutes of baking to firm the
shell in readiness for the filling.
Refrigerate for at least 15 minutes, place in oven until set, but not browned
(approx 15 minutes).
Let cool on wire rack. Increase oven temp to 375° F.

Crawfish Quiche Ingredients:

½ cup diced purple onion
¼ cup diced red bell pepper
1/8 cup diced green bell pepper
2 tsp chopped garlic
½ tsp salt
½ lb crawfish tails (peeled)
1 cup heavy cream
2 large eggs
¼ tsp black pepper
¼ tsp Worcestershire sauce
¼ tsp Tabasco sauce
¼ tbsp chopped chives
¼ cup grated parmesan
1 cup shredded white cheddar
A few green onions (for garnish)
See Three Cheese Grits recipe to use any leftover cheese.
Instructions:
Melt butter in a medium sauté pan over medium heat.
Add the onions, red and green bell peppers, garlic, salt and cayenne, and sauté 2
minutes.
Add crawfish and sauté another 2 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool.
Whisk together the cream, eggs, black pepper, Worcestershire, Tabasco, chives,
parmesan and Cajun Seasoning.
Pour the crawfish and sautéed ingredients into the tart shell, spreading the
mixture evenly.
Pour the whisked mixture over the crawfish and sautéed vegetables.
Toss cheddar loosely over whisked cream and eggs, pressing it softly into the
mix. Be sure the cheese is submerged sufficiently, or the cheese will brown too
quickly.
Bake at 375° F for about 35 minutes, or until center is set and the top is lightly
browned.
Remove from the oven and cool at least 10 minutes before slicing.
Garnish each slice with green onions, if desired.
Note:
This dish is excellent as a leftover. Keep in refrigerator for up to three days, then
microwave briefly. Caution, microwaving too long may dry the crust and
cheeses. If time allows, results are better if microwaved about 30 seconds, then
finished in 375° F oven for 8 - 10 minutes, or until crust is crisp and flakey.
Boudreaux Went to the Bayou Bar
Boudreaux went to the bayou bar and ordered three beers, consuming them
quietly before going home. The next evening, he returned, repeating his order of
three beers at once. This continued for several more nights, causing the bartender
and the regulars to whisper among themselves about the normally lively and
chatty Boudreaux‘s quiet behavior. Finally, the bartender‘s curiosity got the
better of him:
"Boudreaux, I don‘t mean to be nosey," he said, "but everybody around here is

wondering why you always order three beers at one time, then go sit by yourself
in the corner?"
"Mais, dats easy," Boudreaux explained. "I gots two brother. One went t‘ Texas
an‘ de udder one t‘ Mississip‘. We promise each udder dat we‘d order an extra
two beer t‘ keep up de Boudreaux bond."
As the word spread, every Cajun on the bayou was impressed with Boudreaux‘s
explanation, and Boudreaux became the talk of the bayou...until the evening he
ordered two beers instead of three.
With a worried look, the bartender served him the two beers. And it didn‘t take
long for the word to spread up and down the bayou. Even some prayers were
offered for the soul of one of the Boudreaux brothers.
The next evening, as the bartender served Boudreaux his two beers, he said, in a
low voice, "Boudreaux, your friends on the bayou want to offer their
condolences for the death of one of your brothers. You know...the two beers...."
Boudreaux thought for a moment, then looked up with a grin, "You‘ll be happy
t‘ know dat my two brothers are alive and well. It‘s jis dat me, myself, has
decided t‘ give up drinkin‘ for Lent."
pronounced: ’pê-kant
Sauce Piquant is indisputably a Cajun delicacy. One of the easier sauces to

make, it begins with the requisite Cajun roux, which is then adulterated with
tomatoes and tomato paste. To this, one may add any number of meats, fish,
shellfish or game. Common in Louisiana are rabbit, duck, alligator, venison,
various fish and shellfish, and even nutria. We suggest you have a little fun with
our basic recipe and make an entrée with your choice of one of the above!
Sauce Piquant with Fish Recipe

The Garden District is a neighborhood of the city of New Orleans, situated

within the boundaries of St. Charles Avenue to the north, 1st Street to the east,
Magazine Street to the south and Toledano Street to the west. Developed
between 1832 and 1900, it ranks among the best preserved collections of historic
southern mansions in the United States, its origins illustrating the opulent
structures afforded the prosperous in that era.
The area was once home to plantations, but was later sold off in parcels to the
wealthy who did not want to live within the Quarter with working-class Creoles.
Originally developed with only a couple of mansions per block, each mansion
was surrounded by gardens - hence, the name "Garden District". Today, the
district is known more for its delightful architecture than its gardens.
Area landmarks include the George Washington Cable House, one of the
city‘s most famous restaurants named Commander‘s Palace, Lafayette Cemetery
No. 1, numerous antebellum mansions, and The Rink, a 10th century skating
rink enclosure that now houses a small shopping mall.
As depicted below, The Garden District is not far from the French Quarter,
and is certain to be enjoyed by everyone.
Crust Ingredients:
1 ½ cups all purpose flour

1 ½ tsp thyme leaves
½ tsp salt
¼ cup plain yogurt
Crust Instructions:
Spray a 9" or 10" tart pan with cooking spray, or grease with butter.
In a food processor, pulse flour, thyme and salt until combined.
Add the butter, 1 tbsp at a time, pulsing until incorporated. Add the vegetable oil,
pulsing until combined.
Add the yogurt, pulsing until combined.
Press dough into prepared pan, spreading evenly across the bottom and up the
sides to form a crust.
Bake in oven until set, but not browned (approx 15 minutes).
Let cool on wire rack.
Tart Ingredients:
2 lbs baby Vidalia onions, thinly sliced

3 large eggs
1 cup sour cream (not fat-free)
¼ tsp Tabasco
½ tsp white pepper
¼ tsp salt
1 cup grated Swiss cheese, or grated parmesan (or a combination of both)
Tart Instructions:
Preheat over to 400° F

In large sauce pan, melt butter over medium heat. Add oil, and reduce to medium
low.
Add sliced onions and sauté until golden brown and soft (about 50 minutes),
stirring occasionally to lift the savory brown parts from the bottom and sides.
Whisk together the eggs and sour cream. Add to the sautéed onions.
Season with Tabasco, white pepper and salt.
Pour mixture into prepared tart shell and spread evenly.
Bake at 400° F for 20 minutes.
Remove tart from oven and top with grated cheese(s).
Return to oven, and reduce temp to 350° F.
Bake another 20 minutes, or until cheese melts and browns slightly.
Remove from oven and cool at least 15 minutes before serving.
Cut into 6 - 8 pieces and garnish with fresh parsley, if desired.
Also excellent with cold fruit, such as sliced crisp apples or seedless grapes.
Louisiana Hayride
The city of Shreveport, in northwest Louisiana, was home to the nationally

broadcast weekly radio show, Louisiana Hayride, from its inception in 1948 to
the end of its primary run in 1960. The show was broadcast from the Shreveport
Municipal Memorial Auditorium, and during its heyday, helped to launch the
careers of some of America‘s greatest signing stars. Elvis Presley performed on
the radio program in 1954, and made his first Television appearance on the
show‘s TV version in March of 1955.
The show‘s name was the same as a then popular book describing a political
scandal of the time that sent to prison such notables as the Louisiana State
University president and a Louisiana building superintendent. Not long after its
debut, Louisiana Hayride‘s growing popularity expanded its listening audience
over a twenty-five station network. The show‘s renown even spawned a
Broadway production of the same name, and a TV network produced its own
version, titled, Midwestern Hayride.
Early on, Louisiana Hayride ranked second only to Nashville‘s Grand Ole
Opry. But where the Grand Ole Opry showcased successful stars, Louisiana
Hayride interspersed virtual unknowns, giving future luminaries a large listening
audience they may not have otherwise enjoyed. Country music greats such as
Jimmie Davis, Johnny Horton, Jim Reeves, George Jones, Hank Williams, Faron
Young, Johnny Cash, Tex Ritter and Kitty Wells performed on the show.
When Elvis Presley first appeared on the radio show, he performed one of his
first cuts at Sun Records, "That‘s All Right Mama", and soon after he was signed
to a one-year contract with the show. His new kind of music, called rockabilly,
was actually instrumental in the decline of the show, since its main venue, until
the advent of Presley, had been strictly country. Eventually, rock and roll became
the dominant venue on the radio music scene, and on August 27, 1960,
Louisiana Hayride aired its last primary broadcast. In 2009, the original
Louisiana Hayride show (1948 - 1960) was inducted into the Louisiana Music
Hall of Fame. And just one year earlier (October 7, 2008), the Shreveport
Municipal Auditorium, pictured below, was designated a National Historic
Landmark.
Early on, the show was popularized by the country music it promoted, and
although country music is still popular statewide, Louisiana claims - and more
specifically, the twenty-two parishes that comprise Acadiana - Zydeco as its
native sound.
Shreveport Municipal Auditorium
Check de Boat Trailer Lights
Going fishing, Boudreaux and Thibodeaux decided to check the boat trailer
lights. "How dey do?" asked Boudreaux, pressing the brake.
"Dey work," replied Thibodeaux, eyeing the bright red lights.
Boudreaux toggled the right blinker. "How de rite one do?" he asked.
"It do...it don‘t...it do...it don‘t... it do...it don‘t," Thibodeaux stuttered.

Shrimp and Andouille Jambalaya
Ingredients:
16 medium shrimp, peeled, deveined and cut into three pieces each
¼ cup chopped celery
¼ cup chopped onion
¼ cup chopped red bell pepper
2/3 cup chopped tomatoes
3 bay leaves
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp Tabasco sauce
¾ cup parboiled rice
3 cups chicken stock
½ lb Andouille, thinly sliced or cut into small chunks
½ tsp salt
½ tsp black pepper
Instructions:
Place cut shrimp in a large bowl and season well with Cajun seasoning. Set
aside.
Heat vegetable oil, in a large saucepan, over medium-high heat.
Add celery, onion and bell pepper and sauté 2 minutes.
Add garlic, tomatoes, bay leaves, Worcestershire and Tabasco sauces, and sauté
another 2 minutes.
Add parboiled rice and stir in chicken stock.
Reduce heat to medium and cook about 15 minutes, stirring mixture occasionally
to be sure rice absorbs chicken stock.
Add seasoned shrimp and sliced or chunked Andouille. Cook another 10

minutes, or until shrimp are pink.
Add salt and pepper and stir to combine seasoning.
Add more Cajun seasoning, to taste.
Serve hot. A tasty and colorful compliment is hot, buttered sweet corn-on-the-
cob.
Braggin’ on Their Husbands
Two Cajun wives were bragging on their husbands, The first wife said, "my man
was nuttin‘ when I married ’im, but I seen de potential, and now I‘ve made ’im a
firs‘ class cook, yeh."
"Well," said the second wife, "I‘ve made my man a millionaire!"
"Wad ’e was before?" the first wife asked with amazement.
"A billionaire," said the second wife

The Sallier Oak
The red-running rays of old mother sun were puncturing the placenta mist,
the first green growth of Resurrection Fern springing to life from the limbs of the
sprawling oak. From under the tree‘s protection, Catherine watched as the
nearby lake emerged from the vanishing vapor, the deliverance of day slow-
coaxed from the birthing sky. At any moment now, the dew-laden masts of the
dread corsair might appear, flying the colors of morning - Jean Lafitte, the pirate
of her heart.
Fondling her brooch, Catherine mused on the golden gift that Jean had last
bestowed, its worth beyond all her imagining. And with what daring she wore it,
too, for her husband would be after the brash buccaneer should he learn of the
pirate‘s present. But he was a day‘s horse ride away, a matter of commerce
freeing her latent longing.
As the mist cleared, and the great burning orb shot heat through the arms of
the oak, Catherine turned from the barren lake to maunder about her garden,
each budding plant a mockery of new beginnings. Her husband, Charles Anselm
Sallier, had moved to the lake after her immigrant parents had arrived from
Bordeaux. A new country - old memories - a dashing young man...it had all been
a blur along the promenade of romance, until Jean had brightened the lake - the
lake that bore her husband‘s name: Charlie‘s Lake. But by the flame of dreams,
she saw her life in chains, a commitment to Charles that adventure could not
erase. Oh! If only the morning had spared her its gold, its spreading light, its gift
of promise and hope, she could return to the sedative of semblance, could rely on
the prop of propriety.
Lost in thought, the pounding of a fast approaching horse summoned her to

the moment, to the unexpected appearance of her husband, Charles. Halting
before her, he did not dismount, a glint of sunlight catching her eyes, her sudden
fear, his pistol drawn and pointing, the powder flash a fleeting thought before
she fell. And then he was gone, never to return, certain he had slain his wife. But
no, the brooch had saved her, deflecting the shot to thud harmlessly into the arms
of the Sallier Oak.
Among the many legends of Jean Lafitte is the story related above. What is
fact remains: Lake Charles, Louisiana, is named after Charles Sallier, and the
Sallier Oak is still extant, holding its own through hurricanes and history for
more than 300 years...and perhaps a gunshot or two! Another legend claims that
Lafitte buried treasure in a nearby bayou. The lure of wealth has sparked many
an attempt to find it. And the legend persists, Contraband Bayou, by its very
name, preserving a puzzling past.
The city of Lake Charles celebrates Contraband Days as an annual twelve day
festival. It is among the larger celebrations in the state, with attendance of over
200,000. The pageantry includes Lafitte‘s arrest of the city mayor (whereupon
the mayor is made to walk the plank!), a sailing regatta and a nationally
sanctioned speed boat race, fireworks over the lake, the ubiquitous Cajun
cuisine, and many family oriented competitions, including bathtub races and
crawfish races. The Festival is held during the first two weeks of May.
Cajun Fried Shrimp
Yield: 8 servings
Ingredients:
2 cups whole milk

2 cups buttermilk (preferably not low fat)
1 cup hot sauce (Louisiana or Tabasco)
3 cups all purpose flour
1 ½ cups cornmeal
3 tbsp black pepper
4 tbsp salt
4 lbs medium shrimp, peeled and deveined, tails on
Vegetable oil for frying
Instructions:
Preheat oil to 375° F.
Line a tray or pizza pan with paper towels and set aside.
In a large bowl, whisk milk, buttermilk and hot sauce until combined.
In another large bowl, stir together flour, cornmeal, pepper, salt and Cajun
seasoning.
Pat shrimp dry, then dredge in dry mix first, then wet mix, and then dry mix
again, shaking off excess between each dredging.
Fry in batches for about two minutes, or until golden brown.
Use a slotted spoon or spatula to remove shrimp from oil, and place on paper
towels to drain.
Serve warm with tarter sauce and or cocktail sauce

Surprise Anniversary Gift
Boudreaux decided to get his wife a real surprise for their anniversary,
something she had never had, and definitely something that wasn‘t offered along
the bayou: a milk bath. Giving it some thought, he came up with a plan.
"I wanna give de wife a milk bath for our anniversary," he told his friend,
Fontenot, "an‘ seein‘ as how ya gots de milk cow, der, I tought ya might be
willin‘ to help me wid da milk."
"Sure ting, Boudreaux," Fontenot agreed, "but wad milk ya wanna put in da
battub...pasteurize?"
"Nah, jis so it cover her belly, dat‘s all I want," Boudreaux replied.
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients:
4 thick bone-in center-cut pork chops

1 tsp Kosher salt
¾ cup flour
1 ½ cups chopped onion
½ tbsp fresh marjoram
½ tbsp fresh thyme
1 ½ cups chicken broth (low-sodium)
¾ cup Bulgarian buttermilk
2 cups steamed white rice
Instructions:
Rub the pork chops with the salt and Cajun seasoning.
Pour the flour into a shallow dish.
Dredge both sides of the seasoned chops in the flour and tap to remove any
excess.
Reserve the remaining flour.
In a large iron skillet, heat the vegetable oil over medium heat.
Add the pork chops and cook until browned, about 3 minutes per side.
Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Add the butter, onion, marjoram, thyme and a pinch of salt to the hot skillet.
Cook, stirring occasionally, until the chopped onion is golden brown, 6 to 8

minutes.
Add 3 tablespoons of the reserved flour and stir continuously for 1 minute.
Add the chicken broth and bring to a boil.
Cook until reduced by one-third, about 3 minutes.
Add the buttermilk and the browned chops.
Bring the sauce to a near boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook until the sauce
is thickened and the chops are cooked through, about 8 minutes.
Serve hot with steamed white rice, cornbread and honey butter*
* Honey Butter
Mix thoroughly 1 stick of butter (at room temperature), 3 tbsp honey, 1/8 tsp
cinnamon and dash of salt. Chill slightly before serving.
Caught Fire to My House
One Saturday afternoon Hebert was on his back patio barbequing some yard bird
(dat's chicken 'case y'all Yankees don't knowed dat), and he allowed the fire in
the pit to get out of hand. Before he knew what was happening, the eave of his
house was ablaze. Instantly in action, he grabbed his cell phone from the top of
his beer chest and called the fire department:
"Hey Chief, dis here's Hebert. I dun caught fire to my house , yeh. Can y'all git
here fast?"
Chief Thibodeaux answered immediately, "OK, Hebert, but how we git der?"
Hebert was stunned, but recovering quickly, he yelled, "Mais, Chief, y'all ain't
got dat big red truck no more?"
Maque Choux
with Crawfish Tails
Maque Choux - pronounced: mock shoe - is an oft-served traditional dish in

Acadiana. Usually a side, it can also command entrée status (as our recipe
directs) with additions of bite-sized shellfish, fish filets or chicken. Note: the
recipe photo depicts crawfish tails, the most prevalent of the various choices.
Maque Choux with Crawfish Tails Recipe

The wizened old lady sat quietly on her vine-shaded porch, the chatter of
children, on their way home from school, but a pleasant prod to her memories.
How long had it been, she mused, not so very long, really...like the Bible story of
Jacob, toiling seven years in the fields to earn the hand of his beloved Rachel,
his wife-to-be...the story telling how just the thought of her made the years seem
as days. Ahhh...how true...how love seemed to smooth the edges, erase the scars,
stretch the promise of tomorrow exquisitely across the years....
"Hello, Mrs. Prejean...are you faring well today?" The pleasant voice seemed
far away, then nearer, as she slowly came back to the moment, to the cheerful
presence of her new neighbor, young and busy with little ones. "I saw you sitting
there, while I was watching for my boys, and I thought I'd offer you a plate of
shrimp creole for your dinner."
"Oh! How kind of you...how kind, indeed. Why, that was my Joseph's
favorite dinner," Mrs. Prejean replied, sharing a bit of herself with the young
mother, "I had shrimp creole waiting for my husband every Friday night, when
he came in from work. And it was our son's favorite, too."
"I didn't know you had a son," the young mother said, turning to look down
the street for the approach of her schoolboys, "I thought you were childless...I
knew you were a widow, of course; but that's nice to know - you have a son to
visit you once in awhile."
Mrs. Prejean turned in her old wicker rocker to gaze in the direction her
neighbor was looking, espying the two young lads running towards their mother,
the excitement of the moment negating the need of reply. "I'll send one of the
boys over later with your dinner," the young lady called over her shoulder,
greeting her boys with a hug, "when my husband's home," she added, following
her boys next door.
How well do I remember those well-spent days, Mrs. Prejean reflected, the
joy of a little one coming home to share his lessons, the peace of family when
Joseph was in for the evening...and then it was over - and with such a
suddenness - first, the passing of our little one, and then my Joseph...my Joseph.
The grandfather clock was striking six when Mrs. Prejean heard the timid
knock. "Come in, my dear," she said, a motherly pat on the youngster's shoulder
putting him at ease, "I was telling your mother...." Looking at the boy - smiling
demurely as he extended the covered dish - made any explanation of her
partiality to shrimp creole unnecessary; after all, what could a child know of
death? Even her son had not the time to consider. It had happened too
quickly...before his seventh birthday...never knew of his present, the red Schwinn
bicycle hidden away in the garage loft...even Joseph avoiding its removal for
fear of a fresh flow of tears. "I don't think I've ever seen you on a bicycle," she
said, accepting the dish - the suddenness of her observation a surprise to both of
them.
"No ma'am, you haven't...not here, anyway," his smile disappearing, his voice
trailing off as though reminded of some recent wrong. "My brother has one, but
mine was stolen just before we moved here. Daddy says I'll get a new one for my
birthday," he appended, smiling anew.
"And that is?" Mrs. Prejean asked, turning to place her dinner on a lamp table
by the door.
"Oh, my birthday is this summer - July, when school's out," he explained, the
joy of expectancy dancing in his bright blue eyes.
"July!" Mrs. Prejean exclaimed, "at your age, that's a long time to wait. Tell
you what," she said, pausing a moment to find the right way to phrase her
thought, "ask your mother to stop by here tomorrow...I'll have her dinner plate
washed and-and maybe even a few pecan sandies for you and your brother,"
"Wow!" he answered eagerly, the word explicit with gratitude.
The next afternoon seemed a continuum of days-gone-by, the old wicker

rocker, with its gray-haired occupant, still-framed between vine-covered lattice.
"Hello, Mrs. Prejean...are you faring well today?" This time she was ready,
expecting, her imaginative plan all aglow.
"Your shrimp creole was divine," Mrs. Prejean replied, getting up from her
rocker, "and your little messenger, an angel. I have your plate just inside," she
went on, "and I've wrapped some pecan sandies for the boys."
"They were hoping you wouldn't forget," the neighbor said, "that's all they
could talk about when they left for school this morning. 'Don't forget to go get
your plate', they told me, meaning something else entirely, of course."
"And how could I forget," Mrs. Prejean responded, the glisten of tears in her
eyes, "I would be remiss if I didn't remember to tell you to send your husband
over this evening. I have a brand new Schwinn, still in its box up over the
garage, just waiting for a boy's adventure."
"Mrs. Prejean! I...well...I can't let you do that," the young mother protested,
noting the tears in the old ladies eyes. "Or...or, perhaps I should," she added,
placing the cookies on the rocker and reaching to give her a hug.
"Someday...someday I'll tell you why," Mrs. Prejean whispered, embarrassed

by her own tears, "someday, while we watch the lad ride," she added, looking off
into the distance as though the thought were a current event.
Classic Red Schwinn
Shrimp Creole
Yield: 8 servings
Ingredients:

½ cup chopped onions
½ cup chopped red pepper
1 tsp chili powder
2 bay leaves
1 8 oz can tomato sauce
1 28 oz can diced tomatoes
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp Tabasco sauce
1 tsp sugar
Salt and pepper to taste
1½ lbs peeled and deveined shrimp
4 cups steamed rice for serving
Chopped chives for garnish
Instructions:
Place a large pot, with the vegetable oil, over medium-high heat.
Add onions, celery and red pepper. Cook 3 minutes, or until softened.
Add chili powder. Stir well and cook another 3 minutes.
Add Cajun spice, bay leaves, tomato sauce, tomatoes, Worcestershire sauce,
Tabasco sauce, sugar, salt and pepper.
Stir to combine and bring to the beginning of a boil.
Reduce to simmer and cook, covered, for 1 hour, stirring occasionally to scrape
the caramelization from the bottom of the pan.
Add shrimp and cook another 3 minutes, or until shrimp or pink and firm.
Remove from heat.
Remove bay leaves and serve over steamed rice.
Garnish with chopped chives.

Billy Dee Becomes a Catholic
A few years back a Texan named Billy Dee moved to the Acadian town of St
Martinville, a mostly Catholic settlement with the picturesque Bayou Teche
meandering through its corporate limits. As one might expect, with the town
being predominantly Catholic, the Holy Days of Lent were strictly observed,
limiting Fridays to the consumption of seafood.
As any good Texan knows, everyday is a good day for bar-b-que, and with that
in mind, Billy Dee proceeded to establish his pit in the center of his backyard,
where, everyday after work - including Fridays - he fired up a rack of succulent
pork ribs that tantalized and tempted the good Catholics in the whole of his
neighborhood. In fact, it was such a disturbing temptation that the good people
of St Martinville decided to speak with their parish Priest about the Texan's
blatant disregard for their cherished religious tradition.
The Priest promised to intervene, and paid Billy Dee a visit. Wishing to placate
his neighbors, Billy Dee, a lifelong Baptist, agreed to become a Catholic. After
much study and instruction, Billy Dee attended mass, and as the priest sprinkled
holy water over him, Billy Dee heard him say, "You were born a Baptist, raised a
Baptist, but now you are a Catholic."
When the news spread that Billy Dee had been seen at mass, the neighborhood
was much relieved...until the next Friday evening came around. There Billy Dee
was again, grilling and basting a big rack of ribs, his aromatic bar-b-que sauce
wafting as Satan's wand over the souls of the drooling sufferers.
The Priest was called immediately, and as he rushed to the Texan's back yard,
clutching a rosary and preparing to scold, he stopped in amazement at the sight
of Billy Dee, sprinkling a small bottle of holy water over the ribs, and reciting,
"you were born a pig, raised a pig, but now you are a Catholic!"
Yield: 4 Servings
Pictured: Fried catfish filets, tarter sauce, coleslaw, fried okra, sweet potato
fries and hushpuppies
Ingredients:
4 fresh catfish filets (6 to 8 ounces)

2 tbsp Cajun Seasoning - divided
1/3 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp Tabasco sauce
4 tbsp chopped parsley - divided
1/3 cup flour
1 cup cornmeal
1 tsp salt
1 ½ cup vegetable oil
Chopped parsley for garnish
Lemon wedges and tarter sauce for serving
Instructions:
Place the catfish filets in a shallow dish.
Season with 1 tbsp of Cajun spice, and add lemon juice, Tabasco sauce, 2 tbsp
parsley and garlic.
Flip the filets several times to coat evenly.
Leave in dish and allow filets to stand at room temperature for five to ten
minutes.
Meanwhile, combine the flour, cornmeal, salt and 1 tbsp Cajun spice in a
shallow dish.
Remove the filets from the lemon juice mixture and dredge both sides in the
flour mix. Set aside.
Heat the oil in a large cast iron skillet over medium-high heat.
When the oil has reached 350° F, add the filets, 2 at a time, and fry until golden
brown, turning once (about 3½ minutes per side).
Remove filets from the skillet and drain on paper towels.
Garnish with remaining parsley and serve with lemon wedges and tarter sauce.
The Anniversary
Professor Matthew Beauregard was not one to be melancholy, his memories

fairly brimming with scenes of connubial bliss, parental pride and university
accolades. But today, all of the best could not sum to the total of his
despondency. It was the first anniversary without the cynosure of his life‘s
celebration, his helpmate of sixty-three years gone on to await his arrival.
Wiping a tear from his cheek, he reached for the dark-framed photo of the
smiling girl so flawlessly beautiful in the white of her wedding gown. I shouldn‘t
have, he thought, blinking more tears from his worshipping eyes, I should call
one of the children, inquire of the grandkids...anything to get my mind around
the morning...but my heart...my heart is elsewhere...missing the peace of a
mutual trust that never once has failed...not will it ever, he mused, the eternality
of our oneness bound in silver threads of days and nights, of months and years
well-spent.
Gazing wistfully at her image, he noticed something he had never seen

before: the faded tip of a piece of paper protruding from behind the photograph.
Removing the back of the frame, he pulled the paper out from between the photo
and its matting.
Cautiously, so as not to tear the mysterious message at its folds, he opened it
to read:
Matthew, should you linger at my passing, may your recollections be as Lord

Byron penned, his verse a seal to all that was, and all that still shall be; for love
can not be severed...not even by death!
Your Faithful Wife,

Madelaine
And as he read the verse which she had treasured, his tears were dried, his
hope renewed, his day refreshed with the nourishment of love‘s continuing:
O talk not to me of a name great in story:

The days of our youth are the days of our glory;
And myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty
Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled?

Tis but a dead flower with May-dew besprinkled:
Then away with all such from the head that is hoary-
What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory?
O fame---if I e‘er took delight in thy praises,

Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases,
Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover
She thought that I was not unworthy to love her.
There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee,
Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee;
When it sparkled o‘er aught that was bright in my story,
I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory.
Creole Red Snapper
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients:
3 purple onions, thinly sliced

2 tbsp tomato paste
3 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp Tabasco sauce
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp sugar
2 tbsp unsalted butter for sautéing fish
4 fresh red snapper filets
4 tbsp fresh chopped parsley for garnish
Instructions:
Prepare onions and set aside.
Stir together garlic, tomato paste, olive oil, Tabasco and Worcestershire sauces,
Cajun spice and sugar.
Pour ½ of the mixture over the filets.
Top with ½ of the sliced onions.
Cover and chill in refrigerator for 5 hours.
Cover remaining sliced onions and keep in refrigerator for use when cooking
filets.
Add butter to large sauté pan and melt over medium high heat.
Remove filets from chilled mixture, and cook, along with remaining sliced
onions, for about 6 minutes, or until flesh is cooked through, turning once.
In a separate pan, warm remaining ingredient mixture and serve over cooked
filets.
Top with sautéd onions and fresh parsley.

Candles for Charles
"Have you ever suffered the insanity of laughter, perhaps the muted broadcast
of a television comedy, the characters unheard, only the laughter erupting in
rhythmic bursts of tumultuous, mirthless nonsense - akin to the lonely torture of
the deaf, the movement and expression of humankind in silent mystery played?"
"What kind of question is that?" Amelia asked, the sulfurous smell of her
striking match causing Charles to hold his breath.
"Detached...separated...repulsed...like the acrid smell of your match, the very

strike that would set the candle aflame becoming the veil that hides it," Charles
continued, extemporizing flaccidly. "That‘s how I feel now. Just hours ago, I was
a part of it all: the azure sky at the set of sun, the temperate breeze that cooled
the last of the workday cares - even you, Amelia, no...especially you...that little
catch in your breath when I entered the house, your sudden smile, the drop of
your eyes that caressed me like a prayer...and then...then you reminded me."
The candle fluttered, growing to a waltzing flame that shadowed the walls
with imaginings. "It wasn‘t intentional," Amelia offered docilely, leaving the
table to retrieve the pitcher of sun-brewed tea she hoped would restore their
cheer. "It was coincidence, a candlelight dinner-"
"Stop!" Charles interrupted, brandishing his hands as though to ward off

attack. "It‘s forgotten now. Oh, and look what you have there, just what a tired
husband needs to revive his spirits," the warm tea cracking the ice in his glass as
she poured.
The candlelit dinner behind them, Charles took his wife by the hand, leading
her out to the back screened porch to sit in the light of the stars. "You‘re an
angel, Amelia," he said, his wondering gaze fixed on the rising moon, large and
yellow through the pines, "just your nearness puts me at rest. I‘ll never
understand it, nor need I, darling. All I am certain of is that I am the most
fortunate man alive to know such peace."
His words were comforting, timely, an unseen tear warming Amelia‘s cheek.
It was true, she loved her man, and not only did she love him, she prayed
incessantly for another child, another chance to see the pride in her husband‘s
eyes.
A month had passed and still the memory of that candlelight dinner haunted
her thoughts. How could she not have foreseen what it would do to Charles,
bringing to mind that little casket, the sickening sweet of wreaths and
sprays...the flickering candles akin to the fragility of life, the finality of death.
But tonight was redeeming: three candles in an arrangement of fresh snipped

baby‘s breath - the flower of happiness - the table set with their best china and
cutlery, and on his plate, an exquisitely inscribed card announcing her
pregnancy.
Should she wait at the door? No, she would light the candles as he entered the
room in search of her...he would be calling her name...calling her...his
beloved...his wife, mother of his child...her child...their child - and he was there,
staring in amazement, knowing, by her radiance, that their lives had been blessed
beyond their wildest imaginings.
Cajun Blackened Catfish
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients:
4 6oz catfish filets

4 tbsp butter, melted
1 tsp paprika
½ tsp garlic powder
½ tsp onion powder
½ tsp black pepper
½ tsp red pepper
½ tsp red pepper
½ tsp dried thyme
½ tsp dried marjoram
¼ tsp salt
Instructions:
In a shallow dish, combine the spices to make a rub.
Brush both sides of filets with the melted butter and coat both sides with the
spice rub.
Set a large iron skillet over high heat and place filets in unoiled skillet. Drizzle
remaining butter over filets.
Depending on thickness of filets, cook over high heat, uncovered, for 2-3
minutes per side, or, until blackened and fish flakes with a fork.
Serve with tarter sauce.

Boudreaux‘s Short Term Memory Loss
Clotille had been complaining of Boudreaux‘s short term memory loss. She
would send him to the store for bread and he would gas up the pickup, instead.
The problem had to be addressed, so she made him an appointment to see the
doctor...and drove him there in case he forgot where he was going.
"Mais, wad de problem, Doc?" he asked, after a physical and thorough

consultation.
"We‘ll have to do some tests to be sure, but you have two problems: it appears
you have a rare form of cancer, Boudreaux, and the early stages of Alzheimer‘s,
as well," the doctor replied sadly.
"Whew!" Boudreaux said with relief, "it could be worse, Doc...me, I could have
cancer!"
Origin of the Po‘Boy
The po‘boy is universally known as a sandwich from Louisiana, more

specifically, New Orleans. It is served on a baguette with a crisp crust and fluffy
center, and traditionally enfolds fried fish, shrimp, crawfish, oysters, chicken, or
meat of some kind. Fully dressed, a po‘boy will have lettuce, tomato,
mayonnaise, pickles and onions, as well as one or more seafood or meat choices,
and the French bread will be toasted. Made to order, the sandwich is almost
always served hot.
There are many claims as to the origin of the po‘boy, but the prevailing one is
that the sandwich evolved from a restaurant owned by Benny and Clovis Martin,
brothers who had previously been New Orleans‘ streetcar conductors. As the
story goes, the brothers gave free food to their former co-workers on the
streetcar line when those workers were on strike. The year was 1929, and by the
end of the four month strike, the Martin Brothers‘ restaurant crew was referring
to the strikers as "Poor boys", referencing their lack of income as well as their
dependence on the benevolently dispensed sandwiches. It was the Louisiana
dialect that shortened the term to "Po‘boys".
New Orleans enjoys world renown for its grand cuisine, but it is the po‘boy
that has the greatest impact on the local diet, and that, amazingly, in the era of
fast foods. In fact, in New Orleans, po‘boys are eaten for lunch more than any
other single dish.
New Orleans Po‘Boy:

To build an authentic po‘boy, the bread must be a baguette of French bread,
sliced lengthwise and toasted. Beyond this, the variations are infinite. Included
in this cookbook edition are recipes for fried shrimp, fried catfish and fried
alligator (or chicken nuggets). Other popular fillers are fried crawfish and fried
oysters. And thinly sliced roast beef and ham are two other choices, although the
roast beef versions usually include a little hot beef gravy over the meat slices.
Whatever you select, the sandwich is tasty and filling, the toasted baguette
setting the stage for perfection!
Yield: 4 Po‘Boys
For the Crawfish
Ingredients:
¼ cup whole milk

¼ cups buttermilk
2 tbsp hot sauce (Louisiana or Tabasco)
6 tbsp all purpose flour
3 tbsp cornmeal
1 tsp black pepper
½ tsp salt
½ lb crawfish tails
Vegetable oil for frying
Instructions:
Preheat oil to 375 degrees F.
Line a tray or pizza pan with paper towels and set aside.
In a large bowl, whisk milk, buttermilk and hot sauce until combined.
In another large bowl, stir together flour, cornmeal, pepper, salt and Cajun
Seasoning.
Dredge crawfish tails in dry mix first, then wet mix, then dry mix again.
Fry for about two minutes, or until golden brown. Use a slotted spoon or spatula
to remove crawfish tails from oil, and place on paper towels to drain.
For the Po‘Boys
Ingredients:
2 baguettes, 12" long, sliced lengthwise, then cut in half to form 4 Po‘Boys
½ pound fried crawfish
2/3 cup Remoulade Sauce
Sliced tomatoes to suit
Lettuce to suit
Cajun Seasoning to taste
Potato chips
Instructions:
Place sliced baguette halves on baking tray and bake until slightly browned.
Spread Remoulade Sauce evenly over four bottom slices of baguette.
Arrange fried crawfish over Remoulade Sauce.
Arrange lettuce pieces over crawfish and sprinkle with Cajun Seasoning, to taste.
Arrange lettuce leaves over tomato slices.
Cover with remaining toasted baguette slices and serve with potato chips, pickle,
or side of your choice.
Boudreaux and Thibodeaux are walking along the bayou, when Boudreaux
notices a compact in the grass. He picks it up, opens it and looks in the mirror:
"Hmm, dis fella look familiar," he says.
Thibodeaux replies, "Boudreaux, let me see dat." Thibodeaux takes the compact,
looks in the mirror and laughs, "Wad-a dummy, Boudreaux, of course dis fella‘s
familiar, it‘s me!"
After Hurrican Katrina‘s devastation, Hebert drove his pick-um-up truck to New
Orleans and offered his expertise on rebuilding the city: "Me, I tink de firs‘ ting
we need to do here is to put up a hurricane fence!"
Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients:
1 lb fettuccini
4 tbsp salt
1 cup finely chopped onion
1 tbsp diced jalapeno peppers
12 oz heavy cream
8 oz diced tomatoes, drained
8 tbsp water from pasta pot
2 lbs medium shrimp, shelled and deveined
1 cup chopped chives
¼ cup grated Parmesan
3 tbsp chopped fresh parlsey
Instructions:
Bring water to boil in a large pot (follow instructions on fettuccini package).
Add salt and fetticinni, cooking until pasta reaches al dente stage (still a little
stiff, but almost cooked through).
Using a large sauté pan, set over medium-high heat, melt butter and sauté the
onions and jalapeno peppers 4 minutes, or until the onions are slightly
caramelized.
Add the minced garlic and sauté an additional 1 minute. Add the cream and 2 tsp
Cajun spice and cook 3 minutes, or until the cream is reduced by half.
Add the tomatoes, fettuccini, 8 tbsp pasta water, remaining 2 tsp Cajun spice,
and the shrimp.
Cook 5 minutes, or until the shrimp are pink and firm, stirring to combine.
Remove from heat and add the chives, Parmesan and parsley, tossing to blend.
Serve immediately.
Swan Song?
Adapted from the author’s novel, Twice Melvin
Young Vincent had tried, unsuccessfully, to direct his thoughts to matters

large at hand: his university studies, his part-time employment with the Daily
News, his future...but that‘s where he digressed every time, his future burning
bright by another‘s lamp - the lamp of love. And so, today he would pay the
Daily News to print his verse, his heart‘s refrain to make the world his choral
cry. If she read his plea with like affection, his life would bloom with promise
yet to be; if not...well, such were the shames of the dark unknown.
And so he wrote, dismantling his heart for all to see, for all to know his fait
accompli:
You are unto yourself what you would be;

But unto me that which you are.
Pray bright may burn your guiding star
To lead you to that end that ends with me.
Pray Great One who from naught envisioned all,

May all be seen in nothing me.
Pray precious one by love to see
My naught loom large in matters great and small.
Pray too that ever I adornment be,
Gold clasp to hold the vestment true;
Pray then that I in answer to
The why of we, make plain: twas meant to be.
You are unto yourself what you would be;

But unto me that which you are.
Pray look beyond your neither, nor;
Past rule‘s exception to discover - me!
Recipe Category
Cajun Rice and Eggs
Bayou Banana Bread
Three Cheese Grits

You Are My Sunshine
"You Are My Sunshine" is a well-remembered song first recorded in 1939,

and since declared one of the state songs of Louisiana as a result of its
association with former state governor and country music singer Jimmie Davis.
James Houston Davis (September 11, 1899 - November 5, 2000), better

known as Jimmie Davis, was a noted singer of both sacred and popular songs.
He served two nonconsecutive terms as the 47th Governor of Louisiana (1944-
1948 and 1960-1964). Davis was a nationally known popular singer from the
1930‘s, and into the 1960‘s, occasionally recording and performing as late as the
1990‘s. He is a member of the Country Music Hall of Fame and The Louisiana
Music Hall of Fame.
Jimmie Davis was a singer of rural music before he entered politics. His early
work mimicked the already successful Jimmie Rodgers, and he was known for
recording rhythmic and raunchy tunes like "Red Nightgown Blues". During his
first run for governor, opponents reprinted the lyrics of some of these songs in
order to discredit Davis‘s campaign. At one event, Davis‘s opponents played
some of the records over an outdoor speaker system, but later relented when the
crowds began dancing, enjoying the music and ignoring the ambiguous lyrics.
Jimmie Davis became known as the "singing governor", often singing to the
crowds during his campaign stops. While governor, he had a No. 1 hit single
with "There‘s a New Moon Over My Shoulder". Davis recorded for Decca
Records and released over 40 albums. A member of the Baptist faith, he also
recorded Southern gospel albums, and in 1967 served as president of the Gospel
Music Association. A close friend of the band leader Lawrence Welk, Gov.
Davis was frequently mentioned on the nationally televised program, Mr. Welk
making his viewers repeatedly aware of the friendship the two men shared.
Jimmie Davis died on November 5, 2000. He was 101 years and 55 days old,
which made him, at the time of his death, the longest-lived of all U.S. governors.
He held this record until March 18, 2011, when former Gov. Albert Rosellini, of
Washington State, achieved a greater lifespan of 101 years and 56 days,
outliving Gov. Davis by just one day.
Louisianans remember Governor Davis for riding his horse, Sunshine, up the
marble steps of the capital building in Baton Rouge. An irony, indeed, since
Jimmie Davis introduced, in his first term as governor, the Louisiana state law
that requires drivers to be licensed in order to operate a motor vehicle!
And, with the state of Louisiana receiving an annual rainfall of over 60", what
better legacy could The Singing Governor leave his constituents than: You are
my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when the skies are grey - .
Cajun Grits
with
Shrimp and Bacon
Ingredients:
1 pint shrimp stock and 1 pint water (see first recipe in this cookbook), or 1 quart
water*
1 cup stone-ground grits (not quick or instant)
½ tsp salt
½ tsp black pepper
4 tbsp butter
2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese
5 slices smoked bacon, chopped
1 pound med shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 cup thinly sliced scallions
1 minced garlic clove
1/3 tsp Tabasco
3 tbsp fresh chopped parsley, divided
Juice of one large lemon
Note: If using water only, add ¼ tsp ground thyme when sautéing shrimp mix.
Instructions:
Bring stock (or water) to a boil.
Stir in grits, salt and pepper, being sure there are no lumps.
Simmer, covered, for 20-25 minutes, or until all liquid is absorbed.
Remove from heat and stir in butter and cheese.
While grits are cooking, peel and devein shrimp. Rinse and pat dry.
Fry bacon until crisp. Reserve bacon drippings in skillet.
Pat cooked bacon dry, then cut or crumble into small pieces.
Place shrimp in bacon drippings and cook over med heat until just beginning to
turn pink.
Add scallions, garlic, Tabasco and ½ of the chopped parsley.
Sauté for another 3 minutes or until shrimp are firm and entirely pink.
Pour shrimp mixture over cooked grits.
Squeeze lemon juice over shrimp mix and garnish with bacon pieces and
remaining parsley.
Serve immediately.
"We should change our name to Mr. and Mrs. Lost," Calvin remarked, a
growing dreariness flattening his tone. "First, I lost my job, then you lost your
car, and now we may lose our house. After that, what‘s left to lose but each
other?" he asked his wife, Hannah, as she divided the skillet of hot rice and egg.
"Before we lose each other, Calvin, we would have to lose our faith," she
retorted with the ring of reproach, "and I‘m not going to do that...not now, not
ever!" she added dramatically, plopping his half-filled plate of steaming rice and
egg on the barren table. "Why don‘t we make a list?" she suggested, taking her
place at the table and slowly shoving her half-serving in his direction.
"That‘s what I was doing," Calvin replied morosely, unaware of her slow-
motion gift.
"No, I mean a list of our blessings," she corrected, getting up for a pad and
pen. "Here...you eat, I‘ll write," she said briskly, sitting down with her weapons
of choice. "First on the list is our belief that God makes everything work for our
good," she began, writing His Will across the top of the page.
"Okay," Calvin agreed reluctantly, "but to be realists, let‘s list our problems,
as well."
Dutifully, she wrote Previous Job on the left and Better Job on the right.
"There," she said, pushing the pad across the table for his perusal, "will that do?"
"Characteristic Hannah," he muttered, shoving the pad back. "Lost job

becomes previous job? Okay, I‘ll accept that, since the whole incident was more
complex than one man‘s job; a national construction firm going bankrupt forced
thousands out of work. But how can you note replacement job as better job?" he
asked grumpily, reaching for her rice and egg with apparent ignorance of its
origin.
"Because we began with His Will," she explained, with a look of incredulity.
"How could it be otherwise?"
"Dunno," Calvin mumbled, mindlessly consuming the second small serving

of breakfast.
"Well, if that‘s our premise, then what follows is a certainty," she continued,
her sudden smile having its effect. "I find a happy expectancy just in listing the
good things to come," she quipped, writing better house in bold script.
His interest piqued, Calvin leaned forward to read her words. "What
happened to Second Car," he asked, "and what do you mean by Better House?"
"Maybe we don‘t really need a second car," Hannah explained, "maybe the
better job will come with a car...or truck...and any house that‘s paid for is a
better house, whether it‘s our current house or another one. And," she
extemporized, "let‘s add your cell phone, a probable requisite of your next
employment."
Her fervor was contagious, Calvin leaning back in his chair with the
semblance of a smile. "To quote Saint Paul‘s Agrippa, almost thou persuadest
me, my darling."
"To which Saint Paul replied, I would to God that thou...were almost and
altogether such as I am, except these bonds," she replied, laughing, "and I am
doing my utmost to free you of your bonds!"
"That you are, Hannah, and I love you for it," he affirmed, the truth of his
claim apparent in his regard, his attention now acute. "But, back to your
list...why the cell phone?"
"Because, until a better media is invented - and I believe it will be, if only
because it will be better" she added with a chuckle, "we need connection to our
world, a means of receiving what may be sent our way."
"What may be sent our way?" he said quizzically, "I‘m not getting your-" the
ring of his cell phone interrupting the matters-at-hand, his hearty "Hello"
inaugurating an awakening of his entire being: first, a light across his
countenance, then an excitement in his frame, Calvin erupting from his chair to
pace the floor with a cheerful animation Hannah hadn‘t witnessed in weeks. And
when at last the conversation was at end, he couldn‘t sit down, his excitement
garbling his attempt to explain:
"One of my ex-employer‘s customers...wants me to oversee...expanding

franchise stores...guarantees me more than twice...more than...more...Oh,
Hannah!" he cried, grabbing her up in his arms, "how could you know...how, my
sweet, darling wife...my bonds...they‘re gone...I‘m free! I‘m Free!" he shouted,
holding her out at arm‘s length to better display his joy.
"I didn‘t know anything, Calvin," she demurred, glowing in his arms, "I just
knew that our Father would supply our needs, whatever they may be. But now,"
she added, laughing merrily, "now that we consider the supply, the immensity of
our need amazes me!"
"Lord, thank you!" he said, laughing with her, "and before I forget," he
continued, "there‘s a bonus...a-n-n-n-d...a company vehicle!"
"But of course!" she cried, "and now, for the grand finale!" Taking both of her
husband‘s hands, she knelt, pulling him down to join her. "Dear Father," she
began, lifting her eyes to gaze beyond the visible, "Calvin and I begin this new
journey by humbling ourselves in the admission that we can do nothing without
You; all that we are, all that we have, all that we may accomplish, is a gift of
your Providence. By this acknowledgment, may we return your blessings to be
multiplied for the benefit of others, and to the glory of your Name. Amen."
"Amen," Calvin repeated, wiping tears from his upturned face, "and thank
you, Father, for the angel you have given me for a wife."
"Now," Hannah said, after a moment of mutual reflection, "where were

we...oh, I remember...we were listing our blessings...the blessings of Mr. and
Mrs. Found!"
Cajun Rice and Eggs
A Cajun Breakfast Tradition
With rice served most everyday, it follows that Acadians would discover
ways to use yesterday‘s leftover rice at breakfast. The recipe below is a
simplification deduced from the amalgam of many variations. The recipe is one
remembered from childhood: the enticing aromas of frying bacon, slow-dripping
chicory coffee, and not infrequently, the welcoming scent of oven toasted
leftover French bread lathered with garlic and sweet cream butter.
What you will need to serve four:
8 to 10 slices of smoked bacon

½ cup chopped red bell pepper
½ cup chopped green bell pepper
Approximately 4 cups of cooked, leftover white rice
6 whole eggs
1/3 cup heavy cream
1 tsp Tabasco sauce or Louisiana hot sauce
2 tsp Cajun seasoning
Salt and black pepper
½ cup chopped green onions
Instructions:
In a large iron skillet, fry bacon until crisp enough to crumble into small bits.
Set crumbled bacon aside and drain most of the bacon fat from the pan, leaving
approximately three tablespoons to sauté peppers.
Sauté red and green bell peppers in bacon fat for two minutes.
Remove from heat.
In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, cream, your choice of hot sauce and Cajun
seasoning.
Add rice and crumbled bacon bits, stirring until rice is separated and evenly
coated by the egg mix.
Pour mix into iron skillet, stirring to incorporate peppers, and cook over medium
heat, stirring frequently and scraping mixture from bottom of pan to prevent
burning.
When mixture begins to dry (begins to glaze like soft-scrambled eggs), add salt
and pepper to taste.
Remove from heat and serve immediately on breakfast plates.
Garnish with chopped green onions and include your choice of toasted muffins
or bread, hot coffee, and/or cold milk.
C'est si bon! (It‘s so good!)

Make Noise Like a Frog
Boudreaux's little boy asked his daddy, "Poppa, can you make a noise like a
frog?"
Boudreaux replied, thoughtfully, "Mais, yah...but why ya wants me t'make noise

like a frog?"
"Cause Momma tol' me dat soon as you croaks, we goin' to Disneyland!"

Bayou Banana Bread
Be sure to read Bread of Belief Story
A compliment to breakfast or tea time snack, Banana Bread is a perennial

southern favorite. Our recipe calls for chopped dates and a good mix of walnuts
and pecans, the latter giving it the Cajun seal of approval. Try it warm, with a pat
of unsalted, sweet cream butter...and breakfast will be a sweet memory for the
rest of your day.
Bayou Banana Bread Recipe

An elderly Boudreaux returned home from a round of golf, and his wife, Clotille,
asked him how his game went. "Mais, I was hittin‘ de ball good, but my old
eyes, dey gone bad on me. I couldn‘t see where de ball went."
"Next time, take your fren Thibodeuax wid ya," Clotille advised, pouring her
man a tall glass of tea.
"Hmmm, but Clotille," he mused aloud, "Thibodeaux is older dan me."
"Mais, yeh," Clotille replied, "but his eyes, dey a lot better dan yours. He can
watch where de ball goes, an‘ tell ya."
"Yeh," Boudreaux agreed, "good tought. I‘ll take him wid me next time."
And so it was that, as Boudreaux hit his best tee shot in years, he turned with
confidence to his good fren Thibodeaux. "See dat, my fren?" he asked, secretly
thinking of Clotille and her sound advice.
"Mais, yeh," Thibodeaux replied, "dat was one good shot, yeh."
"Glad ya tink dat, Thibodeaux," Boudreaux said proudly, "now, tell me where it
went."
"I forgot," Thibodeaux mumbled.
Boudreaux, Thibodeaux and Hebert were boasting how they were the boss at
their respective homes. As Thibodeaux and Hebert continued bragging,
Boudreaux became quiet, a sheepish look giving him away.
"Wad de matter, Boudreaux," Hebert asked, "ye dun run outta tings to tell?
"Mais, no, my frens, me, I jist bein‘ quiet," Boudreaux replied, folding his hands
and looking at the floor.
"Nah, dat ain‘t like you, Boudreaux," Thibodeaux prodded, "When‘s de last time
you de boss?"
"Let me tol y‘all," Boudreaux responded, Thibodeaux raising his ire, "de utter
nite, Clotille, she came to me on her hands and knees, yeh."
"An‘ wad she say?" Hebert queried, joining in the fun.
"Mais, dat‘s when she tol me, ‘git out from under dat bed, you coward, an‘ come
out here an‘ fight wid me like a man!‘"
Three Cheese Grits
Three Cheese Grits is an attempt to convert a great dish into a superb one,
and we think the addition of three popular cheeses to the southern breakfast
requisite of hot, steaming grits does just that. If you have sampled grits before
with a degree of apathy, be prepared for a surprise: this dish has attention-
grabbing flavor!
Three Cheese Grits Recipe

Texan & His Sprawling Ranch Boudreaux was sitting on his front porch when
a pickup drove up his drive and a man stepped out. The stranger introduced
himself to Boudreaux, adding that he was from Texas, and that he was gathering
information about land along the bayou.
The Texan asked, "Mr. Boudreaux, how much land do you have here?"
Boudreaux answered, proudly, "Mais, I gots about two acres here."
The Texan smiled sympathetically. "That's not much land, Mr. Boudreaux," he
replied, "why, back at my spread in Texas, it takes me all day just to drive my
truck down the drive from my house and out to the county road that runs along
my sprawling ranch."
Boudreaux thought a moment, then quipped, "Yeah, I had a truck like dat one
time, but I traded it for a better one, yeh."
Clotille Was Going Deaf
In the privacy of the bedroom, Boudreaux phoned his doctor to tell him that
Clotille was going deaf.
"Well Boudreaux, how bad is it?" the doctor asked.
"Mais, Doc, I don't know, but she don't seem to hear me at all. Wads de best way
to find out?"
"Boudreaux," the Doc instructed, "go stand about 20 feet behind her and say
something in your regular tone of voice. If she doesn't respond, then move up 10
feet and try again. If she still doesn't respond, move 5 feet closer and try again. If
you still don't get a response, move right up behind her and try."
So Boudreaux walked towards the kitchen where his wife was washing dishes.
Standing in the doorway, he judged he was about 20 feet behind her. "Wad we
havin' for dinner?" he asked, speaking normally.
He heard no response, so he moved up 10 feet and asked again. Still no response,

so he moved up to within 5 feet of her and asked again, "Wad we havin' for
dinner?" Nothing! "Huh, it worse dan I tought," Boudreaux said to himself.
Moving right up behind her now, he put his arms around her and asked a fourth
time, "Wad we havin' for dinner?"
His wife turned around in his arms and said, "Boudreaux, for de fourth time, I
said we's havin' chicken gumbo!"
Be sure to read Article about St. Louis Cathedral and Jackson Square
Most French Quarter visitors have fallen prey to the bewitching aroma of hot
beignets and café au lait, leaving with that haunting wish to recreate the
"moment". The moment has arrived! Try our recipe for breakfast or afternoon
pick-me-up - either event an epicurean delight. And, we might add, an event to
be shared.
Beignets & Café au lait Recipes

Boudreaux and The Game Warden
Boudreaux was stopped by a game warden in the Atchafalaya basin. The game
warden asked, "Do you have a license to catch those buckets of Bass you have
there?"
"No, sir!" Boudreaux replied, "dese here my pet fish."
"Pet fish?" the warden asked, smiling.
"You betcha." Answered Boudreaux. "Ebery night I take dese fish here down to
da lake and let dem swim for a while. Den, I whistle and dey jump back into de
buckets and I take dem home."
"That‘s baloney. Fish can‘t do that," said the warden, suspecting Boudreaux had
been drinking, as well.
"Well den, I guess I has to show you," Boudreaux replied, with an expression of
great disbelief.
"Okay. I‘ve got to see this!" the game warden answered amusedly, imagining
Boudreaux‘s face contorting with pain when he gave him a big fine. Going back
to the lake, Boudreaux poured the fish into the water and stood waiting. After
several minutes, the game warden turned to Boudreaux and said, "Well?"
"Well what?" responded Boudreaux.
"When are you going to call the fish back?"
"...What fish?" queried Boudreaux, innocently, "I-I don‘t see no fish!"

Cajun Crawfish Quiche is not your average crust-encased cheese omelet. This
one is different, that difference spelled: CAJUN! Great as an entrée, it works for
breakfast, too; a herb-hopped dish that pairs well with a strong cup of coffee.
Hot or cold, the crawfish flavor is unmistakable, leaving the flakey crust and
creamy cheese to play supporting roles.
Cajun Crawfish Quiche Recipe

Recipe Category
See next page for a list of the

recipes for this Recipe Category
French Bread Pudding
Pecan Pralines
Bayou Banana Bread
Peach Ice Cream
Peach Cobbler
Italian Cream Cake
Pecan Sandies
Gingerbread with Whipped Creme
Millionaire Pie
Bananas Foster
Pecan Pie
Dudley Joseph LeBlanc, Sr. (colloquially known as Coozan Dud LeBlanc),
August 16, 1894 - October 22, 1971, was a colorful Cajun member of the
Louisiana State Senate whose entrepreneurial talents netted him millions through
the national marketing of his patent medicine, Hadacol. Born poor, he earned his
way through college, becoming a high-powered salesman of tobacco, shoes,
crude oil, and patent medicines.
Dudley Leblanc spent most of his life in Abbeville, the seat of Vermilion
Parish, where he enjoyed a large, comfortable home. In 1940, he was elected to
the first of his four nonconsecutive terms in the state Senate. LeBlanc often
campaigned in French when he made appearances in Acadiana. In his Cajun
tongue, he extolled his merits as a politician who deserved the support of his
fellow Cajuns, attacking his rivals in a language that most of his opponents could
not understand.
Legend has it that he once addressed a political gathering in which a Public

Service Commissioner, who did not speak French, was in attendance. A practical
joker, LeBlanc had some fun with the Commissioner and his political cohorts,
assailing the Commissioner and Huey P and Earl K Long. Not comprehending
the Cajun tongue, the Commissioner was on the platform with LeBlanc,
applauding, as LeBlanc called him "a crook!" Only in Louisiana, it was said,
could such politicking occur. Just for the record, on more than one occasion Earl
K Long called LeBlanc "a crook."
Sen. LeBlanc was always a staunch defender of Cajun culture in Louisiana.

He served as president of the Association of Louisiana Acadians, and in the late
1960s, he, along with U.S. Representative James R. Domengeaux of Lafayette,
worked to establish the Council for the Development of French in Louisiana.
LeBlanc is credited with helping to make Louisiana the only English-French
bilingual state in the nation.
In 1957, while he was not in public office, LeBlanc was indicted for
fraudulently filing his federal income tax for the year 1951. The indictment was
thrown out, however, when his attorneys filed a motion that LeBlanc could not
properly defend himself because a U.S. District Court in New York had
destroyed the records of his company after a 1952 bankruptcy hearing.
LeBlanc died of a massive stroke suffered at Abbeville General Hospital,

where he had been admitted for emergency surgery for a gastric ulcer three days
earlier. At his death, he had about seven months left to serve of his final term in
office.
Be sure to read Article about St. Louis Cathedral and Jackson Square
Most French Quarter visitors have fallen prey to the bewitching aroma of hot
beignets and café au lait, leaving with that haunting wish to recreate the
"moment". The moment has arrived! Try our recipe as a dessert or afternoon
pick-me-up - either event an epicurean delight. And, we might add, an event to
be shared.
Beignets & Café au lait Recipes

Many years ago, in the city of New Orleans, a young mother was weeping
distraughtly under the rain-swept canopy of a corner grocery. A passing
grandmother stopped to offer consolation. "What brings such tears, my dear," the
kind old woman asked, noting a sodden bag at her feet. "Is there anything I may
help you with?"
"Ooooh," moaned the tearful mother, "I fear not. You see, my husband has
lost his job, and I've just dropped what our last little money could provide. The
milk has spilled on the French bread, the eggs have broken in the carton, and-"
"Now, now," interjected the grandmother soothingly, shaking the water from
her umbrella, "it can't be as bad as all that."
"But you don't understand," wailed the young mother, "there's nothing left in
the house to eat - nothing, except maybe a shot of whisky, half a coconut and a
little sugar - and its all my fault."
"Oh dear," answered the old lady, a twinkle in her caring eyes, "do you author
life's unfolding?" she queried, "is ill-fortune self wrought? I think not," she
counseled kindly, "life is larger than ourselves."
"What do you mean," sniveled the mother, grateful for a compassionate ear.
"See that mud puddle over there?" the grandmother asked, pointing her folded
umbrella, "do you think the little drops of water could free themselves by
struggling? No, they would only disturb the bottom, become more laden with
mud. The only way they can be free is to wait, wait for the sun; and then, by
surrendering to its warmth, they will be drawn upward to the clouds, leaving the
silt and sludge far behind."
"I-I think I understand," replied the young mother, calming to the

grandmother's gentleness, "but how does that relate to my sodden bag, my milk-
soaked bread and my broken eggs?"
Fumbling in her purse, the old lady withdrew a nubby pencil and a narrow,
wire-hinged pad. "Go home to your family and follow the instructions on this
note. You will soon see how surrender to a power greater than yourself can
multiply your good," and so saying, she wrote briskly, the young mother
accepting the torn paper note.
Months later, the grandmother was again at the corner grocery. She was not
surprised to see an advertisement in the window hawking "Providential
Pudding"; nor, was she taken aback by the grocer's happy account of a
neighborhood mom who was successfully peddling the dessert. "Claims she was
given the recipe by an angel...right outside my door...says the recipe called for
milk-soaked bread and eggs...won't tell what else is in it... my customers line up
for it every day...rumor has it she's expanding, too."
Pausing outside, the grandmother gazed whimsically up at a cloudless sky,

musing, "that lucky old sun, it just rolls around heaven all day!"
French Bread Pudding with Whisky Sauce
Yield: approximately sixteen servings
Ingredients:
Eight cups of hand-torn, dry, crusty French bread pieces

4 cups of whole milk
1 cup of chopped, pitted dates
1 20 oz can of well-drained crushed pineapple
6 beaten eggs
½ cup natural, grated coconut (unsweetened)
2 cups sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) melted unsalted butter
2 tbsp vanilla
1 tbsp ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon of ground nutmeg
Instructions:
Combine bread, milk and dates, and let stand 20 minutes, stirring occasionally to
soak bread evenly.
After soaking, add well-drained crushed pineapple to bread mixture.
Using an electric mixer, beat eggs, then add coconut, sugar, melted butter, vanilla
and cinnamon.
Pour mix into soaked bread and combine ingredients with large spoon.
Pour into a greased 9 x 13 baking dish and bake for approximately 50 minutes,
or, until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.
Dust sparingly with ground nutmeg and garnish with mint leaves, if desired.
Whisky Sauce:
In a sauté or small sauce pan, melt ½ cup butter.
Stir in 1 cup sugar, 2 egg yolks and 4 tbsp of water.
Stir over medium-low heat for 6 minutes, or, until sugar dissolves and mixture
thickens.
Turn off heat and stir in 5 tbsp bourbon.
Spoon over warm pudding cuts and serve immediately.

Peace Pralines
With the attention of ardor and dint of devotion, the salt of her tears burned
hot on her cheeks as she watched her man walk away. "If there‘s nothing worth
dying for," she had told him softly, "then there‘s nothing worth living for, either -
" his response, an empty shuffle of leaves as he trudged from the shade of pecan
trees. If only I had her faith, he pondered, kicking a paper shell pecan with sullen
indifference as he turned to climb up the levee.
Beneath him, the churn of the muddy Mississippi was as riotous as his roiling
thoughts - and just as dark. He had never imagined it would come to this: this
choice between a lady and a lion. Oh yes, he reasoned, that‘s what it is: my
intractable will that she calls a lion, a hungry hunt for the vanishing sate of a
dollar. Why can‘t she see it my way? A man should provide for his wife. But,
no...she thinks the best will just announce itself with no struggle, no fight to
attain - with just a belief that it will be.
"Look around you," a voice spoke quietly from somewhere deep within,
"consider the power of the moving river. Nothing can stand in the way of its
mission to pour of its plenty into the great, green, goblet of the Gulf. And from
where did this power come...this force that will not be denied?"
I know, he answered silently, looking back to gaze through the distance at his
wife, still sitting beneath the protecting trees. I know...its source is a little
Minnesota lake, Lake Itasca, a lake that draws its name from the Latin "veritas"
(truth) and "caput" (head) - the "head of truth".
Standing there, the morning sun seemed to burn as a lamp on his memory: all
those sleepless nights in college, those tomes piled high atop his desk. Was a
degree the ship upon which he hung his escutcheon, and if so, to what avail? It
was the unseen wind that drove him hard across the horizon, a reliance on a
heavenly force. What had she said, this loving wife of his, so ever in step with
truth...with the Way, the Truth, and the Life? "Lean not unto thine own
understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths."
That was what she had been telling him this morning: the acknowledgement, the
direction...the source of the wind in his sails, the peace of a total reliance.
Turning, the sun seemed less on his memory, now, and more on the gold in
her hair. "Truth!" he shouted, hurrying down from the levee and sprinting for the
copse of pecans, their tremulous leaves appearing to dance with joy at his
coming. "I‘ve found it!" he cried, dropping to his knees before his wife, "I‘ve
found it...that thing worth dying for!"
With all the ease of a forgiving smile, she withdrew, from the picnic basket
that had first prompted them to the trees, a warm pecan praline. "Here, darling,"
she whispered rapturously, "have a little taste of life...for death has just lost its
sting!"
And as an eastern breeze but briefly tousled a tress of golden hair, he kissed
away the tears that had sought so long to fill his cup of bliss.
Pecan Pralines
Yield: approx 24 pralines
Ingredients:
2 cups light brown sugar

1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup heavy cream
8 tbsp (1 stick) unsalted butter
4 tbsp good bourbon (can substitute 3 ½ tbsp water and 1 tsp vanilla)
¼ tsp cinnamon
3 cups pecan halves (use 1 cup less if you prefer a ratio of more candy to pecans)
Instructions:
Mix the sugars, cream, butter, 3 tbsp of the bourbon and cinnamon.
Place in a heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-high heat and stir constantly

until temperature reaches 240°
(a candy thermometer is imperative for this recipe).
Depending on your pan and heat source, it may take a few minutes for the entire
surface to reach a boil.
Remove from heat and quickly stir in remaining 1 tbsp of bourbon.
Add pecans halves and continue to stir vigorously, about 3 minutes, until the
candy cools
(the pecans should not settle once the candy has sufficiently cooled).
Using a large spoon, or wooden spoon, measure the pralines onto an aluminum
foil-covered baking sheet, and let cool completely.
Be sure that pecan halves are measured evenly with each spoonful, as the candy
will not incorporate them properly if you try to press them back in as the pralines
continue to cool on the foil.
Isador, Fontenot and Thibodeaux
Isador was the proprietor of the bayou town saloon. One evening, Fontenot
entered the empty saloon and lazily took his regular barstool. Isador was some
happy to have a customer, asking pleasantly, "De usual, Fontenot?"
"Wad de dif-frence, Isador...de usual or de su-prise?" he asked casually, sighing

like the tired fisherman he wanted Isador to suppose he was.
"Mais, ya wan' me t' su-prise ya?" Isador queried, reaching for a bottle of cold
Texas beer.
"Nah...jis make it de usual, Isador," he responded, watching Isador withdraw his

arm from the cooler. "A col' Jax beer and som' talk wid a fren, yeh...now dats
wha' I need."
"Som-tin dun git ya, Fontenot?" Isador asked with real concern, sliding a Jax
beer down the bar. "Can I hep ya, fren?" he added kindly.
"Maybe," Isador replied, taking a sip of his Jax and rummaging in his overalls
for a tin of his favorite chew. "I been tryin' t' 'member how many doors ye got
here, an' I tinks maybe ya got four."
"I seeee," said Isador under his breath, thinking his friend may have a problem
beyond his ability to solve. "Fontenot," he asked, after some thought, "how many
years ya been comin' here, huh?"
"I dunno...maybe twenty...maybe more," Fontenot answered, "an' dats wha' gots
me. I keep countin' fore doors. Fact is, I'll bet ya fifty dolla ya got dem four. "
"Maybe I can hep ya," quipped Isador, coming alive to the easy challenge,
"cause I dun been here longer din you, Fontenot. I knows I gots two doors, an'
dats dat," he said with a self-satisfied smile.
"Okay, wha' dat?" Fontenot asked, pointing at the entrance to the old saloon.
"Fontenot, ya knows wha' dat is," Isador retorted, shaking his head, "dat der's de
front door."
"Okay, dat's one...now, wha'dat der?" Fontenot asked, pointing at the rear exit.
"Dats de behine door, Fontenot," Isador replied sadly, concerned for his
beleaguered friend.
"An wha' yo' name?" Fontenot retorted, enjoying his chew.
"I got ya, Fontenot," Isador replied, his smile returning, "...Isador."
"Dat's tree," said Fontenot, turning to employ the small spittoon Isador had
placed on the bar for customers' use. "An' does ya knows wha' t' call dis here?"
Fontenot asked, pointing at the spittoon, "dis here's a cuspidor," he finished
proudly. "Now, gib me de fifty."
Finishing his beer, Fontenot bid his friend good night and departed,
chuckling...and fifty dollars richer. A few minutes later, Thibodeaux entered,
taking the barstool Fontenot had just vacated.
"Hep ya?" Isador asked, still befuddled over his loss.
"De usual," Thibodeaux replied, shoving the spittoon down the bar a little and
accepting his cold Jax beer.
"Saaaay, my fren," Isador drawled, a sudden idea brightening his eyes, "how
many doors ya tink I got here?"
"Mais, Isador," answered Thibodeaux, "ebery Cajun along dis bayou knows ya
gots two doors, yeh."
"Tink so, huh?" Isador baited, "if dat's rite, den I dun bet ya fifty dolla's I gots
four!"
Regarding Isador with suspicion, Thibodeaux slowly came to the conclusion that
this wasn't a bet he could lose. "It's a bet, Isador," he said, pushing his stool back
to enjoy how this played out. "Show me, my fren."
"Wha dat der?" Isador replied, pointing at the entrance.
"Dat der's de front door," answered Thibodeaux, grinning widely.
"An' dat der?" Isador continued, pointing at the rear exit.
"Dat's de behine door, my silly fren," Thibodeaux remarked, eyeing Isador

mirthfully.
"An' wha dey call me?" Isador asked proudly, pounding his chest.
"Aaaah, I gits it," Thibodeaux replied, bringing his stool back close to the bar,
"but dat's jis tree, Isador...dat's jis tree, yeh."
Stepping closer to his customer, Isador was all smiles, thinking how he had
regained the fifty he had lost to Fontenot. Pointing at the spittoon, he asked with
gleeful confidence, "An jis wha ya call dat, Thibodeaux, jis wha ya call dat?"
Thibodeaux looked at Isador blankly, shaking his head. "I-I dunno, Isador...I
dunno. Wanna tell me?" he asked, unsure of what Isador was trying to do.
Isador scratched his head, still pointing at the spittoon, color rising in his cheeks.
And after a tense silence, he began to shout: "Dat tig-a-ma-jiggy spittoon der dun
cos' me a hundred dolla's today. A hundred dolla's, yeh!"
Ingredients:
1 ½ lbs mashed sweet potatoes (approx 3 medium sweet potatoes)

½ cup packed light brown sugar
½ cup unfiltered molasses
1 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp ground nutmeg
½ tsp ground ginger
1/8 tsp ground cloves
¼ tsp salt
3 medium eggs, beaten
1 cup whole milk
(1) 9" pie shell
Instructions:
Pre heat oven to 375° F
Boil or bake sweet potatoes until tender.
Cool slightly and peel.
Combine all ingredients in a mixing bowl and mix well, stopping occasionally to
remove sweet potato "strings" that may appear around the beaters.
Pour mixture into 9" pie shell and cover pie crust with foil or aluminum crust
protectors.
Bake for 20 minutes.
Remove foil or crust protectors and bake an additional 30 to 40 minutes, or until

a knife inserted in center comes out clean.
Cool before serving.
Serve with whipped cream, if desired.
To store, cover and chill.

Hadacol, a National Nostrum See article about Senator Dudley J. LeBlanc
Senator Dudley J. LeBlanc invented the dietary supplement, Hadacol, after

absconding with a bottle of liquid vitamins from his doctor‘s office and basing
his Hadacol on the ingredients he found in that bottle. He derived the name
Hadacol from the first two letters of each name in his Happy Day Company,
adding an "L" at the end for his surname, LeBlanc.
By his own account, he had a pain in his big toe in 1943 and it spread to his
arms, legs and neck. Hospitalized, three doctors failed to relieve the pain. On his
way out of the hospital, another doctor told him that he looked like walking
death, adding, that he had something that might give him some relief. The
medicine worked, and LeBlanc sneaked a bottle of the medicine out of the
doctor‘s office so he could examine the label. The modified contents of that
bottle would later become his dietary supplement, Hadacol.
Hadacol boasted an alcohol content of 12 percent; a fact that made it popular

as an ingredient in cocktails sold in the French Quarter. Because of its high
alcohol content, Hadacol was only sold in liquor stores in Northbrook, Illinois, a
suburb of Chicago. Presumably due to its alcohol, customers who had holes in
their shoes were buying Hadacol for $3.50 a bottle, a tidy sum in the early
1950‘s. Hadacol sales rocketed as testimonials credited its recuperative powers.
Meanwhile, an Illinois official warned that teenagers could get plastered on
Hadacol.
In 1950, Hadacol grossed $20 million over a twenty-two state sales area. The
1950 Hadacol Caravan claimed such luminaries as Connie Boswell, Carmen
Miranda, Roy Acuff, Bob Hope, Jack Benny, Lucille Ball, Minnie Pearl, Mickey
Rooney, Chico Marx, George Burns, and Gracie Allen, all of whom travelled, at
one time or another, with LeBlanc‘s caravan. One of these caravans traveled to
the west coast, stopping in Los Angeles for a month. Groucho Marx and Judy
Garland headlined this caravan.
In 1952 the Senator sold his Hadacol company for eight million dollars, a
grand sum at that time. But it wasn‘t long before the Yankee buyers were
reporting that LeBlanc had sold them a company that wasn‘t as financially
solvent as he had claimed. In addition, he was $650,000 behind in his federal tax
payments. The new owners would have to declare bankruptcy. It seemed
LeBlanc had sold out just in time. When asked, by Groucho Marx, what Hadacol
was good for, the Senator showed he was capable, on occasion, of an honest
answer: "It was good," the senator replied, "for five and a half million for me last
year."
Coozan LeBlanc may have been a flamboyant state senator, but he will be
best remembered as the Hadacol pitchman who parlayed a stolen bottle of
dubious remedies into a multi-million dollar empire.
Bayou Banana Bread
Be sure to read Bread of Belief Story
A compliment as a dessert or tea time snack, Banana Bread is a perennial

southern favorite. Our recipe calls for chopped dates and a good mix of walnuts
and pecans, the latter giving it the Cajun seal of approval. Try it warm, with a pat
of unsalted, sweet cream butter...and breakfast will be a sweet memory for the
rest of your day.
Bayou Banana Bread Recipe

Who Dis Mary Lou
One day, while doing the laundry, Boudreaux‘s wife found a piece of paper in
Boudreaux‘s pocket that read "Mary Lou". Instantly angry, she stormed into the
room where Boudreaux was watching a fishing show. "Boudreaux, ya better
splain t‘ me who dis Mary Lou is, rite now!"
"Mais, don‘t ya go worryin‘," Boudreaux said, "I went t‘ de race track an‘ dat‘s
de horse dat I bet on!"
"Okay, but don‘t ya ever let me find out dat ya been messin‘ ‘round," Mrs.
Boudreaux said emphatically.
The next day, the phone rang, and Mrs. Boudreaux answered it. A tense moment
passed while she replaced the phone with a skillet. Finding Boudreaux in the
next room, she whopped him a good one.
"Mais, wad ya done dat for?" Boudreaux cried.
"Your horse just called!" Mrs. Boudreaux retorted.

In an Acadian bayou town, there lived two widows, each suffering the loss of
a husband to the rigors of the Korean War. As neighbors, they often talked of
happier days, and of the daunting task of raising fatherless children. One widow
was a good Catholic, as Cajuns often are, and she shared her faith frequently in
an attempt to assuage the other widow‘s doubts and despair. But eventually,
these well-meaning encouragements led to the faithless widow‘s disavowal of
any belief at all; and, if for no other reason than to engage in a good argument,
she began to erect the façade of an atheist.
One sultry afternoon, the unbelieving neighbor overheard her Catholic friend
next door praying quietly, as she hung her children‘s laundry out to dry, "Dear
Father, You know we have nothing to eat tonight, and my children...your
children...are going to be hungry. Please, Father... supply our needs."
Unbelieving though she claimed to be, the next-door neighbor could not
abide her dear friend‘s trouble. Grabbing her handbag, she sped off to the village
grocer to assemble the needed supplies. With the happy intent of surprising her
friend upon her return, she suddenly had a mischievous idea:
Placing a trio of paper bags on her neighbor‘s front porch, she knocked
loudly, and then scampered off the porch and around to the side of the house to
await the expected answer. "Oh, Father!" she heard her friend exclaim, "You
answered my prayer...and so quickly, too! Thank you, God...Thank you!" she
cried, hot tears beginning to dampen her cheeks as she gathered up the bags.
"Not so fast, there, deary," her grinning benefactor said, appearing from the
side of the house. "It wasn‘t God who gave you those groceries...I put them
there, see!" And with that, she held out the grocer‘s receipt to prove her claim.
Slowly, and ever so carefully, the tearful recipient placed the bags of food just
inside her porch screen door. Then, turning back to her neighbor, she accepted
the offered receipt. Studying it for a moment, a look of peaceful contentment
began to brighten her eyes. "No," she said quietly, looking up and beyond her
generous neighbor, "no...it was God who provided what we needed...He just
made the Devil pay for it!" And with that, they shared a laugh.
Later that evening, when the children were still happily eating their hand-
churned peach ice cream, the neighborly widows perched side-by-side on the
back porch swing, enjoying their sweating glasses of brewed iced tea in the soft
summer breeze. "I must ask...how did you know we needed help tonight?" the
good Catholic inquired, still holding to her heaven-sent miracle.
"I was blessed with the ears of God," the pseudo-atheist replied, reaching out
to pat her neighbor‘s hand. "I‘ve given it some thought tonight, and I‘ve come to
the conclusion that there is a God...for it was God‘s love in my heart that
responded to a believer‘s faith."
Tears reappeared in the Catholic widow‘s eyes. "That‘s just what the good
book teaches," she answered gently, "Tribulation worketh patience; and patience,
experience; and experience, hope: and hope maketh not ashamed; because the
love of God is shed abroad in our hearts!"
Peach Ice Cream
Makes approximately 3 quarts
Ingredients:
6 cups ripe peaches (divided), peeled and cut into small pieces*
6 eggs at room temperature, beaten
2 tbsp flour
1 tbsp vanilla extract
1 tsp almond extract
½ tsp salt
1 ½ quarts whole milk
2 ½ cups heavy cream
*If fresh peaches are unavailable, fresh-frozen slices may be used
Instructions:
Using a blender, purée 3 cups of the peaches and mash the remaining 3 cups,
keeping the two portions separated.
Temporarily store covered, in refrigerator.
In a large bowl, whisk the eggs and add the sugar, flour, vanilla and almond
extracts and salt.
Whisk until blended.
In a large saucepan heat the milk and cream over low heat, until it begins to
steam (do not bring to a boil).
Pour about one-fifth of the warm milk and cream into the bowl of egg mix and
stir until combined.
Pour the egg mix back into the saucepan and continue to cook over low heat,
stirring constantly, until the mix is thickened, but not boiling.
Remove from heat and refrigerate for several hours.
After refrigeration, add the cold puréed peaches to the mix and stir well.
Pour mix into a prepared 5-quart ice cream freezer container and churn for 5
minutes.
Then, remove the top of the container, and the dasher, and add the cold mashed
peaches.
Replace the dasher and the container top and continue churning until well set.
For optimum results, cover the top of the ice cream churn with a thick, wet
towel, and allow the ice cream to set for another half-hour before serving.
Any remainder may be frozen in separate containers.

Louisiana Peaches
The rolling farmlands of North Louisiana are renowned for peaches. Juicy
and oh-so-sweet, they are an annual staple of the month of June - so much so
that the town of Ruston (located between Monroe and Shreveport) is host to a
Peach Festival to celebrate the ripening harvest. For more than sixty years this
North Louisiana town has dedicated the fourth weekend of June to honor the
fuzzy fruit.
The Festival is a favorite of families, with activities for youngsters and adults
such as a fishing tournament, a rodeo, pony rides and a parade, as well as arts-
and-crafts and antique car shows, sidewalk sales and a native food bazaar,
including, of course, peach pies and cobblers, and a once-a-year offering of
peach ice cream.
Because of its labor intensive process, this is the only time farm-fresh peach
ice cream is commercially available, and the locals and tourists alike find the
delicacy to be the perfect way to cool off on a warm June day.
Peach Cobbler
Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients:
2 cups fresh peach slices, or one 13 oz can sliced peaches, well drained
1 stick unsalted butter
1 stick unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
¾ cup granulated sugar, plus 2 tbsp
¼ cup light brown sugar
½ tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp grated nutmeg
¼ tsp almond extract
½ cup unseasoned bread crumbs
1 package refrigerated pie dough (for 2 crust pie)
1/8 cup flour
Vanilla ice cream for serving with warm cobbler
Instructions:
In a large saucepan, add peaches, 1 stick of butter, ¾ cup granulated sugar, light
brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and almond extract.
Bring to a simmer.
Add bread crumbs and stir.
Sprinkle the flour over a dry surface and roll out both pie crusts.
Spray a 10-inch square baking pan with oil and place 1 layer of the dough into
the pan.
Place one-half of the butter pieces on the bottom crust.
Pour the peach mixture into the baking pan.
Cut the remaining layer of dough into strips and arrange them in a lattice pattern
over the peach mix.
Top with the remaining butter pieces and dust with two tbsp granulated sugar.
Bake for 25 minutes, or until the crust is brown and the peaches are bubbling.
Serve warm with vanilla ice cream.

UFO Landing
Fontenot and Boudreaux were on a weekend hunt when they stumbled across a
UFO landing. Watching the little creatures descend from the craft, Fontenot
whispered, "Mais, what‘s dat, Boudreaux?"
"I don‘t know, me," Boudreaux answered quietly, as he aimed his gun, "but you
better go back to de camp and put de rice on, yeh."
Concord Cake
Italian Cream Cake
Fournier and Forte worked side-by-side at the French Quarter Fish Market,
monotonously weighing and wrapping each morning's catch for a squawking line
of customers: French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, German, Moors,
Chinese, Creole, Irish and English, all uniting in a ceaseless babble. In fact, the
diversity of origins was the reason Fournier and Forte were known by their
surnames instead of their given ones. That way, the petty bias of each nationality
could instantly be erected if advantage were thought to be gained
But today was different - at least for Fournier, a Frenchman, and Forte, an
Italian - for Mrs. Fournier had heard enough of her husband's harangues about
his Italian coworker. And being a baker by trade ("baker" the literal meaning of
Fournier), she decided to put feet to her prayers for peace: she would bake a cake
as a gift to the Forte family.
Bearing the gift in a covered basket, Fournier could hardly wait for the day to
end, the delight of giving infecting his bias until he was actually noting Forte's
strong points ("strong" the literal meaning of Forte). "Here, Forte," he
announced proudly, holding the cloth-covered basket out for Forte's grasp, "it's a
gift from my family to yours." Forte was surprised, and suddenly softened by the
gesture.
"Hope your wife is short on spaghetti tonight," Fournier teased, "cause when
you see what my wife has baked for you, you'll appreciate a little appetite left to
accommodate your craving."
Forte laughed, and Fournier laughed, a disarming exchange between two

proud men.
The next day was Sunday, the only day the two men didn't greet the orange of
dawn at the Market. But Mrs. Fournier was not surprised at the gentle rap at the
door - she was expecting the visitor, though perhaps not so early as sunrise.
"Come in, Mrs. Forte," she said pleasantly, acquainting herself with her visitor -
though they had never met before, "I had the most delicious feeling you might
come by this fine Sunday morn."
"It's the least I could do," gushed Mrs. Forte, entering the gas-lit room and
handing Mrs. Fournier her basket. "It was as though you had cast a spell on my
husband last night...all he could do was rave about Mr. Fournier - or, Fournier, as
he calls him - when before, there were only snide remarks. Our supper has never
been more pleasant, nor the dessert more enticing. And, by-the-way, where did
you learn to bake such a cake?" she asked, Mrs. Fournier oscillating the cloth-
covered basket slowly, a blush about her cheeks:
"A cake of peace..Concord Cake..the recipe just came to me from out of the
blue..I-I don't know."
"I do," replied Mrs. Forte, reaching out to pat Mrs. Fournier's basket, "it came
from the same heavenly source as my gift to you - Cajun Crab Cakes...although,
I'd rather call them Convivial Crab Cakes!"
The next day, Fournier and Forte were seen perched on the seawall, sharing,
like two schoolboys, the best of their love-packed lunch-pails.
Italian Cream Cake
Cake Ingredients:
½ cup shortening, room temperature

1 stick butter, room temperature
2 cups sugar
5 eggs, separated, room temperature
4 tbsp coconut milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
½ teaspoon almond extract
2 cups, plus 4 tbsp, cake flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk, room temperature (not low fat)
1¾ cups shredded coconut (unsweetened, if available)
1 cup finely chopped walnuts
Cake Instructions:
Preheat oven to 325° F and grease and flour 3 (9 inch) cake pans.
Using an electric mixer, beat the egg whites until stiff.
Set aside momentarily.
In a separate mixing bowl, cream the shortening, butter and sugar until fluffy.
Add the egg yolks, one at a time, beating after each addition.
Add the coconut milk, vanilla and almond extracts.
Sift together the cake flour, baking soda and salt.
Blend with the previous ingredients in mixer, alternating the dry additions with
the buttermilk.
Remove the mixing bowl from the mixer.
Add the coconut and walnuts, and gently fold into batter.
Add the beaten egg whites, and gently fold into batter.
Fill the 3 prepared cake pans evenly with the batter, and bake for approximately
25 minutes, or until a knife comes out clean when inserted into the middle of
each cake.
Allow the cakes to cool in the pans for about 7 minutes before turning them out
to cool on a wire rack.
Upon reaching room temperature, apply frosting between layers, then frost the
entire cake.
Decorate with walnuts halves, as depicted, immediately after frosting the cake
(the frosting will still be "sticky" enough for the walnut halves to adhere in
place).
Frosting Ingredients:
1 8oz package cream cheese, room temperature

½ stick butter, room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla
½ teaspoon almond extract
1 lb box of confectioner's sugar
1 cup finely chopped pecans
36 walnut halves (for decorating)
Frosting Instructions:
Using an electric mixer, beat the cream cheese and butter until thoroughly
blended
(no particles of cream cheese showing in the blend).
Add the vanilla and almond extracts, and the pecans then blend 1 minute.
Add half of the confectioner's sugar and blend until incorporated.
Add remaining confectioner's sugar and blend until incorporated, scraping down
the sides, as necessary.
NOTE: If frosting seems too stiff to apply, transfer to a microwavable bowl and
microwave for 10 second intervals, checking after each interval to see if frosting
is soft enough to apply.
Baton Rouge
Capital of Louisiana
The founding father of Baton Rouge, Pierre Le Moyne, Sieur d‘Iberville,

gave the city its name, as well as Lakes Pontchartrain and Maurepas. The city
dates to 1719 for its founding, but the general area had already been inhabited
for many thousands of years by indigenous peoples. Based on artifacts found in
ancient settlements along the Mississippi, and lesser rivers in the area,
archaeologists have dated habitation as early as 8000 B.C.. In fact, there are
three earthen mounds extant within modern day Baton Rouge that date to 5000
B.C..
Modern history dates to 1699, when Sieur d‘Iberville, leading an exploratory

party up the Mississippi, encountered a blood-stained cypress pole adorned with
dead animals and fish, the marker serving as the boundary between the hunting
grounds of local tribes. The exploration party called the landmark le baton rouge
(the red stick), that name continuing to the present day. And when permanent
settlement began in 1719, with the erection of a fort, Baton Rouge became one
of the region‘s prominent settlements.
When the British expelled the Acadians in 1755, many went to France first,
then resettled in Louisiana, some occupying the area around Baton Rouge.
Eventually, the Acadian settlers would be known as Cajuns, distinct from the
Anglo-American Prostestants, bringing with them their food, music, style of
dress, and their Catholic faith.
After defeat in the Seven Years‘ War, France ceded its territory east of the
Mississippi to Britain, with the exception of New Orleans, which went to Spain.
Under a new flag, Baton Rouge began attracting European settlers, and when the
thirteen colonies rebelled in 1776, the newer settlements, including Baton
Rouge, remained loyal to the British.
By the end of the decade, both France and Spain had declared war on Britain
- Mobile, Pensacola and Baton Rouge all falling into the hands of the Spanish,
effectively ending the British strongholds along the Gulf. Not long thereafter, a
colony of Pennsylvania German farmers settled around the city, choosing a long
line of bluffs that formed a barrier to the Mississippi floodplain. These settlers
named roads after cities in Germany, such as today‘s Essen and Siegen lanes,
building supply roads for the cotton plantations.
With the 1803 Louisiana Purchase, Spanish West Florida was veritably
surrounded by the United States and its possessions, making Baton Rouge the
only non U.S. post along the Mississippi. Eventually, President James Madison
ordered Baton Rouge to be seized and annexed to the Territory of Orleans, using
the premise that Baton Rouge had always been a part of the U.S., which,
according to the terms of the Louisiana Purchase, would make such an
annexation legal. Since many of the inhabitants were already "Americans", there
was little resistance to the raising of the stars and stripes on December 10, 1810.
This marked the first time that all of the land, that would ultimately comprise the
State of Louisiana, lay within U.S. borders; and shortly thereafter (1812),
Louisiana was admitted to the Union.
The Marquis de Lafayette visited Baton Rouge in 1825, and the town feted
him with a banquet and ball, changing the name of Second Street to Lafayette
Street in his honor. And Mark Twain wrote of the city that: "it was clothed in
flowers, like a bride - no, much more so; like a greenhouse. The magnolia
trees...were lovely and fragrant, with their dense rich foliage and huge snowball
blossoms...here the sugar region begins, and the plantations were in view."
The city grew, as a result of river trade, until, by the outbreak of the Civil
War, its population was over 5,000. The state voted for secession in 1861, but,
by May of 1862 the city was occupied by Union troops and suffered little
damage compared to cities to the east. Today, there are many structures extant
that predate the Civil War.
In 1932, Governor Huey P Long directed the construction of a new State

Capitol building. It was a public works project that symbolized the growth of
government and related amenities in the city. By the 1970‘s, the city profited
from yet another expansion in the petrochemical industry, and in the 1990‘s, a
building boom began that continues to this day. The 2000 census recorded a city
population of 225,000, ranking it ahead of sister cites such as Montgomery and
Mobile, Alabama. Currently, Baton Rouge is one of the fastest growing
metropolitan areas with a population under 1 million, boasting an estimated
750,000 in 2008. The city is about an hours drive to the north of New Orleans.
Pecan Sandies
Yield: 18 cookies
Ingredients:
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

½ cup packed light brown sugar
1 ½ tsp pure vanilla extract
½ tsp maple extract
1/3 tsp salt
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup pecans, coarsely chopped
Instructions:
Using an electric mixer, beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy
Add vanilla and maple extracts and salt - mix until incorporated
Add flour, one-third cup at a time, mixing just until incorporated
Fold in chopped pecans
Roll dough into 1 ½" balls and arrange on two oil-sprayed cookie sheets
With the bottom of a cup or glass, flatten balls to about one-half of their original
thickness
Bake until golden brown (about 15 minutes), rotating once about midway
through
Remove from oven and let cool 5 minutes, then transfer to wire racks
(cookies may crumble if transferred while they are still oven temperature)
Can be stored in an airtight container for several days

National Pecan Sandie Day
June 23rd is recognized as National Pecan Sandie Day, perhaps more
passionately in the pecan-rich state of Louisiana. History notes cookies, or more
generally, "cakes", as far back as the primitives who baked on hot stones; but
man had to progress to the sweet meat of pecans to evolve the modern delicacy
of Pecan Sandies. In many countries, what we refer to as a "cookie" is called a
"biscuit", our choice of description apparently of Dutch descent, the Dutch word
"koekje" interpreting as "little cake."
Although the evolution of Pecan Sandies is uncertain, it is thought that nuts

were once symbols of prosperity, even fertility, the ever popular "wedding
cookie", employing most of the ingredients in the pecan sandie, indicative of this
supposition. But whatever the celebration, the Pecan Sandie is enjoyed by all, a
truly delicate, exquisite little "biscuit"!
"And I had but one penny in the world, thou should'st have it to buy
gingerbread."
William Shakespeare, "Love's Labor's Lost"
Early forms of ginger bread were employed for ceremonial rites by the
ancient Egyptians and Greeks. But ginger's introduction to Europe came with the
eleventh century crusaders who brought the spice back from the Middle East. At
the time, only the wealthy could enjoy it; but, as it became more affordable, the
common people made it very popular. Early recipes called for ground almonds,
stale breadcrumbs, rosewater, sugar and, of course, ginger. This paste-like mix
was then pressed into molds artfully carved from wood. And it was these molds,
or "story boards", from which people garnered important news, the molds
bearing the likeness of new emperors, queens, or religious symbols. The baked
cookies were often decorated with a kind of flat, white icing to better reveal the
details of the molds' intent.
It wasn't until the 1500's that the English replaced the stale breadcrumbs with
flour, along with the game-changing addition of eggs and sweeteners, the whole
resulting in a much lighter offering. The first gingerbread man in England is
credited to Queen Elizabeth I. History tells of the Queen presenting visiting
dignitaries with gingerbread men which bore their likenesses.
Ever popular with the masses, gingerbread became a staple at medieval fairs,
and as a token of love - a token that remains to be noted in the delightful aroma
pervading the home when gingerbread is still hot from the oven!
Ginger Bread with Whipped Cream
Yield: 12 servings
Ingredients:
1 cup unsalted butter (2 sticks)
¾ cup unsulphured molasses
¾ cup honey
½ cup water
1 cup tightly packed dark brown sugar
3 cups all-purpose flour
1½ tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp allspice
1/8 tsp ground clove
1/8 tsp nutmeg
3 large eggs
½ cup 2% milk
2 tbsp grated fresh ginger root
Instructions:
Lightly spray a 9 x 13 x 2-inch baking pan, and line with parchment paper to
facilitate removal of cake.
In a medium sauce pan, add butter, molasses, honey, water and brown sugar.
Place over low heat and stir frequently, heating until butter is entirely melted and
all ingredients are blended.
Pour into a large mixing bowl to cool, and set aside.
Sift the flour into a medium bowl. Add the baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon,
allspice, cloves and nutmeg, and stir to combine.
Set aside.
When the molasses mixture has cooled to near room temperature, begin adding
the eggs, one at a time, beating well to incorporate each egg.
Add the milk and mix to combine.
Stir in the dry ingredients in four or five batches, using long strokes
(do not use electric mixer to incorporate).
Stir in grated fresh ginger, being sure to disperse evenly throughout the batter.
Pour the batter into the prepared baking pan and bake for 50 minutes, or until a
knife inserted in the center comes out clean.
Allow to cool for 20 minutes, then, employing the edges of the parchment paper,
lift out of the pan and cool completely on a wire rack.
Serve room temperature, with sweetened whipped cream.
The cake may be covered and stored at room temperature for up to 3 days; stored
in the refrigerator, well wrapped, for up to one week; or frozen for up to three
months, then allowed to thaw overnight in the refrigerator for immediate use.
Boudreaux, Thibodeaux and Hebert were enjoying a crawfish boil, discussing

mortality, when thoughts of their eternal absence evoked a disquieting silence.
After a ponderous moment, Boudreaux asked, "Wad de tings ya want yo‘ frens t‘
say ‘bout ya afta ya dead?"
Thibodeaux answered first. "Me, if I could hear wad dey say while I be layin‘
der, I tinks I would want to hear dat I was a good husband, a good father and a
durn good fisherman, too."
"Dat‘s good," replied Hebert. "Me, I tink‘s I would want to hear dat I was a great
teacher...dat I made a difference in de lives of hundreds of chil‘ren."
"Hmmm, dat‘s good, yeh," said Boudreaux, pensively. "But me, I tinks I would
jis want to hear one ting."
"Waddat?" asked Thibodeaux, skimming the foam from the top of the boiling
pot.
"Mais, I would want to hear one of my fren‘s say, ‘Hey, git over here! He‘s
movin‘, yeh!"
Boudreaux encountered Hebert at the local gas station. "Hebert, talk to me," he
shouted, "say anyting ya wants to." Hebert looked as his friend intently, a
worried frown wrinkling his brow. "Wad‘s wrong wid you?" he asked, "I talk
t‘ya all de time."
Acting as though Hebert had said nothing, Boudreaux continued his strange
behavior. "Hebert," he yelled, "I jis got me a new hearing aid, and I want to
check it out. It‘s de best dat money can buy. Costed me five hunderd dollars, it
did." Understanding, now, Boudreaux‘s excitement, Hebert thought he‘d
compliment his friend. "Mais, dat‘s nice, Boudreaux...wad kind is it?"
"Ten-thirty!" Boudreaux exclaimed, beaming his biggest smile.

Boudreaux was surprised to see Hebert in the doctor‘s office. "Wad you doin‘
here?" he asked.
"Mais, me, I‘m gittin‘ one of dem circumcisions, Hebert replied.
"Dat goin‘ t‘ hurt, yeh!" Boudreaux exclaimed.
"How you know dat, Boudreaux?" Hebert asked, alarmed by his friend‘s
assertion.
"Let me put it dis way," Boudreaux explained, "I had me one of dem
circumcisions when I was a baby, and I couldn‘t walk for a year!"
Millionaire Pie
A Regional Favorite
Yield: 2 pies (12 slices)
Ingredients:
1 egg white
2 graham cracker pie crusts, baked
2 cups sifted powdered sugar
1 stick unsalted butter, room temperature
2 large eggs*
1/8 tsp salt
¼ tsp vanilla extract
1/8 tsp almond extract
1 cup heavy cream
¼ tsp vanilla extract
¼ cup sifted powdered sugar
4 oz original Cool Whip
1 cup canned crushed pineapple, well drained
½ cup chopped pecans
½ cup toasted shredded coconut
Instructions:
With a pastry brush, brush 1 egg white on two graham cracker pie shells
(reserve clear plastic tops to cover completed pies).
Bake 5 minutes, or until shells are firm and slightly browned.
Remove from oven and allow to reach room temperature.
Using an electric mixer, cream 2 cups powdered sugar and butter until light and
fluffy.
Add two eggs, salt, vanilla and almond extracts.
Mix until combined.
Divide mixture and spread into bottoms of cooled pie crusts.
Cover and place in refrigerator to chill for 2 hours.
Using an electric mixer, whip cream until almost stiff.
Add ¼ tsp vanilla extract and ¼ cup powdered sugar and whip until combined
and stiff.
Add Cool Whip and whip until combined.
Fold in drained pineapple and pecans.
Divide topping and mound on both pies.
Garnish pies with equal amounts of toasted coconut.
Cover and chill until serving.
*Note: If the use of raw eggs is a concern, eggbeaters may be substituted.

Originally served at Brennan‘s Restaurant in New Orleans, the dessert was
named after Richard Foster, who was then the New Orleans Crime Commission
Chairman, and a friend of the dessert‘s creator, Paul Blangé.
More than sixty years have passed since its introduction, but its popularity
continues unabated. It is served at many fine New Orleans restaurants, as well as
many elegant restaurants around the world. Some things are just too good to
become dated!
Bananas Foster Recipe
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients:
4 medium ripe bananas

Fresh lemon juice (optional)
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
2 tbsp banana liqueur
3 tbsp spiced rum
4 scoops of vanilla bean ice cream
Instructions:
Peel bananas and cut in half lengthwise, then cut in half crosswise to produce 4
sections per banana.
Brush with lemon juice, to prevent darkening, if the dessert is not to be made
immediately.
In a shallow pan, over medium heat, stir the brown sugar and butter until butter
is melted and the two are well combined.
Add the bananas to the pan and cook, uncovered, for about 3 minutes, turning
once.
Remove from heat and sprinkle with cinnamon and drizzle the banana liqueur
over the mix.
In a small saucepan heat the rum until just warm.
Using a long igniter, ignite the rum, being careful not to spill while aflame.
Pour the rum over the banana mixture and stir slightly to blend flavors.
Scoop ice cream into four dessert bowls or suitable stemware.
Spoon banana mixture evenly over ice cream and serve immediately.
Anne was much distressed, the events of the morning not boding well for the
trip she had planned so many months before. At first, she had given the slight
misadventure of a traffic ticket no thought. A one hundred dollar speeding
violation was something she could manage, a decision to forego a few
nonessentials putting her at ease. And so she had been, until the rush to work had
garnered a second violation, one more onerous than the first. And this time, if
she could not persuade the court to lower her fine, the much needed vacation
would have to be forfeited.
Awaiting her name to be called, the fear of the dread result flushed her cheeks
with the rush of apprehension. This is so unfair, she thought, clearing her throat
nervously, I was just being a good employee - a good citizen, even - trying to
make it to work on time. But the rationale gave her no peace, the discomfort of
guilt exacerbating the fatigue of waiting.
"Anne Fenley," the clerk of court announced harshly, disturbing what was left
of her composure, "please stand...raise your right hand...."
For all her lack of poise, it could have been a firing squad; the stern words of
the judge, her mumbled responses, all falling short of her memory - only the
fine, like screeching chalk across her attention: five hundred dollars...five
hundred dollars...five hun--: "Miss Fenley, would you please proceed to the
clerk‘s window downstairs." It was the Judge, standing to go to his chambers.
What could this mean? she wondered, lacking immediate funds to pay such
an amount. I‘ve heard of throwing yourself on the mercy of the court...and how
do I need that, now - mercy.
"Anne?" the judge spoke her name like a question, his robe gone, a gentleness
in his eyes she had missed before, his demeanor, standing before the window,
one of benevolence, of compassion as he turned to speak to the clerk:
"I want you to meet Anne Fenley," he said, reaching into the breast pocket of
his suit coat, "Anne is my daughter, you see, and because my regard for her is
immeasurably high, I am doing what any loving father would do...I‘m helping
my child!" And withdrawing his checkbook, the judge became a father, reducing
the mountain of his speechless daughter‘s burden to the flourish of a pen. With
an arm around her lightened shoulders, he added, "You are free to go, now,
Anne...and may this moment go with you, a gentle reminder of the mercy we all
live under."
"I know," she whispered, stretching to give him a kiss on his cheek, "you
taught me well...remember?"
For a moment, the judge was silent, looking into the depths of her dark brown
eyes, "I do...Lamentations 3:22-23...It is of the Lord‘s mercies that we are not
consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great
is thy faithfulness."
Pecan Pie
Yield: 6 to 8 slices
The Cajuns did not invent pecan pie, but they were savvy enough to make
good use of this natural resource, incorporating the nuts into many of their
dishes. Native Americans had long employed pecans as a food source and a kind
of fermented drink, but the first colonial pecan planting was on Long Island, NY,
in 1772. From there, it spread rapidly down the Atlantic Seaboard, George
Washington and Thomas Jefferson having trees planted in their gardens within
the same decade. It wasn‘t long before New Orleans gained importance in the
marketing of pecans, its distribution to other parts of the continent, and the
world, giving it a natural advantage due to its location at the mouth of the
Mississippi and the Gulf.
Pie Crust Ingredients:

1 ¼ cup all purpose flour
1 tbsp sugar
¼ tsp salt
1/8 tsp cinnamon
½ cup butter, cold, cut into thin slices
1 large egg
Extra flour for rolling dough
Instructions for Pie Crust:
Using a food processor fitted with a blade, pulse together the flour, sugar, salt
and cinnamon.
Add the butter and pulse until the mix is in pea-sized bits.
Add the egg and pulse several times, being careful not to let the dough become a
ball in the processor.
Add a tsp or two of water if the dough is too dry.
Remove the dough and press into a disk.
Wrap with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least one hour.
Once chilled, prepare a flat surface with a sprinkling of flour and roll the dough
into a 12" circle about 1/8" thick.
Transfer to a 9" pie pan and tuck the overhanging dough underneath itself to
form a thick perimeter even with the rim of the pie pan.
Using the tines of a fork, imprint the edge, or flute as desired.
Before baking, place the prepared crust in the freezer for 30 minutes.
Pie Filling Ingredients:

1 cup packed light brown sugar
½ cup light corn syrup
¼ cup dark corn syrup
½ tsp salt
2 ¼ cups chopped pecans, toasted
2 tbsp good bourbon
2 tsp vanilla extract
3 large eggs, beaten
Pie Filling Instructions:
Preheat oven to 400° F (Make the filling while the crust is baking)
Place foil over pie shell and fill with pie weights or dried beans.
Bake on center rack for 20 minutes. Remove from oven and lift off foil and pie
weights (or beans).
Return to oven and continue baking another 10 minutes, or until golden brown.
Using a baking sheet, toast the chopped pecans until savory, being careful not to
over brown.
Reduce the oven temperature to 350° F.
In a medium pan, combine the butter, brown sugar, corn syrup and salt.
Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Boil 1 minute and remove
from heat.
Stir in the toasted pecans, bourbon and vanilla. Set aside 5 minutes to cool.
Whisk the beaten eggs into the mixture and pour the mix into the warm pie crust.
Place pie on a sheet pan and bake for 40 to 45 minutes, or until the edges are set
but the center is still springy to the touch.
Cool before cutting. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Pecan Pie with Ice Cream
One Liners
A clean counter is the sign of a cluttered drawer.
All I ask for is a chance to prove that money can‘t make me happy.
Did you hear that boomerangs are coming back?
Two can live as cheaply as one...for half as long.
Warning: contents may have settled out of court.
Birthdays are healthy; the more you have, the longer you live.
Half the people in the world are below average.
A conclusion is the place where you tired of thinking.
If you think no one cares, try missing a payment.
Is there another word for synonym?
Me and my recliner - we go WAY back.
If man evolved from apes, why do we still have apes?
Be modest...and proud of it!
Help stamp out, abolish and eliminate redundancy!
I couldn‘t care less about apathy.

Table of Contents
Copyright
Introduction
Prologue
The Creoles, who first
Reviews
Cajun Cooking at its Finest
Publisher's Notes
Copyright
NOTE: Click on Category Heading to
Cajun Deviled Eggs
Cajun Shrimp Stock
A Glass of Milk
You Are My Sunshine
Recipe Category
As the settlement expanded, it followed the curve in the Mississippi, t...
Ingredients:
Place dough in a large bowl that has been dusted with flour.
Café au lait
Goin' De Wrong Way
Maque Choux
Ingredients:
Observations of a New Orleans Native:
Oysters Bienville
Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville
Food Humor
Southern Cornbread
Ingredients:
A Glass of Milk
"No," she answered, following him into the kitchen, "Mom...
"Tell me, too," Julia quipped playfully, turning the radio of...
"Let's all have some milk, Mama," Frankie suggested, tugg...
Cornbread and Milk
Thibodeaux was riding past Boudreaux's place and saw him standing out in his
cow pasture. Thibodeaux ...
Bread of Belief
Bayou Banana Bread
Vanishing Ice Cubes
Cajun Crab Cakes
Extra Insurance Money
Fried Alligator
Instructions:
Dreams
"D'ya want my tears in your shrimp chowder?" Myrtle quipped, ...
But Myrtle's simple sincerity was healing - like peroxide in an open cu...
Marie wanted to hug her, to acknowledge the poignancy of a shared inner...
But then again, she thought, there could not be despair where hope had never
thrived. She didn't know...
Stuffed Crab
Recipe Category
Cajun Deviled Eggs
Take hold, take hard, take nothing untoward,
Cajun Deviled Eggs
Instructions:
Cities of the Dead
Cajun Dirty Rice
Opelousas, Home to Yam and Jam
The festivities begin on the Wednesday of the last full weekend of Octo...
Opelousas also has an illustrious association with the Kingfish, Huey P...
Boudreaux was going bear hunting, when he came to a fork in the road with a
sign, which read:
Cajun Fried Okra
Instructions:
Trouble sleeping at night
Cajun Potato Salad
Instructions:
Three Cheese Grits
Recipe Category
Cajun Shrimp Stock
Cajun Fishing Story
"Mais, I snuk up behin' dat water moccasin snake and catched him by de head,
and den he wrap...
Cajun Shrimp Stock
Instructions:
You Might be a Cajun If...
Absinthe
Here´s to la fée verte:
"But, I do! I do!" cried their visiting Yankee great-grandson...
Why, even de Injuns..." here, a long pause to light his pipe, "...yep, even de
Injuns knowe...
Boudreau's banker called him in to express his concern over the dismal shape of
his finances. &qu...
Remoulade Sauce
I Would've Married Ya No Matter
A Claim to Fame
Sauce Piquant
Thibodeaux's Parrot
Chef Raphael's
Boudreaux was dining at his favorite bayou cafe, and Thibodeaux was his waiter.
As Thibodeaux brought...
Cocktail Sauce
Brown (demi-glace) or Espagnole Sauce
Roux Sauces
Recipe Category
MIRACLE GUMBO
Approaching the ingenious formation, he praised the boy for his craftin...
But amazed was he, when the morning brought with it a gift equal to his...
Shrimp and Okra Gumbo
Marie Laveau
Oyster Stew
Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival
The centerpiece for many a backyard gathering, a crawfish boil is usual...
Instructions:
Recipe Category
Creole Red Snapper
Embarrassed, Amelia wiped the color from her cheeks - though a school-m...
"In memory of your wife," she said, presenting it to Joey&lsq...
Ingredients:
Love Étouffée
2 tbsp
Crawfish Quiche Ingredients:
Boudreaux Went to the Bayou Bar
Originally developed with only a couple of mansions per block, each man...
Crust Instructions:
Louisiana Hayride
Check de Boat Trailer Lights
Shrimp and Andouille Jambalaya
Braggin’ on Their Husbands
The Sallier Oak
Cajun Fried Shrimp
Instructions:
Surprise Anniversary Gift
Caught Fire to My House
Maque Choux
"Oh! How kind of you...how kind, indeed. Why, that was my Joseph&#...
"Mrs. Prejean! I...well...I can't let you do that," the y...
Shrimp Creole
1½ lbs peeled and deveined shrimp
Billy Dee Becomes a Catholic
The Priest promised to intervene, and paid Billy Dee a visit. Wishing to placate
his neighbors, Billy...
The Anniversary
Cautiously, so as not to tear the mysterious message at its folds, he o...
There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee,
Creole Red Snapper
Instructions:
Candles for Charles
Cajun Blackened Catfish
Boudreaux‘s Short Term Memory Loss
Origin of the Po‘Boy
New Orleans enjoys world renown for its grand cuisine, but it is the po...
Instructions:
Instructions:
Swan Song?
Pray too that ever I adornment be,
Recipe Category
You Are My Sunshine
Cajun Grits
Cajun Rice and Eggs
Make Noise Like a Frog
Bayou Banana Bread
Three Cheese Grits
Texan & His Sprawling Ranch
Clotille Was Going Deaf
Moving right up behind her now, he put his arms around her and asked a fourth
time, "Wad we havi...
Boudreaux and The Game Warden
Recipe Category
French Bread Pudding with Whisky Sauce
Whisky Sauce:
Peace Pralines
I know, he answered silently, looking back to gaze through the distance...
With all the ease of a forgiving smile, she withdrew, from the picnic b...
Pecan Pralines
Instructions:
Isador, Fontenot and Thibodeaux
"Som-tin dun git ya, Fontenot?" Isador asked with real concern, sliding a Jax
beer down the...
"Okay, dat's one...now, wha'dat der?" Fontenot asked, pointing at the rear exit.
"Mais, Isador," answered Thibodeaux, "ebery Cajun along dis bayou knows ya
gots two do...
Stepping closer to his customer, Isador was all smiles, thinking how he had
regained the fifty he had...
Instructions:
Hadacol, a National Nostrum
Bayou Banana Bread
Who Dis Mary Lou
Peach Ice Cream
Instructions:
Louisiana Peaches
Peach Cobbler
Top with the remaining butter pieces and dust with two tbsp granulated sugar.
UFO Landing
Concord Cake
Italian Cream Cake
Cake Instructions:
Add half of the confectioner's sugar and blend until incorporated.
Baton Rouge
Pecan Sandies
Instructions:
National Pecan Sandie Day
Ginger Bread with Whipped Cream
Millionaire Pie
Bananas Foster Recipe
Instructions:
Pecan Pie
Transfer to a 9" pie pan and tuck the overhanging dough underneath itself to
form a thick perime...
Bake on center rack for 20 minutes. Remove from oven and lift off foil and pie
weights (or beans).
Pecan Pie with Ice Cream
One Liners

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Author and Chef Paul Raphael's website:

Published by D&M Publishing

Cajun Cuisine and More Volume 1, Kindle eBook

The author's interest in native cuisines is one of hands-on discovery. Born to

Please visit our website at www.Paul-Raphael.com

Louisiana cuisine is exquisitely unique - much loved, seldom surpassed - the

French cuisine is considered the primary influence in Louisiana dishes, but

Louisiana, as it appeared in 1856

Clever, captivating, delicious...three words that describe this fantastic story

A cookbook with stories? Wonderfully unique!

Free preview of the Sampler Edition of Cajun Cuisine and More

Cajun Appetizers & Snacks

Cajun Side Dishes

Sauces, Stocks, Spices, Stuffing, Etc.

Cajun Gumbos, Stews & Boils

Cajun Breakfast Dishes

Beignets & Café au lait

Maque Choux with Crawfish Tails

Cornbread and Milk

Quick Shrimp Appetizer

Bayou Banana Bread

Cajun Crab Cakes

Shrimp and Corn Chowder

Cajun Dirty Rice

Louisiana Sweet Potato Casserole

Cajun Fried Okra

Cajun Potato Salad

Three Cheese Grits

Cajun Cornbread Stuffing

Cajun Seasoning Recipe

Mother Sauces Article

Shrimp and Corn Chowder

Stove Top Crawfish Boil

Cajun Shrimp Étouffée

Cajun Crawfish Quiche

Sauce Piquant with Fish

Savory Baby Vidalia Onion Tart

Shrimp and Andouilee Jambalaya

Cajun Fried Shrimp

Smothered Pork Chops

Maque Choux with Crawfish Tails

Fried Catfish Filets

Creole Red Snapper

Fried Crawfish Po‘Boy

Cajun Shrimp Fettuccini

Cajun Rice and Eggs

Bayou Banana Bread

Three Cheese Grits

Beignets & Café au lait

Cajun Crawfish Quiche

French Bread Pudding

Sweet Potato-Molasses Pie

Bayou Banana Bread

Peach Ice Cream

Italian Cream Cake

Gingerbread with Whipped Cream

Faith, Hope, Love...these three...

Cajun Fishing Story