It's rainy in New Orleans today, a peaceful respite after a glorious week of Technicolor. It started with a great event at Anthropologie (for which I will soon have a craft tutorial and a giveaway) and continued with days spent in inspired surroundings with inspired individuals. I have been saturated in color and creativity, a gift to my spirit.
Next week I'll get back to business. Have a great weekend and a happy Mother's Day!
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The perk of going to the swamps as a first grader, however, is that you get to do things the grown-ups don't. Ranger Stacy made us turn off our cell phones and speak in a "nature" voice as we dipped nets into the swamp vegetation and then picked through mud and plants to find the many creatures living there, which we then put in clear bins so we could get a better look at them. I admit, I was caught off guard when the almost grown crawfish came lurching out of an impossibly small clump of mud like a drunken sailor, but overall, I think my son was impressed that I wasn't too much of a scaredy cat. You also get to play "Swamp Bingo" as a first grader, which forces you to look for things you might normally miss, like the hidden alligators with only their eyes popping out of the water, or snakes and frogs and spiderwebs and every other creature that sends first graders into a paroxysm of delight.
I can't wait to return, this time as an adult (but hopefully with the sharp eye of a first grader). Park admission is free, the boardwalk neverending as it wends its way deep into the swamp, and it's one of the most peaceful places I can think of. It's also one of the great treasures of my region - it's a shame that I've not made more of it.
For those of you who may take a trip to New Orleans in the future, it's well worth your time to go. They're open daily, except Christmas Day and Mardi Gras Day. The Visitor's Center is open from 9 am - 5 pm, but I was told that the nature trails remain open, in case you're up for an early morning walk. You can simply park outside the gates and walk in. And if you're there during the summer (or even spring, fall, and possibly winter), don't forget the sunscreen or insect repellent. We were lucky yesterday with little sun and no mosquitos, but it was just a gift from the gods!
A field trip isn't the best time to take photographs, but I can never help myself. I always feel an overwhelming need to capture some segment of it, but the entirety of it is so much greater than what can be captured through a lens and I find myself needing to go back the moment I leave.
I love the delicate, feathery fronds of the cypress trees as spring arrives.
The inhabitants of the swamp are all experts in camouflage.
It's a botanical wonderland inside the swamp. Swamp lilies, ferns, mosses, even blackberries, are abundant in the narrow waterways.
Getting what little sun he can from the day.
Spiders - Nature's original crafters. The symmetry is just amazing to me.
Net finds:
My drunken sailor (a.k.a. the crawfish)
The predaceous diving beetle. What looks like a fancy beaded shell is actually an entire layer of beetle eggs (ewwww, but WOW!). How cool and efficient is that?!
Newts and slugs and the tiniest crawfish I've ever seen.
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For a third year I've had the pleasure of connecting with Internet friends on terra firma, this time here in New Orleans. You might expect a wild weekend, women set loose in the city, but we laughed at ourselves as we happily practiced calligraphy on a Friday night. Kindred spirits. Not that it was all lettering practice. There was a beauty night, some shopping, lots of walking, a little daytime photography and architectural gawking, homemade ice cream, and a good amount of eating and talking. A perfect girls weekend.
Tristan stayed an extra day so we could focus on photography together. I love shooting in the daytime, but I really come alive at night. So we spent the last evening specifically searching for light sources to shoot, inspired by the moody, mysteriously murky photographs of Rocky Schenck. We had such fun, crawling the streets from the French Quarter through Uptown, darting in and out of the car to shoot vignettes. I came home with that happy, breathless feeling you get when you've reached creative nirvana. And as much fun as I might have had doing it alone, it was so much better with a partner.
By the way, if you're looking to improve your photography, I highly suggest exercises like this. By narrowing your focus to a specific technique, mood, or object to shoot, I find it's easier to achieve creative flow. Observing the world in its entirety can be overwhelming, but looking for specific details forces you to filter out the excess.
I'll be back this week with a recipe for Toasted Fig Leaf Ice Cream, an experiment I tried over the weekend after tasting it at La Petite Grocery. And I'm going to try hard not to be such a stranger here!
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For every celebration involving cake (such as my son's birthday party), there's a typical scenario that plays out in my house:
A) Son presents mom with complex, highly detailed plan of cake that she'll never be able to accomplish in this lifetime.
B) Mom suggests that this time a professional will need to be consulted.
C) Son looks at mom with a long face and mentions how disappointed he'll be if she doesn't make the actual cake part herself.
D) Negotiations commence and scaled back design plans go into effect.
E) Last minute curveball.
F) Mom makes cake (or cupcakes) with a simple design, son is happy and applauds efforts.
...every time. This year started with a plan for a football cake - full field, lots of detailing, right down to the look of the football players. And if I'd let him continue, there'd have been a stadium full of people, too. So we get through Step D and then my son decides the night before his party that he doesn't really want a general football party any more, it should be a Saints football party, and those 48 cupcakes already baked would look really good if they just had gold liners instead of the silver they were sporting...
Fortunately for my son, I have a lot of experience working with editors and clients who have last minute brainstorms, so his curveballs don't throw me. I tweaked, we had the party, he loved the cupcakes, declared them magnificent (with his mouth full, of course), and all was a great success.
But there's a greater issue that comes up when we decide to do cupcakes in the traditional flavors that he always requests. I have great yellow and chocolate cake recipes, but they just don't translate to cupcakes. Both are too moist and tender to hold up as a cupcake and they never dome enough, so I end up compensating with too much frosting. So I've cycled through recipe after recipe, looking for the best cupcake recipes I can find (because we both have exacting expectations of the taste, if not the design).
I've been almost satisfied at times, but this time I finally have some real keepers (which is the reward you get when you clean a small corner of your office and discover recipes pulled in 2008). Both cupcake recipes are from Food & Wine, as is the white buttercream. The milk chocolate frosting is from the Food Network and it's perfect for the yellow cupcake (and finicky children). So next year, when I find myself having the same conversation, at least I'll know I'm no longer facing the challenge of the cupcake as well. I'll take success where I can find it!
Chocolate Cupcakes:
(makes 12)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup water
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons unsweeted cocoa powder (not Dutch Process)
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 large egg
1/4 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper or foil liners.
2. In a small saucepan, melt the butter with the vegetable oil and water over low heat.
3. In a large bowl, sift the flour with the sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt. Add the melted butter mixture and beat with a handheld mixer at low speed until smooth. Add the egg and beat until incorporated, then add the buttermilk and vanilla and beat until smooth, scraping the bowl as necessary. Pour the batter into the lined muffin tin, dividing the batter equally among the cups.
4. Bake the cupcakes in the center of the oven for 23-25 minutes, until springy and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let the cupcakes cool slightly, then transfer them to a rack to cool completely.
White Buttercream:
(enough to generously frost 12 cupcakes)
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
2 cups confectioners' sugar, sifted
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
2 tablespoons milk or heavy cream (I used half-and-half which gave me a slightly stiffer frosting that held up to summer heat and humidity)
In a medium bowl, using a handheld electric mixer, beat the softened butter at medium speed until smooth. Add the confectioners' sugar, vanilla extract and salt and beat the mixture at low speed just until combined. Increase the mixer speed to medium and beat until smooth. Add the milk or heavy cream and beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes.
Golden Cupcakes:
(makes 12 cupcakes)
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1 1/4 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup milk, at room temperature
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper or foil liners.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk the flour with the cornstarch, baking powder and salt.
3. In a large bowl, using a handheld electric mixer, beat the sugar with the eggs and vanilla extract at medium-high speed until smooth and thickened slightly, about 3 minutes. Add the butter and oil and beat until incorporated, scraping the bottom and side of the bowl. Add the dry ingredients and milk in 3 alternating batches, beating well between additions. Carefully pour the batter into the lined muffin tins, dividing the batter equally among the cups.
4. Bake the cupcakes in the center of the oven for 20 - 23 minutes, until springy and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let the cupcakes cool slightly in the muffin tin, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
My Notes: I was baking these cupcakes in a pale colored, nonstick pan. Generally, I know that you lower the oven temperature by 25 degrees when cooking in dark, nonstick pans, but I didn't know if that also applied to the lighter color. So I made two batches and there was definitely a difference. I preferred the cupcakes baked at 325 for the same amount of time, even though they were barely colored. The cupcake with the slightly more golden exterior seemed a little dry. However, I baked the chocolate cupcakes in the same pan at 350 and they were perfect. So you might want to try baking the golden cupcakes at the lower temperature or check them just a bit earlier if baking them at 350.
Milk Chocolate Frosting:
(enough to generously frost 12 cupcakes)
3 1/2 ounces milk chocolate
3 ounces semisweet chocolate
2 cups confectioners' sugar, sifted
1/4 cup whole milk
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
1. Put the chocolate in a medium microwave-safe bowl. Melt at 50 percent power until soft, about 1 minute. Stir, and continue heat until completely melted, about 1 to 2 minutes more.)
2. Add the confectioners' sugar, milk, butter, vanilla extract, and salt and beat with an electric mixer until smooth and creamy.
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It's difficult to get my son to eat and it drives me crazy. He's got a sweet tooth, so he thinks I'm the world's greatest baker, but dealing with real food is always a challenge. He's smart enough to know that the packaged kid foods don't taste all that great, so he turns his nose up at those, but he'll look at other things and decide they're "ugly," and that he's just not tasting them. It goes on and on.
But one thing I can count on is his love of crawfish. Generally, he prefers to eat them at crawfish boils, where he peels some for himself, but always strategically places himself next to an adult who'll drop them in his mouth at a steady pace.
Crawfish season is over, though, so we'll make do with frozen crawfish until next season. Using frozen crawfish (and I only use frozen crawfish from Lousiana - the Chinese crawfish are too watery and don't taste like much), I made étouffée (ay-too-FAY) for my son for the first time. I knew that he'd decide it was "ugly" before tasting it, so I walked him through the recipe, showing him every single ingredient beforehand. He agreed to try it, then told me that he could eat étouffée every day of his life. Success!
This is a really easy dish to make. There's a little chopping and a short cooking time, making it a quick and satisfying dish for a weeknight. And since you may not have access to frozen crawfish, I'm also including a shrimp variation.
Bon appétit!
Crawfish Étouffée
(Serves 3-4)
1 stick unsalted butter (1/4 pound)
2 cups chopped onion (I use yellow)
1 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped bell peppers
1 pound peeled crawfish tails (fresh or thawed)
2 bay leaves
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 cup water
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 tablespoons chopped flat leaf parsley
3 tablespoons chopped green onions (scallions)
1. Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When the butter is foaming, add the onions, celery, and bell peppers and sauté until soft and golden, about 15 minutes. Add the crawfish and bay leaves. Reduce the heat to medium. Stirring occasionally, cook until the crawfish begin throwing off a little liquid (10 to 12 minutes for fresh crawfish tails, 5 or 6 minutes for thawed tails).
2. Dissolve the flour in the water. Add to the crawfish mixture and season with the salt and cayenne. Stir until the mixture thickens, 3 or 4 minutes. Add the parsley and green onions and cook for a couple of minutes, until the parsley is wilted.
3. Remove the bay leaves and serve over steamed rice.
Shrimp Variation:
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cups chopped onion
1 cup chopped bell peppers
1 cup chopped celery
1 teaspoon chopped garlic
1 pound medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 cup water
3 tablespoons chopped flat leaf parsley
1/4 cup chopped green onions (scallions)
1. Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. When the butter is foaming, add the onions, bell peppers, and celery and saute until soft and golden, about 15 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 2 minutes. Add the shrimp, salt, and cayenne, and cook for about 4 minutes, or until the shrimp turn pink and start to curl up.
2. Dissolve the flour in the water and add to the shrimp mixture. Stir until the mixture thickens slightly. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for 6-8 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the parsley and green onions. Stir and cook for a couple of minutes more, until the parsley and onions are wilted.
3. Serve immediately, over steamed rice.
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Ask people who or what inspired their aesthetic and they'll cite any number of influences. But it's taken me a long time to recognize that most of my personal aesthetic is inspired by the unparalleled beauty of trees in the South. Perhaps it's the birthright of a Southerner to have a strong sense of place, but the trees...It's one of the primary reasons I needed to come back home.
At any rate, I was looking through these photos I took a few weeks ago at Afton Villa, where only the gardens remain, and I realized that nearly everything I surround myself with or live with somehow looks good under those trees. Whether it's the colors I choose, the contrast of clean lines played against graceful abundance, or the well loved aspect of my favorite possessions, when you get right down to it, they are intertwined with those trees.
Now I know. And now that I've gotten that glimpse into my decorating psyche, I hope you'll enjoy these photos. I can never quite capture how spectacular these trees are in person, but that never stops me from trying!
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I think if I had to choose a last meal it would come down to sushi or a cheese plate. I suspect the cheese plate would win out in the end because really, it's just pure pleasure served on a plate. But I'm lucky that I don't have to wait for a last meal; I have a fantastic cheese shop within walking distance of my home.
At St. James Cheese Company, every employee is knowledgeable and passionate to the point you feel you're always speaking to the proprietor. I don't even bother making decisions anymore. I tell them I'd like a cheese plate (with three, five, or seven choices) and leave it in their capable hands. I've never been disappointed.
Last week, I had the luxury of a very long lunch of cheese, charcuterie, and wine and I wanted to share the selections they brought for us. Four of the seven were domestic cheeses (which I love!) and I suspect most of them can be found at reputable cheese stores (and if not, ask about them).
Manchego (Spain) - A classic sheep's cheese from Spain (ours was a 6 month-old). Not a surprise for me, but always good. Instead of quince paste, they served it with fresh fig preserves and that was a new experience.
Weybridge (Vermont) - A cow's milk farmstead cheese produced by Scholten Family Farm in Weybridge, Vermont. It has a softened rind with nutty, earthy flavors and a tart finish. Semi-creamy with a denser center that contains citrus notes. I also detected a delicate mushroom aroma to the cheese. Very, very good!
City of Ships (Maine) - This tangy, semi-hard, raw cow's milk cheese was absolutely delightful and I may never have it again unless I'm in Maine. Produced by Hahn's End Farm, this handmade small-batch cheese is only sold regionally, so I was lucky that one of the employees was visiting and brought some home in his bag.
La Jeaune Autize (France) - An aged, washed rind goat's cheese made in a style similar to Morbier. It's a tangy, earthy cheese with a line of vegetable ash running through its center. It was creamier than I expected it to be from appearance and not too sharp.
Green Hill (Georgia) - This soft-ripened cow's milk cheese may have been my favorite of the afternoon. Produced by Sweet Grass Dairy in southern Georgia, it was lush and rich with a buttery creaminess and a sharp tang that gave way to a slight bitterness in the rind. I could have eaten this all day.
Blue d'Auvergne (France) - A creamy, moist cow's milk blue that was strong and pungent like most blues, but perhaps slightly milder than some I've encountered before. Very nice if you're a blue cheese lover.
O'Bannon (Indiana) - This fresh goat's milk cheese from Capriole Farmstead in Greenville, Indiana was a surprise for me, in the very best way. It was dense, almost fudgy, with an unmistakeable fresh, citrusy taste. I'm a big fan of goat cheese anyway, but this was something different. Perhaps it's the fact that they soak chestnut leaves in Woodford Reserve Bourbon before wrapping the cheese. Whatever it is, I'm buying it again!
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I am disaster weary. I have no right to be, nothing has happened to me. But Mother Nature has been a beast around the country and across the globe, so much so that I can't quite process one disaster before another occurs. Still, my heart is heavy today, heavy with the knowledge that many of my neighbors outside of New Orleans will be suffering catastrophic losses this week, suffering losses so that I might stay dry in my city. I understand it intellectually. I'm sure most do. But still, it seems so unfair.
I made the mistake this weekend of reading comments on various stories about the flooding of the Mississippi. So many who stand in judgment, deciding that those who live in disaster prone areas get exactly what's coming to them, that they'll just be another community waiting for a handout. It made me think a lot about home, the place that our heart can never quite leave, the place we feel lucky enough to inhabit.
A sense of place is so prevalent here in the South. Perhaps it's not like that everywhere, maybe I take it for granted. But I know that you can't just plant yourself anywhere in the great wide world and expect that it'll become home. Some places grab you and don't let go, places where you aren't able to tell where your body ends and the Earth begins, part of everything above and beneath you. If you had that, what wouldn't you give to keep that sacred place? I know a lot of my fellow Louisianians understand this.
My husband and I were talking about living here in New Orleans, about the possibility of losing everything and having to start over. Such conversations are commonplace for us, usually just about the time we're entering a new hurricane season. It's a reminder every year, much like the letters the Army Corps of Engineers send out to homeowners in the flood plains annually - we just want to remind you that disaster may occur, we may take away your way of life...For us, we've decided that our experiences here, our passion, outweigh the potential losses. We'll continue to take the risk.
The water gives and the water takes away. I doubt there are any that know that better than the Cajuns. They're resilient and they'll take care of each other, their families, their communities. They'll come back, they'll rebuild on the sacred ground they call home. But still, my heart is heavy on this beautiful sunny day. I am sorry for their sacrifice, so sorry, that it makes it difficult to feel relieved.
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It all started at Pegu Club in New York. My husband came home with the tale of a chance meeting with Ted Breaux, a chemist from Louisiana who was creating an artisanal liqueur from a rare tobacco called Perique, a tobacco that could only be grown in one small area of Louisiana. Being a great romantic at heart, I was immediately intrigued by something so remote and mysterious. I wanted a bottle.
Eventually we acquired this liqueur, which only increased my interest in the cultivation of this rare crop, its planting and harvesting methods passed down to the French from the Native Americans who were in Louisiana at the time. Finally, last summer, with tobacco season in full swing, I set off with my cousin and a friend to St. James Parish, to a small town nestled against the Mississippi River, just an hour away from New Orleans. There, near the end of a dead end road, lay an ancient story, a living history with only a toehold in the present.
We were greeted by Jimmy LeBlanc, a Cajun with a deeply tanned, permanently etched neck and an accent so thick that it required careful listening, who told us the story of this tobacco, his family's passion and livelihood for generations. They were down to harvesting just a few barrels of Perique a year, striving more to keep the tradition alive than to turning a profit.
It was hot and I was sweating in the intense humidity, but the scent of mystery hung low in the air. The barn, with its many tobacco leaves hanging, drying in various stages, smelled sweet and warm. The scent was pleasant, though heady, and we were warned that we might feel sick if we spent too much time in the barn. It happened to each of the workers throughout the season, as they bundled and stripped each tobacco leaf by hand, a labor-intensive process that led to a small amount of the finest, rarest tobacco in the world.
We all had our roles, my cousin asking the right questions, one man of the land to another, my friend capturing the beauty of the details with her camera, and myself, simply listening and observing for future distillation. A small moment in time, a glimpse of the past, a heartbeat in the middle of nowhere. I love this wild, tangled land I'm lucky enough to live in.
This year, the story came full circle and my husband created a cocktail using Perique and tobacco bitters, along with rum, velvet falernum (a clove liqueur), and a drop of chocolate bitters. It's an incredibly smooth, complex drink that's perfect for the gentleman (or cocktail snob) in your life. The ingredients aren't readily accessible, but I wanted to post this cocktail anyway (for the intrepid hunters and gatherers) and because when I drink this cocktail it takes me back to the end of a dead end road where tobacco leaves rustle in the occasional breeze and history lives on.
Tobacco Road
1 3/4 ounces Ron Zacapa Rum
1/2 ounce Perique Liqueur
1/4 ounce John D. Taylor's Velvet Falernum
1/4 ounce fresh lime juice
2 drops Snake Oil Tobacco Bitters
1 drop Bitter Truth Xocolatl Mole Bitters
Combine all ingredients in an ice-filled cocktail shaker. Stir to chill. Strain into a chilled coupe or old-fashioned glass. Garnish with an orange twist.
Note: My husband took creative license with the naming of this cocktail, since Tobacco Road actually refers to the tobacco producing area of North Carolina. I mention this for the know-it-alls who will write to tell me that he got it wrong.
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You don't need an expensive camera to capture great photos. In fact, some of my favorites have been taken with a camera phone or plastic Holga. But if you do invest in a decent camera, you owe it to yourself to invest in a lens that allows creative freedom. I made that leap recently, going from a middling digital camera to a Canon EOS 50D. I got the kit, with its all-purpose lens. But then I also bought a 50mm lens (f1.4) and it's completely changed the way I shoot. In fact, photography is just more fun now.
Ever since my weekend of shooting in the French Quarter, I've been taking walks around my neighborhood at dusk, playing with my camera and getting to know it a little better - learning how things like white balance can completely change the feel of a photograph, or how opening the aperture wide allows for great bokeh effects.
I'm also having more fun shooting for this blog. Still lifes don't fill me with quite as much dread these days, knowing that I can finally achieve the shallow depth of field that I admire in so many beautiful, dreamy photographs. I could never capture that effect with my last camera, a fact that always frustrated me.
The only thing that hasn't changed for me is my photo editing software. I still don't know my way around Photoshop but I find iPhoto to be about as easy as it gets. In the end, they're just tools. But they're tools that have given me a new creative perspective - and that's been worth every penny.
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New Orleans is unique in that it offers its partygoers a portable option for cocktails - the "go cup." Armed with a go cup, you're able to journey from one destination to another without being stopped for an open container. So when my East Coast girlfriends came down for the weekend to celebrate two milestone birthdays, it seemed only fitting to find a go cup that was a few steps above the norm (the norm being plastic - which, legally, is what it's supposed to be).
I went to Cheryl Charming for handmade cocktail rings - vintage glass coupettes attached to adjustable, silver plated rings. We wore them, we drank from them. They were a blast! And should you find yourself coming to New Orleans for a girls weekend, you can have your own, sold here or at Lost and Found.
Even if you're not coming to New Orleans anytime soon, here are the recipes for what we drank that weekend. The Vieux Mot was perfect for our cocktail rings and the Ramos Gin Fizz is a New Orleans classic that swayed even the most reluctant of drinkers among us. Cheers!
Vieux Mot
(created by Don Lee of PDT)
1 1/2 ounces Plymouth gin
3/4 ounce St. Germain elderflower liqueur
1/4 ounce Simple Syrup
3/4 ounce fresh lemon juice
Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into a coupette. Garnish with a Luxardo cherry.
To make Simple Syrup: Bring equal parts water and sugar just to a boil; stir to dissolve sugar. Remove from heat and let cool.
Ramos Gin Fizz
1 egg white
2 ounces Plymouth gin
1 ounce cream
1/2 ounce fresh lemon juice
1/2 ounce fresh lime juice
1/2 ounce Simple Syrup (see above)
4 drops orange flower water
2 ounces club soda
Place all ingredients except the club soda in an empty cocktail shaker and dry shake to emulsify the egg white faster. Add ice to the cocktail shaker and shake VERY well. Strain into a tall, chilled glass with club soda in the bottom. Garnish with an orange twist.
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For a long time I've wanted to get up before sunrise and shoot photographs in the French Quarter. I managed to pull it off this weekend, when several of my East Coast girlfriends descended upon the city to celebrate two milestone birthdays.
Up before dawn with two tired, but enthusiastic partners we made our way down to the Mississippi, just in time to see a magnificent fog rolling in, the sun rising at the same time. It was one of those magical moments and I was so excited to be there, to get to take it all in with my camera.
That experience recharged me creatively and I took more photos over the weekend than I have in a long time. Empty restaurants, streets photographed through the smoke from sparklers at a wedding, lit chandeliers in otherwise darkened storefronts, lights blazing in decaying stairwells...It was a completely new experience for me, photographing my city at times of night and morning when I'm usually sleeping, and I'm already thinking about my next subject matter, the places I want to explore in the near dark. It also reminded me that when you're at a creative ebb, it's sometimes just a matter of stepping outside your comfort zone, forcing yourself to see things in a new light.
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A couple of weeks ago I had a great sandwich at The Lucky Ladle here in New Orleans. It sounded so interesting I couldn't help but order it and I was pleasantly surprised. It was easy to recreate at home, so I thought I'd share it with you.
Smoked Turkey and Strawberry Sandwich
Smoked turkey breast slices
Strawberries (2 or 3 per sandwich), sliced
Baby spinach leaves
Avocado, sliced
Mayonnaise (I added a little balsamic vinegar, to taste)
Sourdough bread
Layer and eat. Light, fresh, perfect for springtime!
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We spent twelve hours at the Mardi Gras parades yesterday, no small feat when young children are involved. My son ended up passing out in my lap during the final parade, waking only to mumble the occasional "Don't miss, mom" as he envisioned me still catching throws for him (he's become a true New Orleanian).
Twelve hours at the parades requires frequent fortification so there's always plenty of food involved. We had BLTs, fried chicken, and lots of Zapp's potato chips in various flavors. And while you'd expect that we'd have king cake, we admittedly broke with tradition and I made these coconut cupcakes instead. They're insanely good and they stay fresh for several days, which is a nice bonus.
I also used this recipe as an opportunity to try out a baking ingredient that I found at King Arthur Flour, a gluten free cake enhancer. It's supposed to make your baked goods lighter, moister, and keep them fresh longer. This cupcake is already wonderfully moist but I wanted to see if I could detect a difference. It turns out that the cake enhancer did lighten up the crumb of the cupcake just a bit and it was even moister on the third day than it was on the second day. So if you have a cake recipe that you love, but tends to dry out too quickly, this might be a good product for you.
Without further ado, here's the cupcake recipe, adapted from The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook. And then I've got more parades to prepare for. Happy Lundi Gras!
Coconut Cupcakes
(makes 24 cupcakes)
3/4 pound (3 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups granulated sugar
5 extra-large eggs, room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 teaspoons pure almond extract
3 cups all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons cake enhancer (optional)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup buttermilk
14 ounces sweetened, shredded coconut
1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.
2. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, 3 to 5 minutes. With the mixer running on low, add the eggs one at a time, scraping down the bowl after each addition. Add the vanilla and almond extracts and mix well.
3. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, cake enhancer (if using), baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In three parts, alternately add the dry ingredients and the buttermilk to the batter, beginning and ending with the dry. Mix until just combined. Fold in 7 ounces of the coconut.
4. Line a muffin pan with paper liners. Fill each cup to the top with batter. Bake for 25 to 35 minutes, until the edges of the cupcake begin to brown and a toothpick comes out clean. Allow to cool in the pan for 15 minutes. Remove to a baking rack and cool completely. Frost with cream cheese frosting and sprinkle with the remaining coconut.
Cream Cheese Frosting
11 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1/2 pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 + 1/8 teaspoon pure almond extract
1 pound confectioners' sugar, sifted
In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, blend together the cream cheese, butter, and vanilla and almond extracts. Add the confectioners' sugar and mix until smooth.
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My husband had to create a cocktail for a Treme charity event taking place this weekend and it needed to have a tie-in to the show. Michael (with his encyclopedic knowledge of every detail and line in any show he watches) recalled that the character Albert Lambreaux was drinking a Strawberry Big Shot (a local soda) in one of the episodes and Lambreaux's Big Shot was born. It's so pretty and it tastes so good, I thought I would share it.
Cheers! Have a great weekend!
Lambreaux's Big Shot
1 1/2 ounces Bulleit Bourbon
2 strawberries
1 basil leaf
1/2 ounce Sugar in the Raw Syrup
1/4 ounce lemon juice
1/8 teaspoon basalmic vinegar
In a cocktail shaker, muddle the strawberries, basil, sugar syrup, lemon juice, and balsamic vinegar. Add the bourbon and ice cubes. Shake, strain into an ice-filled rocks glass. Garnish with a strawberry (cut large strawberries in half) and a basil sprig.
Sugar in the Raw Syrup:
Place equal parts Sugar in the Raw and water in a small saucepan; bring just to a boil. Stir, to dissolve sugar. Remove from heat and cool before using. Store in the refrigerator for up to a month.
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Recently I had the pleasure of dining at Green Goddess, a tiny little restaurant here in New Orleans, staffed entirely by cooks who collaborate on the menu and run the restaurant as well. I had a wonderful breakfast there, simple in concept, but absolutely delicious. So delicious that I knew I needed to recreate it at home so I could be tempted by something else on the menu during return visits (I have a bad habit of loving something at a restaurant and ordering it every time I go).
The dish consisted of sweet potato biscuits with boudin patties, spicy pepper jelly, and cane syrup served alongside truffled grits. Since I could buy most of the ingredients, I really just needed to make the sweet potato biscuits and the grits from scratch. I used a sweet potato biscuit recipe I found in one of my new cookbooks, The Complete Southern Cookbook, and it was no more difficult than making regular biscuits - though it helps to plan ahead and bake your sweet potatoes early on.
Pork boudin (a mixture of seasoned pork and rice) is readily available in my area, but can be mail ordered from The Cajun Grocer. You form it into patties, dip it in a beaten egg, then pan fry it until it's crispy on the outside. Another option for this breakfast, however, is to use a regular pork sausage patty. It won't have the same texture, but it will still taste good. I used Tabasco brand spicy pepper jelly and Steen's cane syrup. Both are generally available at most grocery stores. If you can't find it at yours, you can mail order them from The Cajun Grocer as well.
This was such a good breakfast that I'd happily serve it to guests. In fact, I just may have found my new Mardi Gras breakfast. Though the restaurant served truffled grits, we were satisfied with Quaker Old-Fashioned grits (made with equal parts milk and water) served alongside. The perfect breakfast for a chilly morning.
Sweet Potato Biscuits
(adapted from The Complete Southern Cookbook)
Yield: Makes about 13 biscuits
4 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons baking powder
2 teaspoons kosher salt
8 ounces (2 sticks) unsalted butter
1 cup cooked mashed sweet potatoes
1 cup buttermilk
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Rub a thin layer of shortening or butter on the skin of 2 medium or 1 large sweet potatoes and place on a baking sheet. Bake until soft, approximately 1 hour. When potatoes are cool enough to handle, slit the skin and scoop the contents into a bowl. Mash well and let them cool completely.
2. Raise the oven temperature to 425 degrees. Lightly grease a cast-iron biscuit baker or baking sheet and set aside.
3. In a large mixing bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. Cut in the butter with a pastry blender or 2 forks until the mixture is crumbly.
4. In a separate bowl, stir together the mashed sweet potatoes and buttermilk. Add to the flour mixture, stirring just until moistened.
5. Transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface and knead 4 times. Gently roll the dough out to approximately a 1/2-inch thickness and cut with a 2-inch round cutter. Gently gather together the dough scraps and pat the dough out again, again cutting with a 2-inch round cutter. Transfer to the prepared pan and bake 12 to 15 minutes, or until golden brown. Serve warm.
To assemble:
After the biscuits have cooled just slightly, split them and put a thin layer of pepper jelly on each side. Put a boudin patty on the bottom layer of the biscuit, drizzle some cane syrup on the boudin patty and top with the other biscuit half.
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Wishing all of you a very merry Christmas and a happy new year! May the best be yet to come.
(Also, a shoutout to La Belle Vie Design for our holiday card this year. Thanks for the great design!)
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Calling Bourbon Milk Punch a seasonal cocktail is a bit of a misnomer since New Orleanians imbibe it as a brunch cocktail year round (Hey, I just live here. I don't make the rules!) But it's definitely the season for eggnog and this version has a local spin to it, with the addition of Sazerac Rye and Praline, a pecan liqueur. A little something to make it all just a bit more festive.
Bourbon Milk Punch
2 ounces bourbon (we like to make it with Makers Mark)
2 ounces half-and-half
1 ounce Simple Syrup
1/8 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Shake all of the ingredients in an ice-filled cocktail shaker. Serve neat, or on the rocks. Garnish with freshly grated nutmeg.
Simple Syrup: 1/2 cup water and 1/2 cup sugar. Bring just to a boil; stir to dissolve sugar, then remove from heat. Let cool. Keep refrigerated.
Praline Eggnog:
(makes 2 large drinks)
2 eggs
2 ounces Sazerac Rye
2 ounces Praline Liqueur
1 1/2 ounces Brandy
1 1/2 ounces Simple Syrup
4 ounces whole milk
4 ounces heavy cream
Put all of the ingredients in a blender to combine. Refrigerate until thoroughly chilled. Serve neat with grated nutmeg on top.
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By now, many of you are starting to feel the first hints of fall - a little nip in the morning air, trees starting to change color...This isn't happening here in the South and probably won't for another six to eight weeks. But psychologically, I begin to switch into a fall frame of mind right about now, even if the weather isn't cooperating. For me, it's all about the food.
Fall brings heartier dishes, definitely more meat, and always jambalaya. Truthfully, I love jambalaya year round, but never more so than in the fall and winter. It's just so incredibly satisfying and I can't get enough of it. Like most regional dishes, everyone has their own way of making it. But this is the way I make it - and don't even think of adding tomatoes to mine! I like the Cajun version, brown instead of red. And as far as regional dishes go, it doesn't get much easier than this. Bon appétit!
Jambalaya
(Serves 6-8)
1/2 cup vegetable oil
3 cups chopped yellow or white onions
1 cup chopped bell peppers
3 teaspoons salt
1 1/4 teaspoons cayenne
1 pound andouille sausage (you can substitute another smoked sausage for the andouille), cut into 1/4-inch slices
Approximately 1 pound boneless smoked ham steak, cut into small cubes
Approximately 1 1/2 pounds boneless chicken meat (all white or a mix), cut into 1-inch cubes
3 bay leaves
3 cups medium-grain white rice*
6 cups water
1 cup chopped green onions
*You can use long-grain rice instead of medium, but the texture will be different. Medium-grain makes a slightly wet jambalaya whereas the long-grain makes it a bit drier. It's really personal preference.
1. Heat the oil over medium to medium-high heat in a large cast-iron pot. Add the onions, bell peppers, 2 teaspoons salt, and 1 teaspoon cayenne. Brown the vegetables for about 20 minutes, stirring frequently, until the onions have caramelized and are a dark brown. Add the sausage and cook for 10 to 15 minutes, scraping the sides and bottom of the pot to loosen any browned pieces.
2. Season the chicken with the remaining 1 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon cayenne. Add the chicken, ham, and bay leaves to the pot. Brown the chicken for 6 to 8 minutes (but it's not necessary to cook the chicken all the way through).
3. Add the rice and stir well to combine and coat the rice evenly. Add the water, stir to combine, and bring just to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium, cover the pot, and cook for 20-30 minutes, without stirring, or until the rice is tender and the liquid has been absorbed. Remove the pot from the heat and let it stand, covered, for a few minutes. Remove the bay leaves. Fluff with a fork.
4. Stir in the green onions and serve.
REMINDER: PLEASE take the time to vote in the Better Homes and Gardens contest by following this LINK. Voting for this round will continue through October 10th, and you may vote for your favorite mask once a day. Thank you for the support you've already shown me. I greatly appreciate it!
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(A sign on a house in the lower 9th Ward - almost 3 years after Katrina)
New Orleans is on my mind this week as the 5th anniversary of Katrina approaches. On the day the levees broke and my beloved city began to flood, I was on vacation in Maryland, just feet from a lazy Chesapeake Bay. It became a mockery, those calm waters, over the surreal days that followed, as my heartbreak became complete. It had been years since I'd been a full-time resident of New Orleans, years since the sorrow of my initial departure, but the tears and heartache were all too real, as was the helplessness that so many of us felt, displaced or not.
New Orleans was a city that left its imprint on me early in life. I had an odd childhood here, the observation of sorrow and brutal reality mixed in with the more normal childhood passions of neighborhood friends, games that lasted until daylight faded, bike riding and roller skating and playing dress up. And then there were the unique New Orleans experiences - the fever of Carnival season, crawfish boils and Saturday night seafood dinners with my grandparents, riding the ferry to and from Old Algiers, class field trips to the French Quarter, and weekend beignets at Cafe du Monde.
I lived in a large house, in a terrible neighborhood, where my parents ran a drug rehab center. There were mornings I awoke to junkies on the doorstep, another place setting at the table, cops who might pick up one person and drop off another, a swirl of multihued humanity becoming part of my everyday experience. My neighborhood was so bad that I wasn't allowed outside, except for my comings and goings to private school. Even today, I couldn't tell you much about my neighborhood, because I never really saw much of it. I can tell you what it sounded like, sirens throughout the night. Oddly enough, I can still be lulled to sleep by the sound of sirens, which served me well during my years in New York. There were adults who said it was no place for a child, no life for a child, but I am no worse for wear - perhaps just a bit more observant than the average adult, able to discern sorrow in the most benign of expressions.
My other, more normal, life took place over the weekends. I spent that time with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I had my weekend friends, my weekend toys, and all the experiences that most children in New Orleans encounter in their life here. I loved it. In fact, I loved it all - good and bad.
My immediate family left New Orleans just before I turned eleven. The sorrow of leaving this city is still so vivid to me. It ruined me for any other heartbreak, and I have always been able to say goodbye to other cities with little more than a backward glance. In the eight years that followed, I lived in three more towns and cities, none more than an hour-and-a-half from New Orleans, but it was never the same. There are cities that simply take hold of you and never let go. New York was like that for me, but it was the right city for the person I would become; New Orleans has always been the city for the person I was born to be.
It is no accident that I've returned here. It felt there was no other real choice after Katrina. It is my duty and my pleasure to be here, to help rebuild and strengthen a city. I do this with great love, for this city gave so much to me. And for those who question whether it's really worth it to rebuild, whether we should employ extraordinary measures and spend vast amounts of money to ensure its survival, I say to you with certainty - there's no other city like this city.
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My name is Suzonne Stirling. I'm a professional crafter, wife, and mother and I live and create in New Orleans. I write about all the facets of my creative life, both personal and professional, though like most Southerners, I reserve the right to digress.
