Whether you’re buried in 10 feet of snow, or basking in more winter favorable climes, February is a great time to inject a bit of heat–New Orleans style– into your kitchen. Here for my niece’s wedding, we’re spending a week in the Garden District, VRBOing a home built in the 1850’s with a front porch large enough to accommodate a family reunion.
New Orleans is a country unto itself; a city of jubilant excess where less is never more; a city that suffers fools gladly, especially when they’re three sheets to the wind with a wad of ready green. And Mardi Gras is in the air.
It’s in the purples and greens decorating the Creole cottages, shotgun houses and palatial mansions in the Garden District; in the waft of spilled rum on Bourbon Street; in the outstretched arms, begging for beads flung down from floats parading down Charles, and strewn from iron lattice balconies. Certainly it’s in the salty chew of mortadella in a muffaletta sandwich as big as the Mississippi. Mardi Gras, 2015, is in the slideshow below…
I’ve visited this city many times through the years. Every time the plane glides down the Louis Armstrong airport runway, I check my common sense—indeed, my brain—at the gate, allowing myself to be swept into the Bacchanalian vibe with abandon. A culture unto itself, New Orleans has its own brand of music, speech, worship, and certainly its own brand of cooking.
It’s said that New Orleans is a city with thousands of restaurants and only one menu. That’s far from the reality, but if the statement holds a kernel of truth, oh what a menu the landscape has created.
I made the following recipe before I left Ann Arbor, the ingredients a gift from Stephanie and Tom Teague, former Ann Arborites who now call Nola their home (lucky ducks).
Covid-fatigue. Election fatigue. Looky, looky––the country’s in free-fall! I’m sick of reading about it–the words I type, are embarrassed to add to the cacophony. To stay mentally well, we need to create our own distractions. Stop the noise, right? So pour me another glass of wine. You say the bottle’s empty? Open another while you’re up from the couch. Flash to tomorrow–searing hangover. Wasn’t … Full recipe post »
This morning I woke up from a nightmare. I was the cooking wench for the House of Stark in their ancestral castle of Winterfell, located in Westeros, the northernmost province of the Seven Kingdoms. I had just pulled these birds from the pit as winter fell, promising to linger for many, many years. Yes, indeed. The weather is a … Full recipe post »
Taste buds prickle; wanderlust triggered. An Argentine barbecue (asado)
enticed me to Patagonia. A friend gave me a vial of ground sumac berries--4 months later I was
waking at dawn to the "Call To Prayer" in Turkey. Porcini to Tuscany, and so on. Read more about my chronicles of
trips and favorite associated recipes. Browse my travel recipes...
Here are ideas gleaned from others that speak to me;
where I highlight projects that bring friends, neighborhoods, and communities together. For me,
complimentary food makes the project and event more fun. Browse my projects and related recipes...