Published May 7th, 2010.

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Thoroughgoing foodies have been wiping their collective mouths over one of the hot new trends in American eating, the food truck. Baton Rouge is often a few years behind the curve when it comes to embracing culinary innovation. However, many an envious palate have followed the likes of LA’s Kogi Korean BBQ Tacos or the Sprinkle Cupcake Van. Austin and New Orleans have food trucks, but until recently, most food in Red Stick has been of the sedentary variety.

How many new places have to open to indicate a local food trend? After its second week in business the Latte e Meile gelato truck could be seen as a 100% growth in the tiny Baton Rouge mobile food market. The bright red Ninja Snowball wagon beat them to it. They have been peddling sweet, shaved ice on corners around LSU and downtown for about a year. Jared Loftus of Ninja Snowballs says he and a few other savvy investors have a taco truck in the works.  We may be just a few four-wheeled kitchens away from a legitimate food revolution.

These are not the steaming aluminum commissaries of old. For some, the idea of a food truck brings to mind a cup of burnt coffee and a plastic wrapped tuna sandwich sold outside of some Rust Belt muffler factory. Modern food trucks are an entirely different creature. Freed from the fixed costs of a traditional restaurant, food trucks are often able to offer their fare at lower prices. The small size of the trucks imposes limitations on the number of dishes they can offer. In other cities this has not proven to be a detriment but instead has prompted fanciful fusion like the above mentioned Kogi.

Something about the food truck excites owners and patrons alike. They bring out our youthful excitement for the ice cream man and then reward us with creative and delicious snacks. While many businesses have recognized the importance of social media sites like Facebook and Twitter, food trucks have artfully utilized them almost from the beginning.

What better way to know where to pick up your next cup of Ponchatoula Sorbet than to check out the LeMGelato Twitter feed from Latte e Miele? A mobile restaurant with an ever-changing menu needs a way to quickly communicate their location and specials to their fans. Twitter in particular has proven to be the perfect match for these roving purveyors. Whenever a new tweet goes up from one of our two food trucks, the scratchy Mancini style jingle that signaled an approaching King Cone or Push Up plays through my head and I begin fumbling for change as I head for the door.

We in Baton Rouge may often find ourselves a few steps behind some innovations but mobility, the Internet and enthusiastic entrepreneurs are doing their best to close some of those gaps.  It does not hurt that as we move into another hot, southern summer, they are doing it with Technicolor snowballs and ice cream. The future never tasted so good.

Follow Ninja Snowballs on Twitter at NinjaSnowballs.

Follow the Latte e Miele Gelato Truck at LeMGelato.

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Published April 29, 2010.

My brother recently returned from a meeting of the American Society of Religious Scholars. He reported the both sad and charming site of a gaggle of swooning PhD students surrounding the owlish, ex-Servite monk, John Dominic Crossan as he made his way to the lectern to hold forth on the subject of 1^st century Assyrian papyrus manufacture or something equally arcane. One imagines Crossan could sweep through the will-call line of a performance by the cast of Jersey Shore without causing a single, tanned brow to be raised. 

Food writing may have a larger audience than early biblical studies but both are dwarfed by more popular subjects in the public consciousness. Perhaps it is our tenuous place in the market of ideas that makes us, the faithful remnant, cling so tightly to our stars. It is the loving dedication and unglamorous slog that makes attention to our little private passions so intense.

Sitting in the lecture room at the Southern Food and Beverage Museum in New Orleans, surrounded by a self-selected population of culinary devotees, it is clear that the line between the aficionado and the true oddball is more muddled than a top-shelf Highball. This personal reflection washed over me as I realized I was two minutes into a high-minded diatribe on the New Mexican Green Hatch Chile. The star we were all there to hear, John T. Edge, looked at me with a mixture of pity and boredom, nodded as I wrapped up my incoherent spiel and, to the relief of all present, moved on to the next question. We say such dumb things in the presence of people we admire.

John T. was there to celebrate the publication of the Southern Foodways Alliance’s 5^th edition of Cornbread Nation and to promote the release of the Oxford American’s second food issue which he had guest edited. The OA food issue contains some the finest, most insightful and funny food writing you are likely to see this year. If there is a modern inheritor of the tradition begun by M.K. Fisher then you will find them somewhere within Cornbread Nation and the OA food issue.

The Southern Food and Beverage Museum, located in the River Walk and impishly abbreviated as SoFAB, is a food geek paradise. Exhibits cover Louisiana’s hot sauces, the Spanish origins of Tasso, snow cones and a passel of other edible obscurities. In addition to their continuously displayed content SoFAB organizes almost weekly events for those given over to a slightly deeper than normal interest in grits or, say, the chilies of the southwest. Variations of the crab cake with cooking demonstration and tasting, the recently developed fragrant, hybrid rice called Jazzman, bitters and its use in southern cocktails: these are the sort of subjects SoFAB lays before the congregation of the hungry.

We who love food-eating it, cooking it, writing about it, reading about it, dreaming deeply about it, also love our celebrities. On a good weekend food lovers of all sorts can sate themselves at SoFAB. On top of the levee, between the wide river and the humid city, there is a prime spot for enthusiasts of the tasty, local and authentic. However, if you happen to run into a luminary of the field, someone on whom you would like to make a good impression, then be sure not to say anything too stupid.

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Published April 22, 2010.

Fans of locally grown produce can get a little testy as the winter drags on. If you try to buy most of your vegetables at roadside stands or our excellent Red Stick Farmer’s Market then the whole world may start to look a little like a cabbage even as the trees are budding out in early April. Happily, spring is here and with it come a variety of seasonal treats. The strawberries have been much fawned over and some growers even have red and yellow bell peppers but for the next few weeks my seasonally obsessed palate is focused on asparagus. Buddy Miller’s farm in Waterproof is so productive right now that at last Saturday’s market his cherubic face was barely visible behind a mountain of thin, delicate and soft asparagus.

If you are already a believer in the virtues of local produce then these vegetables need little boosterism. However, if you are still unsure as to what all this foodie effusion over being a ‘locavore’ is all about then fresh asparagus just might enlighten you. Even if you don’t have much interest in the environmental side of eating local (reducing fuel consumption or supporting local agriculture, for instance) then the quality of freshly picked produce should more than quiet any doubts. The further food has to travel then the earlier it has to be picked. So, if your asparagus just needs take a trip down Highway 65 as opposed to a flight in from Lima, Peru then it can be harvested and sold at its peak. If you doubt that there is a difference then try a little of our locally grown asparagus, lightly grilled and dressed with a quick Hollandaise. Or, whip up a soup with some Louisiana lump crabmeat. A few recipes follow.

Winter’s cabbage doldrums may try even the most devoted farmer’s market fan, but eating seasonally available produce is its own reward. As the earth plods along on its annual trip around the Sun we are treated to a changing bounty of fresh vegetables. Soon the peppers will appear by the bushel, sweet corn and peas will tumble like an avalanche off of the farmer’s tables. Basil, tomatoes, peaches and squash will be there too but for these few weeks in early spring our winter long patience is rewarded with asparagus. If only we could use it in dessert.

Grilled Asparagus with Hollandaise Sauce Recipe

Creamy Asparagus and Crab Soup Recipe

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Published April 12, 2010.

They have been menacing me from the counter top for several weeks now. Unmoving, fixed orbs in an acidy brine, how many times I have thought of opening the jar and instead just had some crackers. These pint jars of pickled quail eggs have checked my normally boundless enthusiasm for southern foodstuffs.  They have stopped my culinary curiosity cold.

Like a child standing on the edge of the high dive I have tried to talk myself into eating them. I like eggs. I like pickles. So, I should love the two in combination. Many of my thoroughgoing foodie friends like them. What is there to be afraid of? Everybody is doing it. And yet, I have made it a good way into life without eating a pickled egg.

Maybe it is the memory of a murky gallon of pickled chicken eggs wedged between the payphone and revolver strapped cash register at Tabby’s Blues Box that gives me pause.  The presence of serve-yourself pickled anything is not usually the hallmark of fine dining. I have even tucked into a bowl of congee and hundred year eggs (supposedly cured with horse urine) in Beijing, but some unconquerable reticence keeps me from eating the eggs.

High acid solutions like vinegar prevent the growth of bacteria, thus the longevity of the gerkin and bread and butter dill. And when an acidic liquid is combined with protein a process called denaturing occurs making such delights as ceviche possible.  I know the basic food science of the pickled egg, but they still seem pretty unappealing.

Like cracklins or smoked sausage, pickled quails eggs are made by a profusion of local operators.  Jars upon jars of the things line the shelf above the meat cooler at the Best Stop in Scott. I have jars of them made in Columbia, Louisiana and from some place called Windy Hill Farms (perhaps not the most fortuitous name given pickled egg’s reputation for causing stomach upset).  They are all certified Louisiana products, the stamp is right there on the label, and they are all unopened.

When the Country Roads staff and I first discussed starting this food blog I even suggested that I could write about my first experience with pickled quail eggs. I have eaten the stuffed pig’s stomach the Cajuns call ponce, stir fried brains, jowls and other odd bits because I wanted to try them. Why now, when being paid for the privilege, do I balk at a little pickled egg?

It is a gloomy day in the career of a food writer when you realize that you have come face to face with the abyss and opted for turkey on wheat. There it is, pickled eggs are a bridge too far. It is important to know your limitations in this life and I guess I have discovered mine. Still, I may try them one day, but until then we will exist uncomfortably together, the eggs in my kitchen and I. With all that vinegar and red pepper, at least I know they won't go bad.

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Published March 31, 2010.

Some time ago my uncle asked me to participate in an auction for BREADA, the Big River Economic and Agricultural Development Alliance. He proposed that I cook a meal using ingredients from our excellent Red Stick Farmer’s Market (a BREADA project) in the home of the highest bidder. Happily for all, Peter and Linda Truitt won the auction and last night they opened their Saint Francisville home to me, my uncle, and six other diners for a seasonal meal. It did not hurt that Peter and Linda spend most of the year in Oregon and thus has some exceptional west coast wines to offer. The menu follows as well as a recipe for the vinaigrette that dressed the radish sprouts that were then topped with jumbo lump crabmeat tossed in a little mayonnaise and lemon juice. Thanks to the Truitts and to BREADA for making this wonderful night possible; we could not have picked a more pleasant time to be among the blooming Red Buds and Dogwoods of West Feliciana. See you at next year's auction!

BREADA Charity Auction Dinner Menu

• Roasted Winter Vegetable Cream Soup with Ginger and Chorizo
• Jumbo Lump Crab Meat on Radish Sprouts with a Molasses, Garam Masala Vinaigrette
• Blue Verain Honey Marinated Shrimp on Creole Onion and Fontina Polenta
• Cream Cheese Pound Cake with a Raw Strawberry Sauce and Belle Ecorce Goat Cheese

Molasses, Garam Masala Vinaigrette Recipe...

Published March 17, 2010.

Any dish that rises to the level of a local specialty is going to generate a lot of opinions. South Louisiana has so many indigenous dishes that a conversation about how to make etouffee or gumbo or corn bread can sound more like a riot than a recipe swap. People often feel that their great-uncle’s method for making sauce picante is the right and only way to prepare the dish. They will brook no debate on the subject.

I take a different view; I do not think that there is any one perfect way to make a dish. This goes doubly for our local cuisine. It should be remembered that most of it is humble food, made from available ingredients and largely dependent on the season and the cook's resources. I would rather put aside strident entreaties about how things should be done and instead present what has worked for me.

Red Beans and Rice may be one of the most beloved dishes in our regional pantry, so I know I am treading on sacred ground here, but what follows is a general discussion of the dish. Or, it is a distilled, collective history, as I understand it. Any anecdotes, studies or genealogies of this staple of Wash Day are welcomed and appreciated.

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Published March 3, 2010.

Mine was a Thin Mint home. Occasionally, Trefoils would make an appearance and a box of Thanks-A-Lots once crossed the threshold but, in the main, Girl Scout Cookie season meant Thin Mints. To be sure, there is nothing wrong with a Thin Mint. They lack the milk sopping abilities of an Oreo. But as chocolate wafer cookies go, the Thin Mint is a reliable, if somewhat ho-hum, treat. My mother’s love of chocolate and outright disdain for coconut being what it was, Girl Scout Cookie season, for my brothers and I, was a steady diet of Thin Mints.

Several months ago, in a final act of rebellion against maternal tastes, I bought a bag of coconut cookies. The Red Stick Farmer’s market was busy with people buying their winter vegetables, live Lake Salvador Crabs and artisanal breads. I don’t eat a lot of cookies, but as I lugged my bags of greens and baguettes past a long table crowded with miniature cakes, brownies and other treats, I was drawn to the coconut cookies.

My mother had always been so strident in her disavowal of coconut that I had never known an Almond Joy; a macaroon never crossed my lips. But, there I stood, eyeing the small bag of pale, oval cookies all fringed with shaved coconut. The diminutive and grandmotherly woman behind the table (herself not much bigger than a Girl Scout) began to entice me toward sugary indulgence, as grandmothers will do. Before I could think to ask for a glass of milk, my cookies and I were already in the car. And that first sublime, nutty, chewy bite was my gateway into the world of coconut cookies and beyond.

It is Girl Scout Cookie season again and my confectionery world is much broader than ever before. So, it should be no surprise that when leaving the grocery store on a recent Sunday, I saddled up to Troop 101’s table of delights, hailed the little mint-green tagalong pusher manning it, and ordered one of everything.

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Published March 1, 2010.

What's your favorite Hubig's flavor?

Published February 22, 2010.

Lent is upon us. For many in south Louisiana that means some sort of fast. Traditionally, one tasty way of coping with the abstinence of Lent is Gumbo Z’Herbes or Green Gumbo. Often, meat is omitted from this lovely soup, but, if you feel like cheating a smidge, then add some smoked sausage or tasso (as we do below) to round it out. Gumbo Z’Herbes is just fine without any meat in part because it uses the wealth of ingredients produced in our winter gardens. This is the time of year for mustard and turnip greens, collards and spinach. So, whatever your method for surviving the 40 repast, look to prime seasonal ingredients for a great meal. All of these greens came from the Saturday, Red Stick Farmer’s Market and should be available for several more weeks. The Tasso came from Ronnie’s Boudin and Cracklin House on Florida Boulevard. Eat local.

Gumbo Z’Herbes

2 Large Bunches of Mustard Greens, soaked and hard parts removed
1 Bunch of Baby Spinach, likewise
1 Bag of Arugula, maybe 3 cups loosely packed
2 Garlic Cloves, minced
1cup Onion, chopped
1 Bunch of Green Onions, white portion removed and remains chopped
5 cups Water
¼ cup Dry Vermouth
½ tsp. Oregano, dried
½ tsp. Thyme, dried
¼ tsp. Cayenne Pepper
1lb Tasso, cut up to ¼ inch
3 cups Chicken Stock
1Tbsp. Olive Oil
1tsp. Salt
½ cup Brown Roux ( ¼ cup flour and ¼ cup vegetable oil, browned slowly)
Crystal Hot Sauce, to taste

Cook the tender portions of the Mustard Greens and Spinach in the water for about an hour or until tender. Remove from heat, retain the cooking water and allow the greens to cool while you prepare the Roux in a heavy pot. Remove the Roux and set it aside, and in the same heavy pot add the Olive Oil and render the Tasso for about 10 minutes. Add the Onion, Garlic, Green Onion, Arugula, Oregano, Thyme, Salt and Cayenne. Cook until the Onions are translucent or for about 15 minutes over medium high heat. Add the Vermouth to deglaze. Chop the now cooled greens into smallish pieces. Add to the pot along with about 2/3 of the retained cooking liquid. Add the Stock. Simmer for 30 minutes. Stir in the Roux, holding back any extra oil that may be on top. Cook for another 15 minutes then add the Hot Sauce. Serve over Popcorn Rice or an aromatic long grain variety like Jasmine Rice if you have it.

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Published February 11, 2010

This soup owes a lot to the Cabbage Soup served at New York’s Vesleka in the East Village. But, it is also a function of seasonal and local availability as well as what you happen to have in your refrigerator. Cabbage is very forgiving and is also a great canvas for displaying other tastes and textures. So, don’t go out and buy a ton of ingredients; if you don’t have fiery hot, Korean pickled cabbage (Kimchi) on hand, then just throw in some sauerkraut. If you want to make the dish vegetarian then omit the heavily smoked Tasso and substitute some Smoked Paprika or a few tablespoons of Molasses. This should be uncomplicated comfort food that relies on what is easily available. All that said, below is the method for making a soup that is perfectly suited to combating the drizzly cold weather we are trudging through.

1 Large Head of Cabbage, cut into pieces no larger than 1 inch square
¾ cup Kimchi, chopped up and the liquid reserved
1lb New Potatoes. I used Reds but Yukon Golds would be nice
½ lb Tasso, cut into ½-inch pieces
2 Tbsp. Minced Garlic
1tsp. Dried Thyme
½ Tbsp. Dried Mexican Oregano, Mediterranean would be fine
5 Whole Allspice Berries
1½ oz Oloroso Sherry
12 oz American Style Lager, Bud works just fine
½ cup White Vinegar
1Tbsp. Salt, more to taste
1tsp. Ground Black Pepper
½ cup Heavy Cream (optional)
7 cups Vegetable Stock, homemade is better, Chicken or Pork works too
2 Tbsp. Olive Oil

First, heat the Olive Oil in a large Dutch Oven over medium heat. Add the cut up Tasso and brown the meat, then remove it. To the hot Oil add the Onions and sauté them until they begin to color. Add the Garlic and stir for about 30 seconds. Add the Sherry and Beer and deglaze the pan.

Any solid bits should release from the bottom of your cooking surface. The French call these brown lovelies Fond and they pack a lot of flavor owing to a process called the Maillard reaction.

Allow the mixture of alcohol and aromatic root vegetables to cook together for about 5 minutes, or until much of the liquid has boiled away. Add the Thyme, Oregano and Allspice as well as the Salt and Pepper, and stir to combine.
Now stir on the Potatoes and the Browned Tasso that you had reserved, also add the chopped Kimchi and about half of the reserved liquid (no more than a ¼ cup—this stuff is potent). Allow the mixture to return to a steady simmer then add White Vinegar. Many people are convinced that White Vinegar is good for little else than cleaning and canning. While White Vinegar does not have a broad flavor profile it does an uncluttered acid twang that is nice this dish. If you have omitted Kimchi in favor of Sauerkraut then you might want to go easy on the Vinegar.

Begin adding the chopped Cabbage. An entire head of cabbage takes up a lot of room once you take it apart so you may have to ease portions of the Cabbage into the pot and then wait a minute while it wilts down. This process will be aided by adding some or all of the Stock to the pot. Once you have incorporated all of the water allow the whole creation to simmer, covered and on low heat for about 30 minutes or until the potatoes are tender and the cabbage is also soft enough to eat.

Use an immersion blender to puree a portion of the soup but don’t go crazy. This soup is nicest when it has thickened a bit from the puréed starch of the potatoes but also has nice chunks of vegetable and Tasso.

Finish your creation with the cream but add it only after you have tasted the soup for Salt and spice. If you think you can take it, add a bit more of the Kimchi liquid. After you have added the cream and stirred it into your concoction, remove the pot from the heat. If you want to go light on the cream then top with some Sour Cream or Yogurt. A Poached Egg also works nicely in this soup, just be sure to poach it in another container and not to cook it too long. Lump Crabmeat would not be unwelcome.

This soup works nicely with a mildly fruity or sweet wine like a Gewürztraminer or Riesling and can be served along side other seasonal treats like Roasted Brussels Sprouts or a Pork Loin. But, this is a fusion dish. It will go well with a variety of things, grilled Pork Sausage, Crab Cakes, Lemon and Rosemary Chicken thighs—Go wild.

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