By the Book

Lucie: My mother called last fall to say that, should something have happened to my copy, she found Blessed be the Cooks at an estate sale and it was waiting on the sideboard for me next time I came home to visit. 

Blessed be the Cooks is a cookbook published in 1984 (now out of print) by St. Louis Catholic High School, my alma mater in Lake Charles. I did not own a copy, and I had to wonder (even balk) at the strict necessity of a decades-old local-recipe collection on my shelf. I can whisk, I can debone, I can even tell that it’s not a smart idea to add four slices of Velveeta to that chicken. 

My sister Anne, a degreed cultural anthropologist, could help untangle this riddle. And so I reached out, using a question we’re familiar with asking each other and our three siblings: What was Mom thinking?! (Once answered, by a sharp-tongued cousin: “The same thing she was thinking when she paired that blouse with those pants.”)

Anne: Blessed be the Cooks is far from the only community-cultivated anthology in our parents’ kitchen. The Junior League of Lake Charles produced Pirate’s Pantry in 1976, and our mother turns to no étouffée recipe more often. And what Louisiana kitchen doesn’t contain the titan from the Junior League of Baton Rouge? River Road Recipes: The Textbook of Louisiana Cuisine, along with its three subsequent editions, has kept its finger on the pulse of Louisiana cuisine and nutritional trends since it was first released over fifty years ago. River Road Recipes II: A Second Helping (1976) built on the success of the first with an expanded and revised collection of recipes. 

In 1990, the Nutrition Labeling and Education Act was passed, requiring nutritional labeling on packaged foods, emphasizing nutrient information and regulating the loose marketing applications of words like “low fat” and “light.” Subsequently, the third edition, 1994’s River Road Recipes III: A Healthy Collection, volunteered complete nutritional breakdowns for its recipes as well as healthy updates on popular recipes and tips for preparing a more nutritious plate. 2004’s River Road Recipes IV: Warm Welcomes, offered meal plans and entertaining ideas for the new millennium’s hosts and hostesses, who may not have the time or energy to scour cookbooks orthe Internet for party-planning ideas. 

From its commencement, River Road Recipes has been lauded as a collection of delicious, tried-and-true recipes by local home cooks for local home cooks. These cookbooks act as extensions of the neighborhoods, towns, and cities in which they are founded. More so than most mass-produced cookbooks, River Road Recipes, Blessed be the Cooks, and the like list the author’s name with every recipe, adding a layer of familiar—almost neighborly—assurance. The people you depend on for a borrowed cup of sugar, wave to across your yard, or sit around the kitchen table with are sharing their family’s favorite dishes—what’s more familiar than that? 

These collections have been curated, revised, and passed from generation to generation. As the younger generations mature and begin defining their own unique culinary space, these collections act as cultural totems—keeping Louisiana cooking traditions alive and accessible to the modern cook. 

As Lucie pointed out, the idea of passing on these cookbooks is second nature. After I moved to South Carolina for college, I received my own copy of Blessed be the Cooks from dear family friends. Though I may not have used it as much as I should have throughout college, it moved with me from apartment to apartment, holding a proud place on the shelf in each kitchen. And though I eagerly make use of recipes and videos available on the Internet, reaching for Blessed be the Cooks has always felt like touching home.

Lucie: I did pick up my copy of Blessed be the Cooks from the sideboard on the weekend I came home to get married. My trousseau took the whimsy and the school colors (bright blue and orange) in stride. Now in its new home in my Baton Rouge kitchen, the plastic-ringed volume sits atop Ottolenghi and Modern Sauces and Gastronomique. Names I know well are there among the bylines, and the near-three hundred pages of recipes alternately furrow my brow and make me smile. I’ll say no

to “Duck Mold” (a concoction of gelatin, mayonnaise, broth, and four or five large ducks that, if we’re being honest, likely enjoys gourmet distinction today as “Terrine of Duck with Aioli”), but rice dressing’s mere mention sparks warm memories and a sharp craving. The cooks’ notes sprinkled throughout are folksy, with substitutions attributed to specific individuals (“Peggy Schmitt doubles recipe using 1 large hen …”), and often self-referential (“If it’s great, it’s my recipe,” ends a dish from Lee Boyer. “If it’s a flop, it’s Brenda Poche’s.”). And knowing now of its existence, how can I back down from attempting “Steak in Foil”? After all, its one-sentence instruction assures success with a combination of chuck steak, onion soup mix, and a can of 7-Up, if you “Wrap in foil tightly and bake in 250 F oven for 4 hours.”

I’ve prided myself and, over the years, written often on the global scope of my cooking. In just one week, I can visit India, Lebanon, Puerto Rico, and France. But whether relic or reference, I’ll keep Blessed be the Cooks with me as I go. A nomad needs her ruby slippers. 

Related recipe: Alligator Etouffée