Illustration by Kameko Madere, from "Praline Lady" by Kirstie Myvett (2020), used with permission from the publisher Pelican Publishing, an imprint of Arcadia Publishing.
As a child growing up in New Orleans, one of the memories I most return to is me, sitting in the kitchen, watching my grandmother make pralines. I can still picture her ladling the creamy mixture onto wax paper. I’d wait patiently as each dollop spread and magically cooled into an edible treat. As an adult, their magic never wavered. In New Orleans, the gift of homemade pralines is treasured above aromatic candles, wine, or chocolates. The bearer of pralines is instantly propelled to a place of high esteem and must fulfill an unspoken, and sometimes spoken, expectation of bringing them to every gathering from that day forward. In New Orleans, pralines have always been a big deal.
As the story goes, early in the eighteenth century, French colonizers (namely the Ursuline nuns) first introduced the praline candy to the Crescent City. The delicacy’s namesake, a French duke called César, duc de Choiseul comte du Plessis-Praslin, suffered from a stomach ailment, and his chef created the sugared almond praline to aid in his digestive discomfort.
The version of New Orleans pralines we enjoy today—of the pecan variety—came from the city’s Black women, who took Praslin’s chef’s medicinal sweet and adapted it to Louisiana, making use of the abundant, regional nut, and adding milk or cream to thicken the sugary mixture. It was Black women, some of whom made pralines in the kitchens of those who enslaved them, that created the iconic New Orleans version of the praline candy.
Jordan LaHaye Fontenot
In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Black women were some of the first women entrepreneurs in the Crescent City. This was during a time when women seldom worked outside of the home and had few to no rights. New Orleans had a large population of Black people, both enslaved and free. Both groups worked in various professions including street vendors making a living selling calas (fried powdered rice), vegetables, flowers, blackberries, and freshly-brewed coffee at the various markets that dotted the city. Selling pralines was particularly attractive because of the low-cost start up. The main ingredient, pecans, were free for the taking.
New Orleans’ Praline Ladies persevered during impossibly difficult times and created opportunities for themselves, even without any formal education. What courage it must have taken to start a business, and believe that you could do it, while facing oppression based on your race and gender.
An article in a 1895 edition of Current Literature wrote of the praline woman: “Ask the ebony woman how to make this delicious brown sugar and pecan candy, and she will nod her head mysteriously and give you an indefinite answer, for the secret is her own, and she does not intend to reveal it.” Back then, long before these distinctive treats were sold in candy stores, the vendeuse de pralines could be found perched in a designated locale with her goods in a basket or spread out on a table. Sometimes she roamed the French Quarter in search of customers. She made pink and coconut pralines, as well as the creamy pecan version that is popular today. As is written in an article titled “Cooking in the South” from the 1895 edition of Current Literature: “The plarine [sic] seller is from New Orleans, and hers is a distinctive and picturesque individuality.”
Illustration by Kameko Madere from "Praline Lady" by Kirstie Myvett (2020), used with permission from the publisher, Pelican Publishing, an imprint of Arcadia Publishing.
With the money earned from selling their goods, some of these entrepreneur women were even able to purchase their freedom or that of their loved ones. For these women, pralines were so much more than a sweet treat—they represented freedom and independence.
As their popularity grew though, the commercialization of pralines would later lead to a quiet dissolution of the praline ladies. A 1918 article in The International Confectioner claims: “A New Orleans firm seeing the wonderful possibilities of this old Louisiana mammy confection began to manufacture them according to the best of the old recipes, none of which were ever reduced to writing but had been carried in the heads of these old negroes and just made right.”
The resulting upswing of praline sales in candy shops included the rise of the offensive mammy figure—a caricature of the very women who had originally made, sold, and popularized the product. Some of these shops hired Black women, dressed in gingham and tignons, to play the “mammy” role to increase their sales. Those original praline vendors weren’t viewed or respected as businesswomen, but instead reduced to stereotype and symbol. Soon, they would be a forgotten silhouette on French Quarter streets. In 1918, The International Confectioner mourned the loss: “In the days before the war and for years afterwards the number of praline vendors in New Orleans was large, but as death gradually leveled these faithful old darkies to the earth the number decreased until now there are only a very few of them left and in another decade very likely there will be no more living representatives of Louisiana’s first candy manufacturers.”
Photo courtesy of Kirstie Myvett
The writer (pictured right) with New Orleans' own "Praline Queen" Loretta Harrison (left). A favorite of locals and tourists alike, Harrison's recipe—found at Loretta's Pralines locations in the French Market and Bywater—comes from learning to make pralines from her mother as a child in St. Bernard Parish.
I sometimes stare at their pictures from long ago, of the praline ladies taking a break with their basket at their feet and can’t help but notice the palpable hardship these women endured, evident in their faces along with the pride in their resilient eyes. New Orleans’ Praline Ladies persevered during impossibly difficult times and created opportunities for themselves, even without any formal education. What courage it must have taken to start a business, and believe that you could do it, while facing oppression based on your race and gender. It was their talent and determination that led to the enduring permanence of pralines. Pralines belonged to Black women, who, in turn, shared them with New Orleans.
Today, the legacy of the Praline Lady endures. And thanks to modern technology, the entrepreneur women who follow in her footsteps no longer walk the streets hoping to sell what’s in their baskets, nor need they worry about being caught out in the sudden thunderstorms that drench our flood-prone city. They can do it all from the comfort of their homes via Instagram, or even text message.
Illustrations by Kameko Madere, from "Praline Lady" by Kirstie Myvett (2020), used with permission of the publisher, Pelican Publishing, an imprint of Arcadia Publishing.
Ronica M. Taylor’s Nola Praline Boss sells varieties of the candy in the form of praline brownies, praline cheesecake and praline double layer cake. “Growing up in the Ninth Ward of New Orleans I loved walking to the local praline lady’s house as a kid to buy delicious pralines,” said Taylor. “I would have never imagined I would now be called “praline lady”. I give honor to all of the praline ladies who came before me and inspired me.”
Jordan LaHaye Fontenot
Rosalyn Clark has also built a thriving business selling her sweet wares through her online shop Rosalyn’s Pralines, which provides pralines as party favors for weddings, birthdays, and other celebrations. “Thinking about the Black women who were entrepreneurs in their own right, but labeled as peddlers in a mocked tone of the time, gave me the desire to own what I envision with the sweet tradition of my ancestors’ entrepreneurship,” said Clark. “Own it, put a name on it, and tell the story of its roots.”
Kirstie Myvett is a children’s author whose books feature diverse characters. Her debut picture book Praline Lady can be purchased at arcadiapublishing.com.
