Aroma Cucina

Bruce on just another Sunday in the Bywater

This is an excerpt from an e-mail from Bruce at NoLAdder that I had to share with you. Doesn't this sound and smell about as good as it get??  Bruce is trying to explain to me about cooking fish on a plank. But, I don't know nuthin' about fish and planks!

I was walking in da'ByWater on one of my visits to town, maybe even Christmas, down Royal around Piety, and there was a pack of gay boys having a soiree in their back yard and really throwing down the food. I mean I could smell it for a couple of blocks before I found them. I say gay boys but you know everyone was there from within a few blocks...the St Ann crowd. They had 3 (THREE) 55gal cookers going, 2 shrimp boilers and a ton of other stuff going on at the table. Really these cats were swingin. I just stood there thinking that this is of course what it means to miss New Orleans...when they opened one of the cookers and started pulling out these plank fish: Salmon, Red Fish, Mahi (each mahi with its own portabella mushroom on top), catfish,  a pile of crawfish mixed with...hmmm...peppers and maybe chow chow (that one was to absolutely die for but I can't even begin to say what was in it. I do remember corn and the peppers which had been grown right there beside the cooker:), so where was I...Judith, they pulled out about ten planks. Rockin. So the wood, guy told me he might get 4 good cookings with one plank but sometimes he'll use a thick piece of particularly good pecan and try to make it last and soak it all up don't'cha know. They said that it really did not take long for the fish to cook on the planks. Now as for the heat? They had one of those side fire bins, you know connected at the bottom of the cooker, for the heat and smoking. Dude was good with the wood fueling too to whip that many fish.
Now in one of the other cookers they had a whole hog with a pomegranate in its mouth and truffles for eyes and total mystery stuffing. The 3rd cooker was all veggies and only smoked...or roasted peppers in the bottom?
So there, just another Sunday afternoon in da'bywata.

NOLA Givback

Last year at the IACP conference, the food writer’s section was given the challenge to raise awareness about New Orleans. We were asked to spread the word, to not let people forget. The powers that be in the US government didn’t step up to the plate, so it’s up to us.  There are groups going there to help rebuild housing, and that’s a very good thing; but just visiting and being there also helps.
In my sidebar, there is a page that is linking to others that are blogging about New Orleans. If you are posting about New Orleans, send me your link and I’ll give you a link to all these other bloggers. It’s a little thing, but little things add up.
I can’t make houses for the people still sleeping under the bridges, I can’t buy a new schoolhouse, but I can make some noise. Join me.
Check out the new blog additions of Tripe Soup and Ruth in Condechi.

Montrel's Bistro in New Orleans

I couldn’t leave New Orleans without have a plate of crawfish. I was a bit leery of trying a touristy looking place in the French Quarter, but my misgivings were mis-founded.

Aunt Frieda was in charge of the boiling cauldron of crawfish, and as I sat facing her, it was like watching a ballet. The crawfish went into a fragrant spicy bath loaded with onions, whole uncut heads of celery and other mysterious ingredients, and then they came out shiny red and delicious.

Montrel’s just took over the space a few months ago and he is trying his hardest to make a go of it. He lures people in by giving them free samples of the crawfish and showing them how to break them apart and suck head and tail. This dude loves his work. Even when people weren’t crowding around to taste the crawfish, he was still eating them. He samples a few with every demo he does; all afternoon long. Impressive.
He called his aunt to come and help, and she’s happy to help, but working over the hot pot is tiring, and your whole body smells of spices at the end of the day. She’s happy to help; she’ll do what she can to pitch in. Frieda lost her husband a short while ago, and she left after Katrina, but now she’s back so she can help the family. The young kid handing out psycho colored ices, he’s family too. Not as enthusiastic as Montrel, but he’s doing his bit.

Everybody has a story in New Orleans, and the art of story telling is alive and well in this town.
P.S. The bread pudding was outstanding as well!

Blogs are jamming with New Orleans news

What happens when gazillions of food obsessed people (oh, excuse me, I mean Culinary Professionals) descend on New Orleans?  They all start writing about it!
The Food Writers section of IACP was given the task of spreading the word about what's going on in New Orleans, and the bloggers are doing their bit to contribute to NOLA Giveback. New Orleans is coming back, bit by bit,  they are pulling themselves together and they need us to visit, plain and simple.

Here's a partial list of what's been going on.
Please, if you have a blog and are writing about NOLA, send me the link. Let's do our bit to spread the good word about New Orleans.

Rancho Gordo: loving beignets, disclaimer: I swear I didn't pay Steve....

Chez Pim more beignet love

Voice of Reason great food round up

Mon Appetit Muffuletta

Serious Eats Wille Mae's fried chicken

The Wednesday Chef Cochon and Crescent Market

Appetites Excellent New Orleans based blogger

No Ladder Tells it like it is

P.S. on the Kahve House

Two things I've just learned: 'kahve' is Turkish for coffee. Which would explain the beautiful, hand made Turkish delight sweets that were displayed.
And the Khave House does music.

Royal Kahve House

Some places have a natural magnetism and power.  The early Popes acknowledged this when they were battling the scourge of paganism. They would tear down the pagan temples and build their own church on the same spot, hoping to capture the power.

The Royal Kahve Coffee House, on the corner of Royal and Touro in New Orleans is one of those magical places.  I see you rolling your eyes: a coffee shop and a pagan temple. Let me explain.
Last Wednesday morning, I was hosting a panel on food blogging at the IACP conference. Normally, I sit alone in front of a typewriter, but now I was going to sit on a dais and moderate a discussion with Steve from Rancho Gordo and Pim from Chez Pim. I was staying at a guesthouse in the Marigny district and let’s just say it was funky and leave it at that. I was nervous that morning, and off balance from battling with a shower faucet that I couldn’t turn off, blown fuses so I had to dress in the dark, only a hazy idea of how to bicycle my way to the conference and I was running late, which meant I was riding fast and missed the left turn on Frenchman St and rode right by the Kahve House.
I smelled espresso.  I was heading to the Hilton where I would be served industrial style, lukewarm American coffee so it was a no brainer to pull over, park my bike and treat myself to a real cappuccino and some damn good peach pie.  Wherever Jeff and I travel, one of the first things we do is scout out the morning coffee place; it’s critical to find a good place or else you are off balance for the whole day. I had found my Mecca. It’s nothing fancy, certainly not slick, but it radiates a very casual warm vibe, and soothes you with color.
Needless to say I went every morning, and I tortured my housemates with my enthusiasm, but I didn’t care.
Saturday was my last morning in New Orleans, and it was a glorious day, so I sat outside sharing the sidewalk with a guy I had seen on a few other mornings. He’s a street musician, and he sat at his table quietly playing on his harmonica.  As I got up to leave, he wanted to switch to my table as I had sat in his usual spot and we struck up a conversation about the street corner. He believes there is a mystical power to this three-way intersection and he told me stories about how all types of people wind up on this very corner.  So, I’m not the only one who feels this way about the Kahve House. There are at least two of us.
If I were to pick a patron goddess, it would be the goddess of serendipity. I owe her an altar.

I want to go back to New Orleans

                                                  Thank y’all for coming. Thank y’all for being here.
I heard this over and over in New Orleans.

I’m so glad I went that now I’m spending my time figuring out how and when I can get back there.
New Orleans is a banquet for the senses; wafts of music and the smells of good food mingle in front of open doorways. The magnolia trees were in blossom, it was crazy to see local Louisiana strawberries are already in season, po’boys are bursting with friend oysters, crawfish are boiling in their spicy bath.  The city may have had its heart ripped out, but its soul is alive and well.
There is raw, vibrant energy blowing in the wind. If you take the time to ask, people will tell you their stories, what it was like after Katrina, what it took to come back and what it’s taking to stay. We met a woman who is a marketing director for a hotel during the day, and driving a cab at night. She told us everyone is doing it, working 2 or 3 jobs to make ends meet. Aunt Frieda works the crab boil pot at her nephew’s new restaurant. She offered to help, and he stuck her over a hot pot all day, but she’s happy to be there and to be helping her family.
I was excited to be going to New Orleans, but I didn’t expect to fall in love. I was nervous and uncertain. I wanted to see as much as I could:  the ruins and the restorations. It’s easy to stay in the Central Business District and think everything is ok, but on a Tuesday night, it’s like they gave a party and no one came. Less than half of the original residents have returned to New Orleans, school age kids are scarce, and the people that are there are paving the way for the new, New Orleans.
The IACP conference was great; I met the most amazing people and learned all sorts of different things. More about that later, but right now, the message is: put New Orleans in your travel plans.
If you like:
Strawberries
Oysters
Crawfish
Shrimp
Pickled green tomatoes
Fired green tomatoes
Pork belly
Crunchy strips of fried pig ear
Cracklins with molasses
Gentle breezes
Flowering trees
Squares, Parks, Statues, Fountains
Architecture
Palm trees
Music
Music
Music
Beignets
Sazerac cocktails
Quality moonshine
If you like any of these things, you’ll find them in abundance in New Orleans.

All roads lead to New Orleans

It’s that time of year again. The International Association of Culinary Professionals is hosting their annual conference and this year it’s in New Orleans. 

The all roads lead to New Orleans thing started last week at the Astor Center, with a benefit for the Southern Food and Beverage Museum. I met Liz Williams, the founder of SoFab, last year at IACP and she is a warm, wonderful person, committed to preserving southern food heritage.  SoFab opens this summer, and it’s another reason for people to start returning to New Orleans. That was the message chef Susan Spicer of Bayona restaurant brought to this event; the city was ready and waiting for tourists to come back. New Orleans still needs our help and support. The beautiful Charlotte Voisey, from Hendricks Gin, (warning, if you are at work and click the link…it’s a wacky and noisy website) was also on hand to mix up some cocktails for us. Now, there is debate on this, but some say the cocktail was invented in New Orleans. Obviously I’ll need to research this when I’m in New Orleans.

I head south tomorrow where I’m looking forward to (in no particular order):
staying in a house full of wacky women who love food,
eating,
drinking,
learning about caviar,
finding out how to be an environmentally responsible chef,
hosting a panel on food blogging
riding my bike around town
meeting new people and catching up with others.
Should be some fun, don’t you think?  Let the good times roll, or whatever it is that they say in New Orleans!