Confession: I am somewhat of a groupie of female chefs.
I don’t mean I’m a follower of gimmicky Iron-Chef type female chefs prone to speed-chopping, foams, and gastriques. I mean female chefs who honor their local ingredients and local cuisines with simple, solid good cooking. Chefs who’ve carved out niches for themselves in a world long-dominated by their male counterparts.
Here’s the evidence:
Once I talked my husband into an eight-hour road trip to Atlanta to eat at Anne Quatrano’s Bacchanalia. The meal was well worth the drive, but when I saw the chef hurrying back into her kitchen, I felt like I had caught a glimpse of royalty.
When Odessa Piper, a chef in the Alice Waters tradition and then chef-owner of L’Etoile in Madison, Wisconsin, visited my table, I was so star-struck, I could barely ask for her autograph on my menu.
I recently attended a graduation ceremony at Loyola University where Leah Chase, chef and owner of Dooky Chase’s in New Orleans, received an honorary Ph.D. To me, it seemed perfectly appropriate that she was sharing the stage with Gov. Bobby Jindal and jazz legend Herbie Hancock.
And at least once a year, we make a pilgrimage to my personal Lourdes of restaurants, Susan Spicer’s Bayona on Dauphine Street in the French Quarter.
The first meal we savored there was shortly after its opening in 1990, and every meal we’ve eaten there since then has been memorable. I can still perfectly bring to my mind and taste buds a dessert that consisted of a trio of confections each flavored with lemon and a different herb.
So when Spicer’s cookbook Crescent City Cooking came out in 2007, I couldn’t wait to revisit some of those meals. There in its pages are some of the entrées we’ve enjoyed at Bayona, such as her Grilled Shrimp with Black Bean Cakes and Coriander Sauce and her Sautéed Sweetbreads with Sherry-Mustard Butter.
But there are also some dishes new to me, simple recipes that showcase the ingredients, not the chef or her dazzling technique. As crazy as it sounds, Spicer’s Slow-Scrambled Eggs are a revelation of simplicity, taste and texture.
Often when we dine at Bayona, Susan Spicer passes through the dining room greeting regular customers. And although we certainly don’t qualify as regulars, sometimes I catch her eye, and we smile and nod at each other. Then I usually make a joke to my husband about having said hello to my “old friend” Susan, but secretly I always wish it were the truth.
Happily, my friendship with Laurie Lynn Drummond is not a figment of my imagination. It is, however, rooted in many ways in food and books.
In the fall of 1989, I was newly transplanted to Baton Rouge, newly employed as a part-time English instructor at LSU, mother to a six-month-old daughter, and feverishly trying to complete my dissertation.
Most Saturdays and Sundays, my husband took care of our daughter while I worked on my dissertation which meant, in those pre-Starbucks, pre-laptop days, writing in longhand at a table at Highland Coffees, the new and first true coffee shop in Baton Rouge.
After spending several weekends at Highland Coffees, I began to recognize the regulars, in particular one woman whom I had also seen in the English Department. Emboldened by a couple of cappuccinos, I introduced myself, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Laurie, an ex-cop who was then completing her MFA in fiction at LSU, and I became fast friends. We soon found we had more in common than writing and grading student essays. We loved books, art, movies, and, of course, cooking.
How could I not be friends with a person who, shortly after we met, brought me an elegant home-made lunch of bread, salad, and the most wonderful spaghetti with vodka-tomato sauce which I reheated in the coffee shop microwave and gulped down.
On weekends, we’d work dutifully at our respective tables for hours, and then, as if on cue, join each other for a brief respite to compare our progress, or lack thereof, on our projects. Sometimes during the school week, we’d play hooky from our office hours to catch a movie or go clothes shopping at the old downtown Maison Blanche store.
And, of course, we shared many meals, some cooked by me, some cooked by Laurie.
When Laurie’s collection of short stories, Anything You Say Can and Will Be Used Against You, came out to glowing reviews in 2004, I couldn’t wait to peer into the life she had lived as a Baton Rouge police officer, and I couldn’t wait to savor in full the writing talent I had tasted when she had allowed me to read early story drafts.
And, oh, what a talent! Each of her five female police officer protagonists are deftly drawn with authenticity and complexity, and the plots of the ten stories are gritty and poignant at the same time.
When Laurie moved to Austin, Texas, and then to Eugene, Oregon, I missed her deeply. And, not being the best correspondent or phone conversationalist, I worried that our season of friendship was over. However, I’ve happily learned over the years that with true friends, time and distance really don’t take much of a toll. Not only can you can pick up where you left off, but you also bring more “to the table” in terms of ideas and experiences to share.
So when my longtime and long-gone friend Laurie sat down at my table for dinner during her visit to Baton Rouge a few weeks ago, it seemed only natural that I would ask my “friend” Susan to cook for us--at least metaphorically.
Following is the menu, “we” served Laurie. (Hey, a girl can dream!)
I like the sort of French idea of serving “nibbles” before dinner, instead of full-fledged, and often heavy, appetizers. I served the pecans and cheese wafers with some marinated olives.
Spicer Pecans
Source: It may be sacrilegious, but this recipe is an adaptation of Spicer’s Cajun-spiced Pecans. I increased the amount of pecan halves (less buttery) and added the chili powder for a bit more “kick.”
These are great on salads and make a nice Christmas gift.
Yield: 1½ cups (can be doubled)
Ingredients:
1 T. butter
1½ c. pecan halves
2 T. sugar
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
¼ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. cayenne pepper
½ tsp. chili powder
Process:
Preheat oven to 325°. Melt the butter in a large frying pan. Stir in the nuts to coat. Stir in the other ingredients. Spread the nuts on a large baking sheet lightly sprayed with vegetable oil spray. Bake 7-10 minutes. Cool nuts on paper towels. Store the nuts in an airtight container. (During high humidity, I store them in the refrigerator.)
Cheese Wafers
Source: There are lots of versions of this sort of recipe out there, including a parmesan and thyme version in Ina Garten’s new cookbook Back to Basics. This one I got from my mother-in-law Ruth.
Yield: approximately 2 dozen wafers (can be doubled)
Ingredients:
1 c. butter or margarine, softened
8-oz. block sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded
2 c. flour
¼ tsp. salt
½ to 1 tsp. cayenne pepper (I use the full amount)
1 c. finely chopped walnuts or pecans
Process:
Beat butter and shredded Cheddar cheese at medium speed with an electric mixer until blended; add remaining ingredients, beating until blended. Cover dough and chill 2 hours.
Shape dough into 8-inch logs approximately 1½-inch in diameter. (I had 3 logs.) Wrap in plastic wrap. Chill at least 2 hours.
Cut each log into ½-inch-thick slices and place 2 inches apart on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake at 375° for 11-13 minutes. Remove to wire racks to cool.
(You may freeze the logs up to 1 week. Let dough stand 15 minutes before slicing into wafers; bake wafers as directed.)
Balsamic Vinaigrette
This is the salad dressing used on the Bayona House Salad. For Laurie, I served a simple salad of baby greens, chopped scallions, halved grape tomatoes, and a sprinkling of salted sunflower kernels.
Source: Susan Spicer’s Crescent City Cooking
Yield: 1 cup
Ingredients:
2 T. balsamic vinegar
2T. apple cider vinegar
1 T. plus 1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 T. honey
¾ c. olive oil
1 T. fresh lemon juice
salt and pepper
Process:
Whisk together the vinegars, mustard, and honey in a small bowl, then gradually whisk in the olive oil. Taste the dressing and finish by adding the lemon juice, salt, and pepper to taste.
Shrimp or Crayfish Clemenceau
I first tried Shrimp Clemenceau at Feelings Café in New Orleans, and I loved it! I’m assuming Spicer uses “crayfish” instead of “crawfish,” the more common term in Louisiana, to communicate to a broader, i.e. “Yankee,” audience.
Source: Susan Spicer’s Crescent City Cooking
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients:
1 cup diced potatoes (about ½-inch dice)
salt
3 T. olive oil
5 T. butter
½ pound button mushrooms, quartered
1 pound shrimp (16-20 count), peeled and deveined, or 1 pound crayfish tails
2 c. peas (frozen or fresh)
pepper
hot sauce
1 med. shallot, finely diced
¼ c. white whine
3 T. fresh lemon juice
2 garlic cloves, minced
3 scallions, finely chopped
Process:
Preheat the oven to 325° F.
Place the potatoes in a small saucepan and cover with cold water; add a pinch of salt. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until the potatoes are just cooked through (they will become opaque and should be tender, but not overly soft, when pierced with a paring knife.) Drain them, rinse with cold water, and cool. Pat the dice dry with paper towels. (The potatoes can be blanched in advance and held in water.)
Heat 1 T. olive oil in a medium skillet until hot but not smoking, and add the potatoes and 2 T. butter. Cook until evenly browned and crispy, and transfer to a large bowl. Keep them warm in the oven.
Return the skillet to the heat (no need to clean), pour in the remaining 2 T. olive oil. When the oil is hot, add the mushrooms and cook, stirring until they are lightly browned and crispy. Add the mushrooms to the potatoes. Add the shrimp or crayfish tails to the skillet and cook a few more minutes. Add the peas, season lightly with salt, pepper, and hot sauce, and transfer the mixture to the bowl of potatoes. Toss mixture to combine and return to oven to keep warm.
Deglaze the pan with the shallots, wine, and lemon juice and scrape up the bits. Bring to a boil and reduce to about 4 T. of liquid. Stir in the garlic, then whisk in the remaining 3 T. butter, a little a t a time, to make a creamy sauce. Season with salt, pepper, and hot sauce.
Pour the sauce over the shrimp, sprinkle with stallions and serve immediately.
Chocolate Mousse
For this recipe, see "The Thais that Bind in Rhinelander." However, I didn’t have any brandy so I substituted rum and also sprinkled some crushed candy canes on the whipped cream for a seasonal touch.
I don’t mean I’m a follower of gimmicky Iron-Chef type female chefs prone to speed-chopping, foams, and gastriques. I mean female chefs who honor their local ingredients and local cuisines with simple, solid good cooking. Chefs who’ve carved out niches for themselves in a world long-dominated by their male counterparts.
Here’s the evidence:
Once I talked my husband into an eight-hour road trip to Atlanta to eat at Anne Quatrano’s Bacchanalia. The meal was well worth the drive, but when I saw the chef hurrying back into her kitchen, I felt like I had caught a glimpse of royalty.
When Odessa Piper, a chef in the Alice Waters tradition and then chef-owner of L’Etoile in Madison, Wisconsin, visited my table, I was so star-struck, I could barely ask for her autograph on my menu.
I recently attended a graduation ceremony at Loyola University where Leah Chase, chef and owner of Dooky Chase’s in New Orleans, received an honorary Ph.D. To me, it seemed perfectly appropriate that she was sharing the stage with Gov. Bobby Jindal and jazz legend Herbie Hancock.
And at least once a year, we make a pilgrimage to my personal Lourdes of restaurants, Susan Spicer’s Bayona on Dauphine Street in the French Quarter.
The first meal we savored there was shortly after its opening in 1990, and every meal we’ve eaten there since then has been memorable. I can still perfectly bring to my mind and taste buds a dessert that consisted of a trio of confections each flavored with lemon and a different herb.
So when Spicer’s cookbook Crescent City Cooking came out in 2007, I couldn’t wait to revisit some of those meals. There in its pages are some of the entrées we’ve enjoyed at Bayona, such as her Grilled Shrimp with Black Bean Cakes and Coriander Sauce and her Sautéed Sweetbreads with Sherry-Mustard Butter.
But there are also some dishes new to me, simple recipes that showcase the ingredients, not the chef or her dazzling technique. As crazy as it sounds, Spicer’s Slow-Scrambled Eggs are a revelation of simplicity, taste and texture.
Often when we dine at Bayona, Susan Spicer passes through the dining room greeting regular customers. And although we certainly don’t qualify as regulars, sometimes I catch her eye, and we smile and nod at each other. Then I usually make a joke to my husband about having said hello to my “old friend” Susan, but secretly I always wish it were the truth.
Happily, my friendship with Laurie Lynn Drummond is not a figment of my imagination. It is, however, rooted in many ways in food and books.
In the fall of 1989, I was newly transplanted to Baton Rouge, newly employed as a part-time English instructor at LSU, mother to a six-month-old daughter, and feverishly trying to complete my dissertation.
Most Saturdays and Sundays, my husband took care of our daughter while I worked on my dissertation which meant, in those pre-Starbucks, pre-laptop days, writing in longhand at a table at Highland Coffees, the new and first true coffee shop in Baton Rouge.
After spending several weekends at Highland Coffees, I began to recognize the regulars, in particular one woman whom I had also seen in the English Department. Emboldened by a couple of cappuccinos, I introduced myself, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Laurie, an ex-cop who was then completing her MFA in fiction at LSU, and I became fast friends. We soon found we had more in common than writing and grading student essays. We loved books, art, movies, and, of course, cooking.
How could I not be friends with a person who, shortly after we met, brought me an elegant home-made lunch of bread, salad, and the most wonderful spaghetti with vodka-tomato sauce which I reheated in the coffee shop microwave and gulped down.
On weekends, we’d work dutifully at our respective tables for hours, and then, as if on cue, join each other for a brief respite to compare our progress, or lack thereof, on our projects. Sometimes during the school week, we’d play hooky from our office hours to catch a movie or go clothes shopping at the old downtown Maison Blanche store.
And, of course, we shared many meals, some cooked by me, some cooked by Laurie.
When Laurie’s collection of short stories, Anything You Say Can and Will Be Used Against You, came out to glowing reviews in 2004, I couldn’t wait to peer into the life she had lived as a Baton Rouge police officer, and I couldn’t wait to savor in full the writing talent I had tasted when she had allowed me to read early story drafts.
And, oh, what a talent! Each of her five female police officer protagonists are deftly drawn with authenticity and complexity, and the plots of the ten stories are gritty and poignant at the same time.
When Laurie moved to Austin, Texas, and then to Eugene, Oregon, I missed her deeply. And, not being the best correspondent or phone conversationalist, I worried that our season of friendship was over. However, I’ve happily learned over the years that with true friends, time and distance really don’t take much of a toll. Not only can you can pick up where you left off, but you also bring more “to the table” in terms of ideas and experiences to share.
So when my longtime and long-gone friend Laurie sat down at my table for dinner during her visit to Baton Rouge a few weeks ago, it seemed only natural that I would ask my “friend” Susan to cook for us--at least metaphorically.
Following is the menu, “we” served Laurie. (Hey, a girl can dream!)
I like the sort of French idea of serving “nibbles” before dinner, instead of full-fledged, and often heavy, appetizers. I served the pecans and cheese wafers with some marinated olives.
Spicer Pecans
Source: It may be sacrilegious, but this recipe is an adaptation of Spicer’s Cajun-spiced Pecans. I increased the amount of pecan halves (less buttery) and added the chili powder for a bit more “kick.”
These are great on salads and make a nice Christmas gift.
Yield: 1½ cups (can be doubled)
Ingredients:
1 T. butter
1½ c. pecan halves
2 T. sugar
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
¼ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. cayenne pepper
½ tsp. chili powder
Process:
Preheat oven to 325°. Melt the butter in a large frying pan. Stir in the nuts to coat. Stir in the other ingredients. Spread the nuts on a large baking sheet lightly sprayed with vegetable oil spray. Bake 7-10 minutes. Cool nuts on paper towels. Store the nuts in an airtight container. (During high humidity, I store them in the refrigerator.)
Cheese Wafers
Source: There are lots of versions of this sort of recipe out there, including a parmesan and thyme version in Ina Garten’s new cookbook Back to Basics. This one I got from my mother-in-law Ruth.
Yield: approximately 2 dozen wafers (can be doubled)
Ingredients:
1 c. butter or margarine, softened
8-oz. block sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded
2 c. flour
¼ tsp. salt
½ to 1 tsp. cayenne pepper (I use the full amount)
1 c. finely chopped walnuts or pecans
Process:
Beat butter and shredded Cheddar cheese at medium speed with an electric mixer until blended; add remaining ingredients, beating until blended. Cover dough and chill 2 hours.
Shape dough into 8-inch logs approximately 1½-inch in diameter. (I had 3 logs.) Wrap in plastic wrap. Chill at least 2 hours.
Cut each log into ½-inch-thick slices and place 2 inches apart on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake at 375° for 11-13 minutes. Remove to wire racks to cool.
(You may freeze the logs up to 1 week. Let dough stand 15 minutes before slicing into wafers; bake wafers as directed.)
Balsamic Vinaigrette
This is the salad dressing used on the Bayona House Salad. For Laurie, I served a simple salad of baby greens, chopped scallions, halved grape tomatoes, and a sprinkling of salted sunflower kernels.
Source: Susan Spicer’s Crescent City Cooking
Yield: 1 cup
Ingredients:
2 T. balsamic vinegar
2T. apple cider vinegar
1 T. plus 1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 T. honey
¾ c. olive oil
1 T. fresh lemon juice
salt and pepper
Process:
Whisk together the vinegars, mustard, and honey in a small bowl, then gradually whisk in the olive oil. Taste the dressing and finish by adding the lemon juice, salt, and pepper to taste.
Shrimp or Crayfish Clemenceau
I first tried Shrimp Clemenceau at Feelings Café in New Orleans, and I loved it! I’m assuming Spicer uses “crayfish” instead of “crawfish,” the more common term in Louisiana, to communicate to a broader, i.e. “Yankee,” audience.
Source: Susan Spicer’s Crescent City Cooking
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients:
1 cup diced potatoes (about ½-inch dice)
salt
3 T. olive oil
5 T. butter
½ pound button mushrooms, quartered
1 pound shrimp (16-20 count), peeled and deveined, or 1 pound crayfish tails
2 c. peas (frozen or fresh)
pepper
hot sauce
1 med. shallot, finely diced
¼ c. white whine
3 T. fresh lemon juice
2 garlic cloves, minced
3 scallions, finely chopped
Process:
Preheat the oven to 325° F.
Place the potatoes in a small saucepan and cover with cold water; add a pinch of salt. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until the potatoes are just cooked through (they will become opaque and should be tender, but not overly soft, when pierced with a paring knife.) Drain them, rinse with cold water, and cool. Pat the dice dry with paper towels. (The potatoes can be blanched in advance and held in water.)
Heat 1 T. olive oil in a medium skillet until hot but not smoking, and add the potatoes and 2 T. butter. Cook until evenly browned and crispy, and transfer to a large bowl. Keep them warm in the oven.
Return the skillet to the heat (no need to clean), pour in the remaining 2 T. olive oil. When the oil is hot, add the mushrooms and cook, stirring until they are lightly browned and crispy. Add the mushrooms to the potatoes. Add the shrimp or crayfish tails to the skillet and cook a few more minutes. Add the peas, season lightly with salt, pepper, and hot sauce, and transfer the mixture to the bowl of potatoes. Toss mixture to combine and return to oven to keep warm.
Deglaze the pan with the shallots, wine, and lemon juice and scrape up the bits. Bring to a boil and reduce to about 4 T. of liquid. Stir in the garlic, then whisk in the remaining 3 T. butter, a little a t a time, to make a creamy sauce. Season with salt, pepper, and hot sauce.
Pour the sauce over the shrimp, sprinkle with stallions and serve immediately.
Chocolate Mousse
For this recipe, see "The Thais that Bind in Rhinelander." However, I didn’t have any brandy so I substituted rum and also sprinkled some crushed candy canes on the whipped cream for a seasonal touch.