Those of you who are always working to fine-tune your Cajun cooking will be interested to learn that Southern Louisiana chef John Folse has written a lengthy book devoted entirely to the cooking of vegetables Cajun style.
The book is titled Can You Dig It: Louisiana’s Authoritative Collection of Vegetable Cookery. Folse says the book is “an ode to vegetables and Louisiana’s love affair with gardening.”
The book launched at the Barnes and Noble in Baton Rouge on Dec. 2. Those who were there were able to taste some of Folse’s vegetable dishes and buy vegetable seeds.
This isn’t Folse’s first literary exposition of a particular aspect of Cajun cooking. His book After The Hunt presented recipes for preparing wild game. And Hooks, Lies & Alibis covered Cajun approaches to preparing fish and shellfish.
Folse says, “vegetables have been the unsung heroes of the food world.” In his book, he says, “vegetables are elevated to culinary masterpieces worthy of center-of-the-plate prestige.”
I don’t know about “center-of-the-plate,” but I think Folse might be underestimating the importance of vegetables in contemporary Cajun cuisine. Many, many SWLAns aren’t going to feel good about their plate lunches if the sides don’t include greens or okra or sweet potatoes. And who has a crawfish boil without corn and potatoes?
If you’re really serious about cooking vegetables, this book is probably serious enough for you. The volume is nearly a thousand pages long and contains more than 600 recipes. Categories you might or might not expect to find are “swamp floor pantry,” root vegetables, leafy greens (of course), grains and exotics. Recipes range from appetizers to entrées to vegetable desserts and drinks.
Retail price is $59.95 (or a dime per recipe). Folse will have book signings throughout the state this month. Learn more at 225-644-6000 or michaelay@jfolse.com.
Not A Definitive Definition Of Creole
Everyone’s favorite DJ of Cajun and Creole music — Herman Fuselier of KRVS — just wrote a story for Lafayette’s Daily Advertiser on the topic of what a Creole is.
Fuselier starts off by stating that if you “ask 30 people what Creole means … you’ll get 30 different answers.”
He goes on to explain that the Encyclopedia of Southern Culture states that a Creole is “anyone who says he is one.”
One common definition of Creole involves the notion that Creoles are the descendants of the “first generation [of settlers] born in the Americas.” By that standard, Creoles would be of French, Spanish and African descent, and would live not just in Louisiana, but also in Haiti, Africa, Brazil and other international sites.
In Lafayette, says Fuselier, the popular notion of Creole in 2015 is that the term indicates African-Americans who speak French. On the other hand, he points out that John LaFleur, who claims to be Creole and is white, organized the Louisiana Country Creole Families 2015 Bastille Day, to which those of all skin colors were welcome. “Creole” says LaFleur, “reflects [Louisiana’s] … multi-ethnically created … culture.” He adds Creoles are people “for whom neither the color of one’s skin or the use of a tomato [determines] … cultural identity.”
Ray Brassieur, who’s an anthropology professor at UL-Lafayette, seems to be in LaFleur’s camp; quoted by Fuselier, Brassieur says Creole “is an expression of identity.” You find out what it is by examining the “opinions, feelings and identity” of those who say they are Creole. He adds that this approach “is not satisfying because you never come up with the definition [of Creole] you might be looking for.”
To show just how fluid the concept of “Creole” is, Fuselier describes an incident from 1893, when large protest mobs gathered in both Lake Charles and Lafayette as the result of a rumor — which turned out to be correct — that a travelling show called “La Belle Creole Minstrels” featured several “negroes.” It’s clear that the Louisianans who started a near-riot in 1893 felt that “Creole” had nothing to do with “black.” The black performers avoided harm by sneaking out of Lafayette on an out-bound train.
Regardless of these 1893 activists, many in Acadiana — says Fuselier — still speak “kouri vini,” which is a dialect of Creole with strong French and African contributions. He notes that older people in the area, who fear that knowledge of Creole language and food is being overwhelmed by the influence of mainstream culture, formed the group CREOLE in 1987 in an effort to preserve Creole culture. CREOLE stands for Cultural, Resourceful, Educational Opportunities for Linguistic Enrichment.
I guess, then, that the bottom line is that if you think you’re Creole, you are. And if you want to know whether a piece of music is Creole, you ask Herman Fuselier.
Silly
Credit where credit is due, Bobby Jindal worked hard for his political status this year. But the Up Fronter has to give it up to U.S. Sen. David Vitter for creating the single silliest Louisiana political image of the year.
You may have seen it in a commercial. Vitter — dressed entirely in camo — stands in front of a camo ATV, gesturing to Louisiana’s High Lord Commissioner of Politics: Willie Robertson, who is also wearing camo. Robertson looks like he’s used to wearing it; Vitter looks like a politician who just put on some brand new camo. Note that below his camo shirt and jacket, Vitter wears khaki slacks that are probably just like the ones he wore decades ago when he bragged to the “babes” at his frat’s parties about his being a Rhodes Scholar. I guess he just couldn’t quite bring himself to put on those camo pants.
In the commercial, Robertson says, “I know he’s made some mistakes, but who hasn’t?” Hey, hey, hey! Hold up a second! Was this supposed to be a comedy commercial? Vitter needs to give us a heads up if he’s going to try to be funny!
Vitter gestures so broadly and wildly with his hands viewers are convinced that at some point he’s going to yank that bandanna right off Robertson’s head. But Robertson’s backwoods head wear stays safely in place.
I know people at some television network believe that Willie Robertson exists to make money. But I think he exists for the sole purpose of humiliating every Republican who comes within his orbit, which is a rather large orbit.
Even the Washington Post thought the image was hilarious. In his report on the commercial, Post correspondent Chris Cillizza wrote, “Politics is just better in the South.”
Not On The Campaign Trail
It was getting to be a rare thing to receive an email from the Jindal presidential campaign. The campaign machinery that was once so mighty and grand seemed to be collapsing in upon itself.
Yet, on occasion, messages still emerged from the scrap heap.
For example, we learned that in spite of everything, Jindal still had access to the very most exclusive “top hat” establishments in Iowa. For instance, his schedule found him hobnobbing with the jet setters at the Bull Moose Luncheon (at the ominously addressed 666 Grand Avenue), the Rotary Club of Wakonda County and the Pizza Ranch of Poweshiek County.
And then, suddenly, there was a change. Even before the prestigious Pizza Ranch event could take place, it was all over. The J-Man withdrew from the presidential race.
I’m glad I don’t know what’s going on in his mind. I don’t want to know what sort of person thinks he’ll build a great legacy by setting a national record for cutting the budgets of state universities. It’s not as if I think Jindal was the worst politician who ever drew breath. No, my contempt for Jindal is trivial indeed in comparison to the immense loathing I feel for such figures as Cheney and Kissinger. It’s just that Jindal was a disaster for Louisiana. And Louisiana is a state that could ill-afford another disaster.
The Ultimate Indignity
The day after Jindal ended his campaign, the lead headline of the conservative Louisiana news blog The Dead Pelican wasn’t about Jindal; it was about Donald Trump.
Here is the headline, just as the Pelican staff wrote it: “TRUMP ON JINDAL: A ‘NICE GUY’ WHO WAS ‘A LITTLE NASTY.'” I wonder what could have made Trump think Jindal was a nice guy.
Signs And Wonders
Am I delusional? Have I simply imagined that the Louisiana Legislature is faced with a half-billion dollar budget gap … before the fiscal year even ends? There was a time when I would not have believed such a thing. But that was before a politician named Bobby Jindal taught me not to question anything.
Speaking of hard-to-believe, would you have believed even a month ago that the Louisiana governor’s race might be decided by the issue of how to respond to Syrian refugees? Why, only a few days ago, I thought that whole refugee matter was a European problem. Of course, I admit I once thought the same thing about Serbia and Bosnia. (I’m not old enough to have thought it about Germany and Poland.)
The News
“WATCH LIVE AT NOON — Dangers lurking in your make-up bag.”
— KPLC-TV, Tweeted on Nov. 18
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