Beignets (recipe)

Can you believe we saw a Café du Monde in Japan? True. About two days into that trip I told everyone (over and over) that everything works as it should in Japan. Or that everything is as it should be. Yeah. That’s what I said.

You going to have donuts? Then they should be the best in the world. Beignets. They got ‘em in Japan.

Proof:

No, I did not see Krispy Kreme or Dunkin’ Donuts there.

So today, for Mother’s Day, I’m missing my mom who is too many miles away. She often cooks beignets and uses several recipes. I’ve blogged about it :::here::: with easy recipes for when you want to make them in a hurry. If you set out a day ahead of time, or maybe just a few hours early, you may want to try the following recipe which I find tastes identical to Café du Monde’s.

New Orleans Doughnuts

1 package active dry yeast
1 1/2 cups warm water
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1 cup undiluted evaporated milk
1/4 cup soft shortening
7 cups all purpose flour
oil for frying
confectioners sugar

In large bowl, sprinkle yeast over water; stir to dissolve. Add sugar, salt, eggs and milk. Blend with rotary beater. Add 4 cups of the flour; beat smooth. add shortening; beat in remaining flour. Cover and chill overnight.

You don’t really have to chill it overnight, but at least let it rise for an hour and then punch down the dough once before rolling out. To store in fridge, I put a chunk of butter or shortening in a gallon Ziplock bag to grease the inside then put my dough in there.

Roll out on floured board to 1/8 inch thickness. Cut into 2 1/2 inch squares. Deep fry at 360 degrees 2 to 3 minutes or until lightly browned on each side. Drain on paper towels. Sprinkle heavily with confectioners sugar. Makes about 5 dozen – Dough keeps well in refrigerator for several days. Cover bowl with Saran Wrap and punch down occasionally.

(recipe credit Marguerite Lyle, pg 44, Talk About Good! (Le Livre de la Cuisine de Lafayette).

I have to use a thermometer or I burn the oil.

They taste and rise better if you can make this dough a day ahead of time. Also, it is easier to take about 1/4 of the dough from the fridge and roll that out instead of working with all of it in one go. Seven cups of flour makes one gigantic hunk of dough.

Serve with café au lait (coffee milk: 1/2 cup coffee mixed with 1/2 cup warm milk). Put on some jazz, dip your beignets in the coffee and wish your mamma was Cajun.

All was well until the meat grinder got involved

The day before Christmas Eve was so perfect I got to take the dogs out and shear off all that hair they’ve been shedding all over the house. The next day it snowed like crazy and although it was about 45 degrees when it began, the temperature dropped rapidly, the snow picked up, and then it piled up everywhere. Perfect. First white Christmas in my lifetime.

So everyone’s all crazy happy, singing Christmas carols that only a day earlier they said they never wanted to hear again, ever. Blane, he’s putting up the Christmas tree. I didn’t even have to ask, this is what Christmas snow does to southerners).

Me? I pull out the new meat grinder I got to make rice dressing. Last year I tried chopping all the meats and it didn’t work out. This year will be different for sure, there is magic snow on the ground and… Dude. A meat grinder, okay? What can be cooler than that in the kitchen?

It’s not one of those old metal crank ones.

I will get one of those next time I’m in Louisiana. I grew up watching my mom use hers, so I know how to operate the thing.

I got what I could get around here, an attachment that fits on my KitchenAid stand mixer.

What’s important to know about this is it’s electric and I don’t ever read instructions to anything. Half the fun of a new thing is figuring it out how to make it work.

So I threw a pack of raw chicken gizzards down the hole and used the plunger thing to tamp it. Out the other side, curly strings of meat emerged. Awesome and quick. This was something that took at least an hour to chop by hand last year. Oh what a magical thing.

Next came the raw chicken liver. I threw those down the hole and tamped it, but nothing happened. So I shoved the plunger down hard and out the other side… An EXPLOSION of pureed chicken liver in my face, hair, on my arms, shirt. I look behind me and oh God, my dog Mireille! She’s white and I see these thick, red lines of raw meat all over her.

Now that was pretty disgusting for me, but for the dog? She ran around in circles licking herself, what a gift she must have thought, if she could think.

When the other dog heard all the ruckus, she came dashing in to clean the floor. That stuff was all over.

You know how difficult it stop a dog from eating raw meat spray? It took two people to straighten out that mess. Thanks a million, Blane, you saved Christmas.

When she was born in her birth suit…

Every time Spanky’s birthday rolls around I think of this Cajun song by Rockin’ Sidney, “Don’t Mess with My Toot Toot.”

The reason I think of that song is because of the lyrics, “When she was born in her birth suit, the doctor slapped her behind, he said ‘You’re gonna be special.’”

See, when Spanky was born and the doctor slapped her feet to get her breathing going, Spanky just looked up at the world as if to say, “Ah, so this is it what’s going on where that noise was coming from.”

She didn’t cry.

That worried me to no end. I’d seen a lot of births working in the hospitals and this was the first one I saw where the baby didn’t cry. They kept telling me she was okay, but I didn’t believe them, I thought the worst. I was right in the middle of a c-section and trying to lift my shoulders and head to see the baby to make sure. Probably drove them all crazy in there.

She was just chill for a little baby. When they brought her to my room, I didn’t think she looked like us. I secretly worried that someone had switched the babies. Then I found out she was the only baby girl in the nursery, there were ten boys and Spanky.

So she’s ours. For sure.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPANKY!

Mardi Gras Should Be a National Holiday

One of the things I miss most about Louisiana besides my family is Mardi Gras. We haven’t been back to a single one of them since we moved away from there because the kids always had school on that day. 

So I have a proposal here. How about we drop Christmas and just have Mardi Gras instead? It’s got the bright colors of gold, purple, and green (that’s an immediate improvement over the red/green motif) and there are parades, costumes, and best of all, revelry.

There is no party like Mardi Gras in Louisiana. Some places around here have tried to start one, but it just doesn’t have the right flavors. It’s like going to see that little Eiffel Tower in Vegas and trying to get the feel of Paris out of that. Can’t be done.

Oh well. Anyway…

Y’all have a happy Mardi Gras.

Don’t Smother Me Bro

The only traditions our family had for New Year’s were to eat some black-eyed peas and cabbage. One is for good luck and the other for money, but I always wanted both so I just knew to eat a bite of each and I was good for a year, no need to memorize what goes with what.

I do think cabbage is the money one since lettuce is slang for dollar bills.

So I went to the grocery for the ingredients. There is no tasso (smoked pork chunks) here, but I did see some smoked hog jowls. I have never eaten that before, but what the hey, I’m a Cajun and it looked ghetto enough to go in my smothered cabbage.

Does that sound scary? Smothered cabbage?

It always did to me, especially when I was little. How about smothered chicken? I could just hear the poor chickie squaking as my mom shoved the lid down on that pot.

Anyway, I’ve been gone from Louisiana so long I second guessed myself on how to smother cabbage. I think my mom used to boil down the cabbage first, then smother it. But I don’t know, it seems like that would boil out the vitamins.

So I checked the trusty internet and found this recipe on cooks.com:

pam”s smothered cabbage

Okay, I know you won’t hit that link so I’ll just show you an excerpt. This is a real recipe.

Saute onion, garlic and bell pepper in butter. Remove all stuffing from pillow and replace with sauteed seasonings. Set aside. Wash heads of cabbage using warm water and a mild shampoo. Dry thoroughly using a blow dryer and diffuser. Place cabbage heads on a soft surface. Cover the cabbage heads with the pillow and press firmly until cabbage is completely smothered.
(You will know they are smothered when they stop screaming). Remove pillow…

Noooooooo.

Anyway. Here’s how I do mine.

2 heads cabbage
some bacon, tasso, or hog jowls
salt and pepper
onion and bell pepper
garlic
can of chicken broth

Cut cabbage into two inch cubess. Put in a gigantic pot of boiling water or steamer and cook until wilted. While that’s cooking, fry bacon and drain off almost all the fat. Throw your onions, peppers, and garlic in there and saute. Add can of chicken broth, then toss in the steamed cabbage a little at a time because it can’t all fit in the pot at once. It cooks down a lot. As it shrinks, add more cabbage. Keep the lid on tight while it cooks on medium low flame. Stir often.

That’s my steamed cabbage being added (upper right) and the smothered cabbage (left). This is how much one head cooks down. The whole deal takes about a couple of hours to cook.

And that’s it for the holiday cooking season. I’m exhausted and damn glad it’s all over. I feel like a new person already.

Why Debone?

People who have not had a turkey this way ask “why debone?”

Besides it being a new twist (I’m a writer, I’m big on twists) on an old tradition, it’s great if you have a small oven and a big turkey. It also cooks faster, doesn’t tend to dry out, and the seasonings are more uniform throughout. When it’s time to carve it up, well, there is no carving. You just slice right through it like butter and everyone gets to eat it while it’s still hot.

Here’s a photo of the deboned turkey I roasted for Thanksgiving.

I didn’t stuff it since I don’t like my stuffing all sogged up with turkey drippings. After deboning, I rubbed it it with Cajun seasoning (Tony’s is good), some minced garlic, and about a stick of melted butter, then let it marinate for a few hours. It only took three hours in a 325 degree oven to cook. Considering this was a 26 pound turkey (bone in weight), I’ve lessened my carbon footprint along the way.

Here’s a good tutorial on Youtube if you want to know how to debone a turkey or a chicken. If you like to cook, you might want to consider trying it this way. Just make sure you have a sharp knife.

After a lovely dinner with my family and some friends, we all watched Wall-E. It’s a CG animated film, but I don’t think it was made for little kids. It’s about a robot that lives alone on Earth 800 years into the future, when humans have destroyed the planet with garbage and God knows what else. The humans have all gone to live in outer space on a luxury cruise liner where everything is so automated they have all gotten obese and can’t even walk because they’ve lost bone density (that’s what happens if you don’t exercise).

Anyway, poor Wall-E is on Earth cleaning up all the trash and trying to get the Earth inhabitable again for the humans to return. It’s an excellent movie and is out on DVD now.

A couple of our guests mentioned that they saw people were already lined up at Best Buy for their after Thanksgiving Day Sale. This was a full 16 hours before the store opened.

So we all took a ride out to the Best Buy near our house and sure enough, people were really lined up. Some of them had tents. Here’s a photo.

I rolled down the window and asked a guy in line what he was buying. He said a plasma tv for $599. A woman farther back in line said she was buying a laptop computer for $399.
Everyone seemed to be in a wonderful mood, I guess it was sort of like a party out there for them, something different to do.

Blane couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “Why don’t they just go work somewhere for a few hours to make up the difference and buy it at regular price?”

Although I’ve never camped out at a store for deal like that, I have punched a time clock. I can see not wanting to do my regular job, rather hanging with other bargain hunters for the night instead. Also, these people might not have the opportunity to put in extra hours at work. I can understand that.

At about three this morning Scrappy had a panic attack. That means one of two things. Garbage man or big storm. Looked out the window and it was like a monsoon rain.

I feel for the people in that line right now. I hope there was someone in that store to let them inside the first set of double doors to wait out the storm.

Accusé

Have you ever left a comment on a blog and just seconds after hitting “submit” regretted it and wanted to take it back because you felt like you might have made a complete fool of yourself?

I have.

Now I’ve been accused of a lot of things in my life, but today was the first day anyone ever accused me of not being a Cajun.

And they did it here on this blog.

Here’s the comment someone left on my “About Me” page:

I’m sorry but i have grown up Cajun AKA coonass and I believe you’ve grown up somewhere in Shreveport LA, Which is not Cajun . Your video of the Cajun viral video of the guy that sounds more like a Mexican is freaking stupid. Please before you call your self Cajun please make sure you really are one.

Thanks
Dustin Bordeaux

While I found that completely hilarious, I got all fired up and responded:

You must be talking about Poo Poo Broussard who is just about the hottest thing in Cajun Country right now.

I did not grow up in Shreveport, I grew up near Lafayette. And a little down Bayou Lafourche. I can cook gumbo, catch and boil crawfish, fish oysters (and eat them raw), let’s see… skin a nutria, you better watch out boy, I can give you a good ass whuppin too.

Now behave on this blog, I know yo mamma didn’t raise you to talk like that.

Later I got to thinking that maybe someone was pulling my leg to get a reaction from me. OhmyGod, have I made a fool of myself? Come to think of it, someone had left a comment very recently over at Clair’s blog, something about her not being a Cajun (she is).

Then I thought, maybe it is the same person going all around the internet targeting Cajuns and questioning their roots to start some kind of flame war?

And that just totally cracked me up. If you want to start a riot, go try that. See if you come out of that with your skin intact.

Turns out it wasn’t the same person. The video he’s referring to is probably the one in the post “My Sorry Ass Cajun Christmas.” My sleuthing skills tell me the commenter landed on my blog by looking up “how to debone a turkey.”

Been dere, done dat.

Parade Finale

I saved two of my favorite photos of the parade for last. I don’t know why there wasn’t a photo of the Yambilee King and Queen, but they were usually on the last float.

I like this one because it tells a little story of how the Cajuns got to Louisiana. Also, the people on the float are dressed in traditional Acadian costumes.

Can you guess which one of these gowns is my favorite in the below photo? Extra candy if you guess the right one.

Can you also guess why the horsemen/women come at the very end?

Here is a shot of some of the floats lined up before the parade.

I hope you enjoyed the show and caught lots of candy. If you missed the other four parts, you can find them at these links:

I Love A Parade

Then Come the Floats

Living Color 

Are You Ready for Some More Parade?

I’d like to thank my mom for allowing me to show these photos. Okay, I didn’t ask, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.

I have used all but two of the photos she had and am wondering how many there would be if my parents had had digital cameras back then…

Are You Ready for Some More Parade?

Okay, let’s go. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you have missed this, this, and that.

Again, since so much of our culture is music related, we have lots of floats with musical themes.

Even the elderly musicians get to ride and perform on a float. The sign the Boy Scout is holding reads “Acadian Music.” You always hear that at any festival you go to in Louisiana. You can’t see the accordian in the above band, but I promise you, it’s there. So is the fiddle. And maybe a washboard.

I like the way you can see the other floats that are coming if you looked down the road in this photo. I also like the pretty gowns these visiting queens are wearing. And the tiaras.

But this one… The ballerina outfit with the cape so fits into my dreamworld.

Tomorrow will be the grand finale as I am running out of photos.

Then Come The Floats

After the clowns with shopping carts selling balloons and cotton candy, the police on motorcycles, the scouts, a marching band come the cars carrying visiting royalty and other important people of the town,  such as the mayor.

They always ride in convertibles, but if it is a sports car, so much the better. 

What makes this part a hit with the crowd is they always throw candy. Free stuff, Yay! I’ve been in parades where I’ve had to sit in a car and trust me, if you do not have a sack of bubble gum or Sweetarts to throw, the only people who will give you any attention are the little old ladies who clap for everyone.

 

Floats. Love ‘em. The one above is a beach scene. The girl in the gown would most likely be a visiting queen from another festival such as the Crawfish Festival. Visiting royalty are spread out over the rest of the floats. 

The above is so badly damaged (a Polaroid), I almost didn’t put it up here, but I like the queen waving with her gloved arm. And that clown riding the unicycle beside the float just rocks. 

And wow, look at those seahorses.

If you missed the beginning of the parade, you have to go see it, that’s where the crazy cars are.

Come back tomorrow, I’ll have some floats in color.

I Love A Parade!

So let’s have one. Cajun style. Vintage.

During the 60s and 70s my parents took a lot of photos of the Yambilee parade in South Louisiana. (Our city was the yam capital of the world.) Festivals are a big deal in these parts, at least they used to be.

For the next week or two I’ll put some up on the blog. Parades are like stories. They have a theme, they build and climax, they have props, costumes, pretty girls and talent.

They usually start out slow, you can hear the sirens and funny cars coming.

That’s probably to make sure the spectators are out of the street so they don’t get run over by the tractors and floats.

And then the Scouts,

Followed by the local high school bands.

Okay, that is all I have for today. I’m actually scanning and restoring them as we go. Make sure you come back tomorrow. There’s some really cool stuff in the pipeline and I throw candy.

Bobbie Faye Is Back

Anybody like free stuff? How about signed copies of books? Yeah? 

My Cajun friend Toni McGee Causey announced today a new contest to roll out her latest book, Bobbie Faye’s (kinda sorta, not exactly) Family Jewels, due out this month.

In her blog post Random Things I Do Not Understand, Toni says:

And starting today, every Sunday until my book release, end of this month, as in May 27th, I’ll be giving away two signed copies of both books – Bobbie Faye’s Very (very, very, very) Bad Day and book 2 – Bobbie Faye’s (kinda, sorta, not exactly) Family Jewels – to one of the commenters  (US/Canada), 18 years old and up. (Hey, there is cursing and murder and mayhem and sex, almost all at the same time. I am not getting in trouble here.) So post anything you do not understand in the comments and next Sunday, I’ll announce a winner… each Sunday for four weeks.
 

I haven’t read this one yet, but the first one was absolutely hilarious and chock full of Cajun mayhem and adventure.

I just love the cover. And Toni, of course. But that’s not why I recommend her novels. And I swear it is not to brag that I have a friend with a couple of published novels. 

No, Toni is a Cajun and she writes about the culture as only an authentic cajun could. Reading her stuff is like signing up for a laugh fest. I promise.

Now go click on that link and leave a comment there.  Let me know if you win. Good luck, everyone.

Stuff Cajun People Like

Okay, to make up for sending you all to that other site, I discovered this:
 
StuffCajunPeopleLike

That guy knows what he’s talking about. He grew up not too far from where I did. Go see, go see.

That site makes me laugh.

That site makes me hungry.

That site makes me talk funny.

That site makes me homesick.

At least I’m going to another crawfish boil tomorrow.

Traiteur

When I was about four, my grandparents down Bayou Lafourche took me to a traiteur to “treat” a wart I had on my finger. It’s not that I’d complained about it, they just busted me trying to bite it off.

The traiteur had a wooden shack that was half on land and half over the bayou. He also knitted fishnets. I don’t know which one he did the most. So, I go in this old place and the man takes a string and does this “flossing” motion around my wart. Said some prayers in French. The string was green and to this day I have an aversion to green minty floss because it reminds me of warts.

The next day I was disappointed. The wart was still there. And the next, and the next, and the next. Then one day when I was no longer thinking about it, the wart was gone.

I never did think the traiteur’s thing worked. If something was to work, it had to be a bit more instant.

Years later, when I was about twelve, I read something about studies about warts, how if you believe they will go away, they will.

I thought I must not have believed it would go away. I didn’t like being tricked by my own mind or my belief system.

No wonder science appealed to me.

More years later the traiteur stuff came into play. As a nurse in Louisiana I had countless patients with strings tied around their ankles, many tiny knots tied into them. I had to dig through puffy and swollen ankles to get to these strings… The thing is, this particular treatment was to ward off swelling.

Those same patients had no trouble with the Lasix injections (for swelling), but try to get the circulation cutting string off them?

Forget that.

You don’t mess with people’s beliefs.

Animal Friends

I kept hearing my dogs bark like crazy after letting them out into the back yard Saturday. Not the regular barking they do, but fierce protests, as if an intruder was back there. I went out to check on it and saw this duck swimming in the pool. She wasn’t quacking or anything, but she seemed to know the dogs weren’t going to jump in after her. 

I got the dogs back into the house, grabbed the camera and didn’t really think she’d still be there by the time I got back out, but she was. 

I wondered if she was injured because she wouldn’t fly away. 

Since I’d never seen a duck in the pool before I rounded up everyone to come see but she was gone by the time they came. Spanky said she had seen one a few days before, a male one swimming in the pool, but she was in a rush to get to school and forgot to tell us.

Sunday, I go out to see what the dogs are barking at again. This time they are barking at a shrub. I pull the foilage back and guess what? That same duck, sitting on three eggs. 

 

Awwwwww.

There’s no way I can fence off this area as it is behind the pool and the dogs would just be able to walk around the coping. So I just keep telling the dogs,”That’s our friend.”

That’s what I tell them when our human friends come over to get them to be nice. They know that word, somehow, and are leaving the duck and her nest alone.

Of course, you know, I keep thinking… of all the places that duck could’ve made a nest and she chooses a Cajun’s yard. That is one lucky duck, I tell ya.