Red Beans and Vice
Read Red Beans and Vice Online
Authors: Lou Jane Temple
Also by Lou Jane Temple
The Cornbread Killer
Bread on Arrival
A Stiff Risotto
Death by Rhubarb
Revenge of the Barbecue Queens
LOU JANE TEMPLE
ST. MARTIN’S MINOTAUR
NEW YORK
RED BEANS AND VICE
. Copyright © 2001 by Lou Jane Temple. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
ISBN 0-312-28013-0
ISBN 978-0-312-28013-0
To Ron Megee,
friend and creative inspiration
W
riting a book about New Orleans is a great undertaking. The city has a history like no other. My thanks to the forefathers who kept such good records. The three museums in the French Quarter run by the Louisiana State Museum system, the Cabildo, the Presbytère, and the Old U.S. Mint, are all great. So is the Historic New Orleans Collection at 533 Royal.
Thanks to Susan Spicer at Bayona and Anne Kearny at Peristyle for inspiring me to have a women’s chef dinner in the book, and to Jo Anne Clevenger at Upperline and Anthony and Gail at Uglesich’s for feeding me so well while I did research, among others of course. The Napoleon House, my favorite bar in America, gave me loads of creative moments. I’m grateful to my daughter, Reagan Walker, and my daughter-in-law, Kelly Walker, for helping me with research.
I appreciate the Ursuline nuns for sending me their book,
A Century of Pioneering: A History of the Ursuline Nuns in New Orleans, 1727-1827,
by Sister Jane Francis Heaney. Many other good reference books about New Orleans helped me, but the best was written in 1895. If you ever see a copy of
New Orleans: The Place and The People,
by Grace King, get it.
Thanks to Margaret Silva for providing a safe haven where I can get some work done.
1 whole head garlic, roasted
3 stalks celery, sliced thin
1 large onion, peeled and diced
1 green pepper, seeded, quartered and diced
1 red or yellow pepper, or both, seeded and diced
1 large can Italian tomatoes, smashed up
1 can artichoke hearts, drained and halved
1 qt. chicken stock
1 qt. shrimp stock
1 small can tomato sauce
12-15 cherry tomatoes, halved
¼ cup oregano leaves, chopped
2 sprigs thyme
1 lb. large shrimp
1 lb. Polish sausage or andouille
½ lb. crabmeat
1 lb. white long grained rice
1 T. Louisiana hot sauce
olive oil
kosher salt
black pepper
white pepper
1 T. Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. cayenne
1 T. green Tabasco sauce
This is a great party dish that has suffered too much exposure of late. Remember to put the shrimp in last so
they don’t turn to rubber. My version gets great flavor from the roasted garlic and the two stocks.
To roast the garlic: In a baking dish, put a tablespoon of good olive oil and a sprinkling of kosher salt. Split the head of garlic and place in the pan face down. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 20 minutes or so, until the garlic is soft and browned on the bottom.
To make the shrimp stock: Peel the shrimp and place the shells in a large saucepan. Add the tops and bottom of the celery bunch, some parsley stems, green onion tops, half an onion with the skin on, and a carrot that has been washed but not peeled. If there is any open white wine in the refrigerator, throw some in. Cover this with 2 qts. of cold water and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, occasionally skimming the top of the stock, until you have reduced the liquid by about half. Strain and cool.
In a large, heavy Dutch oven or something like it, heat 4 T. olive oil. Add the trinity: diced onion, celery, and peppers. When they have softened and the onion is translucent, add the rice and toss. Then add the tomatoes and the tomato sauce. Squeeze out the roasted garlic cloves into the pot. Bring up to a simmer for a couple of minutes, then add the chicken stock and herbs. Simmer 20 minutes. Add the cherry tomatoes, artichoke hearts, and sausage. As the liquid cooks away, add the shrimp stock and the seasonings. Taste every once in a while to test the rice. When the rice is just tender, throw in the shrimp and crabmeat. If you need more liquid, add water, chicken stock, or shrimp stock, whatever you have to keep it moist. Cook just long enough for the shrimp to turn pink, adjust seasonings and serve.
S
o, first they sent women from Paris to be brides of the French settlers, then they sent these nuns to help birth the babies and start schools and stuff.” Heaven Lee was pacing around Sal’s barbershop, waving a hardcover book. Sal was getting ready for his day, setting out his clippers and combs and scissors in a neat, orderly row. Murray Steinblatz, the maitre d’ at Cafe Heaven, had brought Lamar’s doughnuts to the barbershop and Heaven had brought coffee from the restaurant across the street. She would only drink Sal’s coffee under crisis circumstances. The other member of this impromptu coffee klatch was Mona Kirk, the owner of the cat gift store right next to Cafe Heaven. She was the only one who seemed interested in Heaven’s history lesson.
“And that was how long ago?”
“Really early, as far as American history goes. Seventeen twenty-seven. My friend sent me this history of New Orleans and it tells all about them, the sisters,” she said, waving the book again. “Can you imagine a bunch of
nuns coming across the ocean to God knows where.” Heaven was glad to have an audience. “New Orleans was just a swamp with a few houses then.”
Sal turned his head to face the crowd rather than talk through the mirrors that lined the room as he did when he had a customer. “So what’s different from right now? That city is still under sea level and still filled with alligators and other slimy two-legged critters, from what I read in the newspaper.”
The word newspaper pulled Murray away from the one he was reading, the
Kansas City Star.
Murray was really a journalist who had dropped out for a while and was working at Cafe Heaven. He used to write for the
New York Times
and was sending them a column once again entitled “Letters From the Interior.” “That’s right, Sal,” Murray said. “That city is full of corruption. Once I flew down there for a story when the vice squad had to be disbanded because it was just too corrupt. What a comedy. The bar owners on Bourbon Street complained because the cops would come in and help themselves to the bills in the cash register, just scoop out money and walk away.”
It did seem comical but also exciting, and they all chuckled wistfully. Kansas City rarely had scandal anymore, and when it did, it was a more boring, stolid Midwestern variety.
“Remind me, Heaven,” Sal said. “What do these nuns have to do with you going down to ol’ NOLA?”
“Nola?” Mona Kirk asked peevishly. She was the only one who had been attentively listening and she didn’t remember a Nola being a part of the tale. “Who’s Nola?”
Heaven patted Mona’s leg and knocked some glazed doughnut leavings off her slacks. “NOLA is just a nickname for New Orleans, Louisiana. N and O for New
Orleans, and LA is the state abbreviation for Louisiana,” she said in a slightly condescending manner.
“I knew that,” Mona said crossly.
“The nuns?” Sal asked again. Once Sal started tracking on something, he wanted to get it straight.
Heaven looked around the room like an old maid schoolteacher, pursing her lips slightly. “Now everybody, pay attention. The history stuff was just to show that I’m not leaving you all for some unimportant, trivial pursuit in another city. The nuns, the Sisters of the Holy Trinity, are a very important part of New Orleans history, and my national women’s chef group is helping Susan Spicer and Anne Kearney, who are restaurant owners and chefs in New Orleans, we’re helping them put on a benefit for the sisters because the sisters’ thing is education and that happens to be important to the women’s chef group too.” She could see by the way Murray’s eyes were glazing over that she was losing them again. “And a woman I knew when I was a lawyer, a woman who used to live here but married someone and moved to New Orleans, just happens to be on the committee for this benefit. She called personally and asked me to be one of the chefs and so I couldn’t say no to a good cause and an old friend, now could I?”
Murray gamely tried to act interested. “Old friend? I’ve never heard you talk about an old friend in New Orleans.”
“Well,” Heaven said defensively, “she was a law school friend. I always liked her; we just didn’t keep up after she moved out of town. I’ve seen her a couple of times when I’ve been in NOLA.”
Sal turned back to his brushes with a roll of his eyes. “You know, it’s not a crime to just take a vacation. You could say, ‘Bye everybody, I’m off to New Orleans for a
few days.’ No, you have to go and get involved with some big production number. That New Orleans society is different, Heaven. I had an uncle who lived down there. Lots of Italians came through there after the famine of—”
“What are you saying, Sal, that you think Heaven can’t breeze through a little Southern society event?” Mona broke in. “Heaven single handedly kept the Eighteenth and Vine dedication from going to hell in a handbasket, with a little help from me, of course. New Orleans will be a piece of cake for Heaven.”
“That reminds me, what are you cooking?” Murray asked, trying to change the subject. Sal and Mona could bicker about almost anything.
“We don’t have that figured out yet. That’s one of the reasons I’m going down there tomorrow, so we can assign the courses and decide where everyone will do prep and take a look at the convent. But Pauline and I have been working on some kind of an outrageous pie with praline bits and strawberries and other decadent things. We’re calling it Nola Pie.”