Food never sounded so good.
Beignets and Café au Lait
Even the language of food and drink in New Orleans is tantalizingly exotic: Poboys-dressed or un? We translate delectable terms, from Alligator pear to Zapp’s.
Alligator Pear Avocado, named for the skin’s green, scaly texture.
Andouille (ahn-DOO-ee) Spicy Cajun sausage. Don’t ask what’s in it. Just savor the burn.
Angelo Brocato ices and creams Some say pistachio; others say lemon ice. Two words: rum custard. Oh, goodness.
Bananas Foster Brennan’s first whipped up this flaming ambrosia of bananas and rum, spooned over vanilla ice cream.
Barq’s A great local root beer, served in glass bottles or frosty mugs. Washes down the seafood just fine.
Beignet (BEN-yay) Oh, yay! Creole pastries carrés (square, like the Vieux Carré), fried to crusty perfection and generously sprinkled with powdered sugar. Got café au lait? Tip: wear light colors to camouflage the powdered sugar.
Beer Here, if you whistle “Dixie,” you get beer. And if you want extra local flavor, try Dixie’s Blackened Voodoo potion. Other home breweries include both Zea and Abita Springs, whose Purple Haze and Turbodog labels encourage dancing with abandon. With partners, too.
Blackened Redfish Highly seasoned redfish filets sizzled in a hot skillet. When Chef Paul Prudhomme made the Cajun dish a national craze, it put a strain on redfish supplies. Inspired chefs began blackening poultry and veal.
Blue Runner Gumbo to go. Canned okra and shrimp gumbo or gumbo base, beans, and other canned produce to take home. No muss.
Boudin (boo-DEHN) Spicy pork sausage stuffed with onions and herbs.
Cajun vs. Creole Cajun food is the earthy, robust creation of fishermen and farmers in the bayou country of southwest Louisiana. Creole food is the cosmopolitan cuisine of New Orleans, a mix of Europe, Africa, and the Caribbean.
Chicory (CHICK-er-ree) Endive roots are roasted and ground into Louisiana java labels like Community, French Market, Union, and Luzianne. It’s coffee with a little bite that’ll take the bark out of your morning. Indigenous coffee houses like C.C.’s, P.J.’s and Café du Monde serve up N.O. local coffees all day and into the night.
Crab boil Or shrimp boil, or crawfish boil. The standard brands are Zatarain’s and Rex. Why bother to boil if you don’t do it right? Seafood gets a flavor jolt in these aromatic blends of spices and seasonings.
Crawfish (a.k.a. mudbugs or crawdads) Cooked with lots of crab boil, these succulent little second cousins to shrimp hold the flavor in the heads and the meat in the tails. So you suck the heads and peel the tails. Crawfish pies and Crawfish Monica, a creamy pasta dish, draw raves at Jazz Fest.
Creole cream cheese Once close to extinction, now making a comeback (Robert’s Markets and Dorignac’s Supermarket still carry it), it’s close to France’s light crème fraîche. Add a little sugar or fruit, and breakfast will never be the same.
Creole Mustard More pungent than American mustard; the mustard seeds are ground coarsely into piquant nuggets rather than bland dust.
Creole Tomatoes Exceptionally flavorful, pink, and juicy tomatoes, these vine-ripened gems are available only from late spring through summer. Originally imported from the West Indies.
Crystal has produced condiments like a piquant hot sauce and sinfully rich jams since 1923. Try strawberry and you’ll know why jams and preserves were invented.
Dressed A po-boy with lettuce, tomato, pickles, and mayo (known locally as “MY-nez,” usually Blue Plate).
Etouffée (ay-too-FAY) It literally means “suffocated,” but in N.O. we just smother great shrimp or crawfish with spicy tomato sauce and slather it over rice. Very nice.
Gumbo New Orleans’ and South Louisiana’s signature Creole dish. Not an imitation of French bouillabaisse. “Gumbo” began with okra, or nkombo in Bantu, a vegetable of African origin. Native American filé (ground sassafras leaves) is the essential spice. Caribbeanborn chefs, gens de couleur, first whipped up this piquant potage-more soup than stew. In Southern Louisiana, it’s made with a dark roux (gravy base made by browning flour in fat), shellfish, and sausage, served over rice. In NorthLouisiana, the roux is lighter and the meat is venison, duck, or squirrel. But only if you’re a good enough shot.
Jambalaya (jahm-ba-LIE-ya) New Orleans’ answer to Spain’s paella, this Cajun rice dish makes a clean sweep of the kitchen, full of sausage, seafood, and, of course, spices.
King Cake These racetrack-shaped cakes are served only between Twelfth Night (January 6, the Feast of the Three Kings)
Mirliton (MER -lih-tawn or MIL-lih-ton) A tropical, pear-shaped squash. Louisianans love to stuff them with seafood, meats, and cheese. Elsewhere, they’re called vegetable pears, chayotes, chochos, or christophines.
Muffuletta It’s not a sandwich; it’s a meal packed into a pizza-sized Italian bun. The calories don’t count when you’re having fun: salami, ham, and provolone lavished with olive relish. Go to the source: Central Grocery on Decatur Street, an Italian import store where the sandwich was invented about a century ago to satisfy hungry Sicilian stevedores on the nearby docks.
Oysters Eating them raw on the half-shell still separates the natives from the tourists, the sushi craze notwithstanding. Connoisseurs like to oversee the process, watching as the shells are pried open. Most natives dip them in a sauce made with ketchup, Tabasco, horseradish to taste and a squeeze of fresh lemon.
Fresh Raw Oysters
Oysters Rockefeller Oysters on the halfshell, dabbed with spinach and laced with Absinthe-flavored spirits like Herbsaint. A late 19th-century inspiration of Antoine’s Jules Alciatoire, who created them for visiting magnate John D. Rockefeller.
Po-boy New Orleans’ own sandwich, more hero than sub, and more epic than anything ever slapped on Bunny bread. Crusty French bread flanks fried oysters, shrimp or softshell crabs. Also, roast beef, turkey, ham and cheese. Dressed? We’re talking lettuce, tomato, and mayo. Po-boys date back to a long-running 1929 streetcar strike, when the owners of the Martin Brothers Restaurant, former streetcar workers, offered free sandwiches to their union brothers, reduced by the strike to “poor boys.” Martin Brothers, alas, is long gone, but renowned local purveyors include Liuzza’s, Mother’s, Uglesich’s, Parasol’s and Domilise’s.
Pompano En Papillote (POM-puh-no on pahpee-YOTE) Bagged fish. In this classic French dish, filets swimming in a rich sauce are steamed and served in a paper bag. In Life on the Mississippi, Mark Twain called pompano “delicious as the less criminal forms of sin.”
Praline (PRAW-leen or sometimes PLAW-reen but never PRAY-leen) The great versions of this classic Creole candy are made with butter, brown sugar, and pecans, among other things, and absolutely, positively melt in the mouth. At Aunt Sally’s Decatur Street shop, you can watch the praline production through the window. Take the kids if you dare.
Red beans and rice Comfort food for natives, this traditional Monday fare is served over rice, accompanied by French bread. Why Monday? Washday. The fires were already blazing for wash kettles, and the red kidney beans simmered all day in ham hocks and sausage, so they didn’t have to be closely watched.
Roman candy For generations, the clip-clop of the Roman candy man’s white mule-drawn cart has sent kids’ feet racing across sand lots to their piggy banks for spare change. The long, chewy delights come in vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate. The wagon frequents Audubon Zoo, St. Charles Avenue, and the French Quarter. Sometimes it’s parked outside local schools when classes end.
Roux The base of gumbo, it’s a gravy made by browning flour in fat.
Sauce Piquante (pee-CAHNT) As with étouffee, this stew-like dish is based on a tomato sauce, but instead of seafood, the meat is turtle, rabbit, or even alligator.
Seasoning The secret to Cajun and Creole cooking is in the spices. Both Tony Chachere (SAH-chur-ay) Creole Seasoning and Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Magic Seasoning lines turn beef, crabs, vegetables, salads, French fries, popcorn, and practically everything but dessert into culinary events. Grill, marinate, sauté, whatever. They cover a multitude of sinfully delicious dishes.
Shrimp Creole Shrimp in tomato sauce, served over rice.
Snowballs These are not sno-cones. The ice is so finely ground and flavors so sweetly seductive, you’ll be lining up at the door before the stand opens. Be daring: mix iced coffee and chocolate or Wild cherry with bubble gum. The icy flavors are pure heaven on summer afternoons and evenings. Try the root beer at Hansen’s Sno-bliz (motto: “Air-condition your tummy!”) and café au lait at Plum Street Snowballs. You’ll find snowball stands tucked into every neighborhood around town, except, unfortunately for tourists who never venture beyond it, the French Quarter.
Steen’s cane syrups and molasses sweeten up tables across the South.
Tabasco Selling the hot sauce in 100 countries since the 1860s wasn’t enough. Now there’s pepper jelly and spicy mayo, pickled okra and dozens of Tabasco knickknacks. It’s so popular, even the aliens in Roswell doused all their food with Tabasco. And we mean everything. We always knew it was out of this world.
Tasso Peppered beef or pork smoked within an inch of life. Chopped into bite-sized bits, it braces up gumbo, red beans, and anything else that simmers slowly.
Zapp’s These potato chips transform a root vegetable into gourmet snack food. Cajun Crawtator, Jalapeño, and Sweet Potato are standouts among a dozen or so flavors. Every couple of months, Zapp’s experiments with new flavors in Limited Editions. Extra bonus: all the flavors are Kosher. Who knew?
A Pat O’Brian’s bartender serves up a Hurricane
According to legend, the cocktail was invented in New Orleans in the mid-19th century. French Quarter pharmacist Antoine Amedée Peychaud served his homemade bitters, mixed with Sazeracde-Forge et Fils cognac and absinthe, in egg cups, the French word for which was coquetiers-which the Anglos mangled into “cocktail.” See Sazerac below.
Hurricane Pat O’Brien’s started as a Prohibition speakeasy where the password was “Storm’s a-brewing.” O’Brien’s is still in the eye of the hurricane. The drink recipe was formulated during WWII when whiskey was scarce, but rum kept the U.S. Navy and other forces afloat. In a cocktail shaker, mix two ounces of amber or 15-proof rum, a splash of pineapple juice, one-quarter cup passion fruit juice or one tablespoon passion fruit syrup, a teaspoon of simple syrup or sugar, a dash of grenadine syrup, the juice of one-half lime. Pour over crushed ice. Float Meyers rum on top. Serve in a glass shaped like a hurricane lantern, and garnish with cherries and an orange slice.
New Orleans Mint Julep Marinate mint leaves in powdered sugar. Rub the inside rim of an icy glass with mint. Layer shaved ice with the mint leaves to rim of glass and pour a jigger or two of bourbon over the ice. Top with a bit of dark rum. Insert straw, put your feet up, and chill out.
Ramos Gin Fizz In 1888, Henry C. Ramos invented the gin fizz, which, people said, was like drinking a flower. Customers swarmed to his bar; in the 1915 Mardi Gras season, 35 shaker boys made fizzes while customers waited over an hour to down one. Huey P. Long toted his gin-fizzing bartender from the old Roosevelt Hotel (now the Fairmont Hotel) along on trips to New York so he could live like a Kingfish. Throw the following into a blender or drink mixer: 1 and one-half oz. gin, 2-3 drops orange flower water, 2 egg whites, 5 tsp. powdered sugar, 2 tsp. lemon juice, 1 oz. half-and-half, a dash of vanilla, a splash of club soda, one-half cup cracked ice. Frappé until frothy, strain, and voilà: a drink fit for a Kingfish.
Roffignac Cocktail The Count de Roffignac emigrated hastily to New Orleans after Marie Antoinette advocated eating cake, but the peasants opted instead to slice up the aristos. Mayor, financier, and Battle of New Orleans vet, the count had a favorite drink that still bears his name: 1 jigger cognac, a splash of simple syrup, soda and grenadine. Serve over ice.
Sazerac This intriguingly aromatic cocktail was originally blended with Sazerac-de-Forge et Fils brandy, to which absinthe was later added. (Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.) This N.O. original is now mixed with Herbsaint or Pernod and bourbon, rum, or rye, with a dash of Peychaud’s and/or Angostura bitters for an interesting bite. Coat the inside of the glass with Herbsaint or Pernod. In a shaker, add a couple of jiggers of bourbon or rye, 3 dashes of bitters, 2 tsp. simple syrup, and some ice. Shake, strain, and serve straight up. On the rocks is not the N.O. way. Garnish with lemon.
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