From the LA Times
The first time I met chef Paul Prudhomme, he was peering over the stove in his narrow test kitchen, a converted shotgun house just outside the French Quarter in New Orleans. Chef was heating oil in a large cast-iron skillet, and when he saw me, he invited me over to watch him fix gumbo.
When the oil was smoking hot, he quickly whisked in flour to form a roux — "Cajun napalm," he called it — the bubbling mass darkening to a deep chocolate brown in minutes. He stirred a trinity of vegetables into the roux to stop the cooking — onions, celery and bell peppers — then added the roux to a pot of boiling stock. Chopped andouille sausage and garlic went in as he patiently watched the stew, tasting occasionally, over a slow, quiet hour while it gently simmered away. When the rich aroma was almost too much to bear, Chef added chopped chicken, and soon the gumbo was ready.
I can't say which I savored more: the depth of flavor from a seemingly simple dish or the unhurried quiet, almost sacred, time spent preparing it.
Summertime is the best of times and the worst of times.
After cooking up a bunch of boneless and skinless chicken thighs the other day, I decided to turn some of them into chicken a al king. I don't know what made me think of this dish from the past – white sauce with chicken and vegetables stirred into it. For one thing, I've never really cared much for it. It brings back bad memories of creamed chipped beef and canned peas that my mom used to make when I was a child. She'd serve it over toast. The peas were mushy, the toast was soggy and the chipped beef was – well – chipped beef. I did not like it. Not one bit.
It wasn't until I moved to the West Coast, that I realized how many
people had been deprived of one of my favorite childhood treats - Whoopie
Pies. A New England favorite, Whoopie Pies were always part
of bake sales, school lunches, and family gatherings. And, they were
quite often the confection upon which many mother's were judged. The
variations in the pie (which is actually cake) and the sweetness and
texture of the filling can differ greatly with each recipe. My Aunt
Mary would often lament about the pies turning out too flat, or the
filling too runny. Our next door neighbor, Mrs. Ekberg, made a
memorable Whoopie Pie, with a completely unique cooked
cream filling, a recipe that she never shared, but I later discovered
the method while researching frostings for Red Velvet Cake. At home, my
sister has become the family champion of Whoopie Pies, and has a blue
ribbon from the county fair to prove it.
Leave it to my grandmother’s generation to have a delicious dessert with gelatin. A standby ingredient of the “greatest generation,” gelatin is often forgotten these days. Yet, this one ingredient provides a fantastic texture and appearance for dessert dishes. Strawberry Charlotte Russe is an “oldie but goodie,” for its name is derivative of Russian royalty and French culinary prowess.
