by Jon Laiche
None 2:30 p.m. 1:40 p.m. 3:00 p.m.
Vespers 5:00 p.m. 3:00 p.m. 7:00 p.m.
(Sunset) (6:00 p.m.) (3:50 p.m.) (8:20 p.m.)
Compline 7-8:00 p.m. 5-6:00 p.m. 9:30 p.m.
The above table, although rather universal, was found at:
http://www.troynovant.com/Farrell-A/Essays/Medieval-Timekeeping.html
Eight
CHRISTMAS WITH THE URSULINES
One marvelous aspect of living in this new land of Louisiana is the holiday season. Winter in New Orleans is sometimes very cold, but more often it is cool and comfortable. Since it is a mostly dry season, the mosquitoes seem to go away for months at a time. After several hard years in the beginning, the harvests are becoming more regular. The marketplace on the levee, just a short walk from my potager, has settled into a routine since our house was finished. Indeed, now in the year of our Lord 1738, life in the colony and the city has become more peaceful and dare I say, less eventful than those first fifteen years. Often in those days, it seemed quite possible that perhaps the whole colony, much less the town, would slip quietly into the swamp from whence it rose, never to be heard from again. So many people came and went. Scores and hundreds passed through on their way to the richer (and drier) lands to the north. More hundreds succumbed to the fevers and climate of the Ile d’Orleans and filled the cemeteries. Nevertheless, the town grew little by little. Our house was finished in 1726, my garden was well established by ’28. Our sisters in faith, the Ursuline nuns, had arrived in 1727, and established their convent to aid us in our never-ending ministry to provide aid and comfort - as well as the more important mission bringing the word of God and spiritual guidance - to our fellow emigres as well as the Natives of this rich land along the mighty river.
But I digress, I was writing about the fine winters we have in the southern reaches of Louisiana, and about the holidays, which are now upon us. The feast of All Saints has just passed and the capital is now getting ready to bring in the harvest and prepare for the great feast day of Our Lord’s Nativity. These holidays, this time of the year, are collectively known as Noel in the old country. As the centuries passed and the Roman Latin of our Gallic ancestors gradually turned into French. The natalis dies (birth day) of Our Lord Jesus became nael, which is now pronounced by most Frenchmen as “Noel”. We use the term today to signify both the entire holy season from St, Nicholas’ Day (Dec. 6th) to Epiphany (Jan. 6th), as well as Christmas Day itself.Now, as life in the capital had fallen into regular patterns over the past decade or so, certain traditions are being established among the inhabitants. Here in New Orleans and the colony, the winter weather provides the perfect environment to remember our childhood Noels in France and combine them with the natural abundance of our New World. We bring in boughs of cypress and pine to decorate the Church and the Square, as well as some homes around town. New candles are placed in all the windows about town, turning back the darkness to allow St. Nicholas, who is now called by some today, Pere Noel, to place treats and trinkets into the children’s shoes. The church is filled to the proverbial rafters for Midnight Mass on Christmas Day itself and then the families of the town all retreat to their homes, accompanied by aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends from the countryside, for that most French of traditions, Le Grande Reveillon.
The Reveillon welcomes Lord Jesus into the world with what is probably the biggest feast of the year. The Reveillon is THE dinner during which all the stops are pulled out. Everything French, cuisine and wine, the best the farm or market has to offer, is prepared and served. Traditionally, the feast includes rare and special foods such as oysters, escargots, meat pies. foie gras, etc. One traditional dish
is turkey with chestnuts. Other poultry is served roasted, braised, and stewed. Beef and pork make goodly appearances as well. Sweets take the foreground this season. A particularly French Christmas cake is the Buche de Noel, a chocolate cake in the form of the Yule Log of ancient times. In the south of France, the old Roman Provence, they actually serve 13, that’s right. thirteen! individual desserts at the end of the Reveillon. Of course, it wouldn’t be a French meal without wine to wash it all down. Here in Louisiana, wine is not so plentiful, but we always manage to have a supply on hand. Our home monastery being from Champagne, you will never guess which wine we use to toast the celebrations of the Lord’s Nativity. The waterways, forests, and marshes of Louisiana abound in game and seafood. Now with regular harvests, we also have at hand ample quantities of produce from the potagers around the city as well as the German Coast upriver; rice, maize, millet, and other grains from the fields; and a fine selection of herbs. Beef, wild and domestic, pork, and poultry are also now readily available. Spanish, Dutch, and English ships often pass along our coast, and - while they may not come upriver to the city itself - frequently trade some of their cargoes with our coastal settlements. Spices, chili peppers, and other products from the islands, Mexico, or Florida find their way to our Levee market. Even some occasional French ships show up and we can get wine from the old country to supplement our home grown supply of beer and muscat or orange wine. Also, as of late, here in the capital, we have been getting a steady supply of wheat flour from the Illinois settlers in Upper Louisiana. All of this provender is turned to great use as we prepare The Reveillon.
At this most pleasant and festive time of the year, the normal custom has become for the brothers, priests, and nuns in our little community to attend reveillons around the town as guests of various families. This particular year, however, all the religious community and some of the town gentry have decided to hold the feast in the Place d’Armes. Blessed by good weather, the feast proceeded with great pomp and circumstance. Invited as well were the less fortunate inhabitants of our little city.
Praising God, we welcomed Jesus’ birth day. Eating like Frenchmen, we celebrated the sunrise on this most festive holiday and passed a real good time. Of course, Sister Kitchen and myself prepared most of the feast. I must not forget to mention there were contributions of dishes, both savory and sweet from practically all of the folks in attendance. My special contribution to the Christmas feast was . . .
Tante Marie’s Dirty Rice
My Family’s Noel Tradition, a Recipe of my Wonderful Aunt
from the Ardennes Forest
INGREDIENTS:
The Holy Trinity - onions, green peppers, celery PLUS TWO - garlic and parsley
1 lb. ground pork
giblets of one chicken
water
salt, pepper, a soupçon of cayenne, any other seasoning you like
2 to 3 cups of rice (before cooking)
TECHNIQUE:
Since this is a dressing, use more of the Trinity than normal, say about 3 onions, 3 or 4 peppers, half to one whole bunch of celery, half to one whole head of garlic, a handful of parsley. The amount to use depends on how much dressing you want and the size of the vegetables. Chop the veggies finely and sauté (in butter or olive oil) in a large stew pot for about 5 to 10 minutes.
While they’re cooking, chop the giblets until they resemble ground meat. Place the giblets and the pork in the pot and fry them off in the vegetables. Fill the pot with water, add the seasonings and boil away all the water (this takes a couple or three hours).
Again, depending on the amount of dressing desired, cook 1,2, or 3 cups of rice as you would for any normal dinner. Set aside. Usually 2 cups (before cooking) will suffice to balance the meat and vegetable flavors.
Watch the boiling pot carefully as the water level begins to disappear, do not let the dressing dry out completely. Remove from heat, and begin mixing in the rice one big spoon at a time. Correct the seasoning as you go. After two cups (before cooking) of rice have been added, you need to decide whether or not you need to add more. At this stage, you should have a good balance of rice to meat to vegetable flavors, season to taste. It’s good to eat now, as is, OR
The dressing can now be baked in separate baking dishes or stuffed into various birds or cuts of mea
t. Dirty Rice cooked in a bird will acquire extra flavoring from the juices of the fowl as it cooks.
Bring the dressing out to the Revellion in plates or stuffed into the birds, add it (them) to the table with everyone else’s dishes and have a most
JOYEAUX NOËL !
Nine
GRILLADES AND GRITS
Pere Raphael was in an expansive mood. After five years of struggle, pain, hardship, and illness; after losing several of our brothers to disease and death in this New World; after the trials of starting a mission to bring the Gospel, the Church, and the simple comfort of having a priest or brother to provide support and spiritual guidance to Louisiana’s Natives and settlers alike, we at last had a place to live. Our mission now had a church and presbytere wherein we could call our home and headquarters. When we arrived in our new “city” after the hurricane of September, 1722, there was not much of a city to inhabit. For years, my kitchen was our only chapel. From our first poor hovel of three rooms, we set out on our ministry. By 1724 we moved to somewhat larger quarters in the abandoned barracks along the eastern side of the “town square” (at that time, a mere patch of grass on the river in the middle of city). From these more adequate quarters, we were able to begin building our new home. Near the beginning of Lent in ’26, we moved into the Presbytere, and I finally had a real kitchen to cook in, with space outside the backdoor for the potager. Through ’26 and into ’27, the work on the church proceeded. Forgive my pride, but the sagamite from my kitchen gave sustenance to the workers, as well as my brothers who guided their efforts. And now, as the church neared completion, Pere Raphael called me into his presence. It was still the middle of Lent, but plans were already being put into place. The governor, the Company director, and other of the local gentry were to be invited to a
celebration dinner in the spring of 1727. Among the guests for that evening were Governor Perrier, Commissioner De La Chaise, Pere Raphael, Mesdames de Villemont-Rivard, Dubreuil, and Caron.
“Gerard, I need you to begin thinking about the Easter season,” he started, “I am hoping to see our new Church of St. Louis dedicated towards the end of April. The 24th seems a good day to do it. Its about 2 weeks after Easter, still in a period of good weather, and not too many distracting holidays. I need you to plan a dinner for the night before. Something really special to honor our local dignitaries, and to get this special celebration started. Prepare a suitable feast to set off these special events on good footing. Do you think you can handle it?” he winked. “Reverend Father,” I gratefully responded, “thank you for this honor and, of course, I already have some ideas for such an occasion.”
As hard and miserable as those first years were in our community, there were occasional happy moments. Earlier this year, a small group of Ursuline Nuns had arrived in the city and their work went far to alleviate some of our burden. Every once in a while, a supply ship would arrive with some relief to our perennial food shortages and news of our homeland. On one such ship, a kind friend in Paris had sent along a true treasure for our kitchen. It was a copy of a new book, Le Nouveau Cuisinier Royal et Bourgeois by François Massialot, the chef de cuisine for His Majesty at Versailles. This remarkable volume contained all sorts of techniques and recipes for cooks, humble and high, to use in their labors. I turned to this tome and soon had found the perfect dish. What’s more, this particular grillée could be served with some local foods, making a new and unique dish for Louisiana. The meal would begin with a green salad of early lettuces and herbs from the potager. A dressing of olive oil and vinegar would serve. Some fine wheat and rice loaves with good butter would follow with a soup of shrimp, oysters, crab and German sausage. The main course would be Monsieur Massialot’s Cotelettes de Veau Grillées served over some of the finest ground sagamite. This would be accompanied by a few bottles from our home
province of Champagne. All would be followed by strawberries, oranges, pecans and fresh cream from the German Coast. Coffee, Chocolate and Brandy would wash everything down.
An old recipe for Veal Grillades from the Massillot Cookbook of 1699. We interpret it to be perhaps an original preparation from which the now famous Creole Grits & Grillades dish originated.
Cotelettes de Veau grillées (Author’s translation)
Cut a square of veal into chops and adorn (dress) them cleanly without being too long, put it in to marinade for one hour with salt, pepper, mushrooms, parsley, leeks, a small point of garlic, and little hot butter; “then coat the chops in bread crumbs to help seal in the
marinade”*. Put them on the grill with a small fire, sprinkling them with the rest of the marinade; when they are cooked to a good color, serve under the sauce of a clear juice with two spoonfuls of sour grape juice OR juice of unripe grapes, salt, coarse pepper. Or you can serve without sauce.
*“then you make hold the marinade after the chops by sponsoring them with the bread crumb.”
Original literal translation
Today’s Grits & Grillades is usually made from either Veal or Beef round steaks, but really a “grillade” is simply translated as a piece of fried meat. Also, as French cuisine did not fully adapt to the tomato until Napoleon’s time or later, the inclusion of a tomato sauce may be seen as a true Creole adaptation of the early 19th century.
MODERN ADAPTATION: Marinade as directed, but cook the meat down in a tomato sauce of choice for an hour or two and serve over grits.
Ten
RIVER SHRIMP AT LENT
Among the many defining aspects of the new colony’s capital and of Louisiana in general, from the Mobile settlement to La Balize at the mouth of the mighty St. Louis (Mississippi) is water. Water of the coast, the lakes, the bayous, and the great river itself is the stuff of the colony. In most places in and around the capital, the land itself is mostly water. In my point of view from the kitchen and garden, this defining aspect takes on the myriad forms of foods provided by the water. Louisiana is blessed with yet another abundance of victuals. those from the sea. There is always a fresh supply of fish, oysters, shrimp, clams, crabs, and even the little crawfish that swarm our streets and ponds in the spring. Native fishermen, river folk from Canada and France, as well as new migrants from southern France, bring their nautical expertise to our shores and keep the markets full of these creatures to compliment the game from the hunters, and the produce and domestic beasts and fowl from our ever-expanding farms and gardens.
All of this gives rise to a peculiar situation in our Catholic colony. Since Our Lord Jesus’ gave Himself to the world in the greatest sacrifice of all time, by His death on the Holy Cross for our salvation; personal sacrifice has been an essential part of our Catholic religious practice. Now as we approach Lent, the season Holy Mother Church has set aside for the specific practice of
personal sacrifice, the issue of Louisiana’s abundant and delicious seafood is surely to become an issue. Traditionally, abstaining from meat in our daily diets is one popular method of performing our sacrificial duty. Most laypeople, normally, throughout the year, abstain on Wednesdays and Fridays. Abstinence is also the usual practice throughout the Lenten season, for six weeks before the great feast days of Easter,. And, while fasting altogether is the most desirable of sacrificial practices, for one reason or another - usually dealing with age or health - abstaining from meat in our meals is a common and acceptable substitute.
In Europe, for centuries, fish and other seafood (relatively rare in inland areas), have become the traditional meat “substitute”. Now here in Louisiana, it is possible to “substitute” fish and seafood for meat virtually every day. Combine this with the variety of cooking styles and techniques we have learned from our Indian and African neighbors, as well as our own - not inconsiderable - French culinary heritage, it is hardly a sacrifice for us to consume these delicious meals as a method of honoring our religious convictions and practices. All of this being said, it is not the place of this lowly kitchen friar to question the wisdom of Holy Mother Church.
Last year, s
ome ships from home brought with them some river seines of a type which had been used for centuries by the rivermen in France, to harvest the bounty of our waterways. The great St. Louis River (the Mississippi) teems with such fresh water produce. Turning once again to M. Massiallot’s ever useful “Cuisinier” and with Pere Raphael’s blessing, I am preparing such a dish for the first Sunday in Lent. I will be boiling a fine catch of river shrimp and serving it with M. Massialot’s new “Sauce Ramolade”.
Shrimp and Sauce Ramolade
An original recipe from the 1727 edition of Massialot’s Le Cuisinier Royal et Bourgeois, first published in 1693.
Try this ramolade recipe from the seventeenth century, truly nothing new under the sun!
THE MASSIALOT RAMOLADE RECIPE (Author’s translation):
For several fillets of fish, one makes a sauce called Ramolade, it is made of chopped parsley, chopped leeks, chopped anchovies, chopped capers, put it all in a plate (bowl) with a little salt, some pepper, nutmeg, oil and vinegar, mix together well in a little water; Set your (cooked) fillets on a dish, and sprinkle with this Ramolade. Now, some dishes add some lemon juice, to serve it cold.
The above recipe, obviously for fish, is easily adapted to the traditional Louisiana dish using shrimp instead. The quantities here are to feed a dinner party. Reduce the proportions accordingly to serve your family or your significant other.
SIMPLE BOILED SHRIMP
To get you started, here are some common measurements. For 10 lbs. of shrimp, use 3 gallons of water;
4 unpeeled onions
¼ cup cayenne