by Jon Laiche
Louis toward La Fourche. Our first stop was at the town which had been a Native community since before we clumsy Frenchmen stumbled into the mouths of the great river. Since the first explorers arrived some thirty years ago, it had been occupied by the Bayougoulas, the Chitimacha**, and now the Houmas.
Here at the river’s fork, we stayed for a few days to get some sense of where we were headed. Pere Anselm sought information about their beliefs and spiritual culture. I befriended the hunters, the women, and the fishermen to see what they fed their people and, more importantly, how they acquired and prepared their food. In this quest for information about the acquisition, preparation, and consumption of the local fruites de mer, the very first thing I learned from the Houmas is that - most interestingly - the Native nations do not eat their symbol or sacred animals. The Houmas’ “totem” is the red crawfish, and they would never think of consuming it. It was the same for the other petits nations as well. Each Native tribe had such a sacred animal, never to be consumed.. Now as to the crawfish or, in French, l’ecrevisse, this water dweller is very like a miniature lobster. while most of the nations find it very tasty, specifically the tail or claw meat. Being small and rather difficult to extract, the meat is also used in a variety of delicious dishes. After peeling enough crawfish, they can produce many fine meals. Anyway, since the Houmas do not prepare or consume them, for now I considered the other fishes and their kin. La Fourche itself as well as the numerous streams, bayous, lakes, and ponds that are the Houma homelands provide a wealth of tasty species. It took me a while to distinguish among the gar, choupique, catfish, paddlefish, sunfish,bass, eel, sac a lait, sturgeon, gizzard shad, and buffalo fish. Traveling down the La Fourche closer to the Mexican Gulf, the types of fish multiplied to include drum, croaker, speckled trout, redfish, flounder, and mullet from the coasts and bays. Along with the various fin-fish, during our extended visit we caught and consumed oysters found abundantly in the lakes and coastal waters. Everywhere from the St. Louis down to the Gulf, there were huge amounts of mussels, shrimp and crabs. From the marsh itself, I learned to prepare and -surprisingly,
really enjoy - frogs of extraordinary size and even turtles, terrapins, and alligators. Finally, even though my Houma friends and guides showed me how, I couldn’t bring myself to consume the snakes.
Gathering the harvests of the waters occurred in many methods. The Houmas harvested the catch with hooks, lines, hoop nets made of rabbit-vines, cone-shaped traps made with wooden slats, trot-lines (a local creation where many hooks are dangled from one strong line stretched over the entire stream) and weirs ( sort of a fence or corral set into the stream, first used by the Natchez). Sometimes, fish were speared in shallow water by night and sometimes poisoned.This technique was usually employed in summer when the small streams were low. Poison was obtained from the horse chestnut, or buckeye; the root of the devil’s shoestring, or catgut or from green hickory nuts or walnut hulls. The Natives would crush these materials and stir them into a pool, where the fish, with their gills paralyzed, floated to the surface. Once the fish and/or shellfish are gathered, there is virtually no difference between our “civilized” way of cooking and preparing the meal, and the cooking ways of Houmas and other nations in the region. Well, maybe one difference, all of their cooking is normally done outdoors over a fire pit, whereas ours is usually done over the fire of an indoor hearth. Nevertheless, boiling, baking, broiling, roasting, frying, and parching are all accomplished on the bayous and marshes surrounding La Fourche just as in the royal kitchens of Paris. Separate pots are used for each type of food prepared. Meat, vegetable, grains , or fish are usually cooked separately, except when combined in common soups, porridges, stews, and mush. Here, in this part of the new world, at least, bear oil serves as quite an adequate substitute for olive oil. I can only wish that my readers can see from this, that we Europeans are really not much advanced in the ways of life as our “little brothers” of the Americas. ‡
As to the cooking of the fish and other seafood, as is normal among all folk, there is a traditional set of cooking styles for any and all of the seafood to which then are added all sorts of variations. For instance . . .
Boiling Seafood
A very common method of preparing shellfish, especially crabs, crawfish, or shrimp is to boil them. The process is similar regardless which species is being cooked. There are actually two stages in the boiling method, cleaning and boiling. Cleaning the shrimp is a simple matter of washing them in clean water. Some people like to devein the shrimp, which is best done with a small, very sharp knife. This usually works best with larger shrimp, with small shrimp, the vein does not make that much difference. When boiling fresh shrimp, remove the heads (reserve for stock), but do not peel the shrimp, then proceed to the boil.
Since live crabs or crawfish is used in boiling, the cleaning process is a bit different. The first stage is gently hosing down the shellfish to remove all the external dirt, mud, vegetation, etc. Once cleaned the animals are then “purged”, that is coved in a bath of brine, which serves to internally clean them out. From the purge the crabs or crawfish are dropped live into the boiling water. Before starting the cleaning process, it is useful to set up the boiling pot and start the seasoning and boiling. Start with enough water to cover the intended quantity and then some. The first seasoning is salt, which is used liberally to make a strong brine. The second essential is some form of pepper. Cayenne is usually used, but black pepper and spice/herb mixtures are also common. Experiment with several of these to find your preference. After these two, the boiling pot is open to interpretation. A standard combination is onions, celery, garlic, and lemon. The combinations, however, are endless and totally up to the cook. Bay leaf is often used, and most boils include fresh maize-on-the-cob and new red potatoes in the mix.
The actual cooking of the shrimp is done very quickly, for two minutes to be exact. The overall procedure, though is somewhat lengthy. Adherence to the strict timetable will insure a perfect boiled shrimp every time.
Step 1; Add your chosen seasoning to the boiling pot and make the stock first, boil for about 10 to 15 minutes minimum.
Step 2: Add the potatoes to the pot, return to boil and let boil for four (4) minutes.
Step 3: Add the corn to the pot, return to boil and let boil for eleven (11) minutes.
Step 4: Add the clean shrimp to the pot, return to boil and let boil for two (2) minutes.
Step 5: Turn off the fire, remove the pot from the burner, as they cool the shrimp will sink into the flavored stock and begin to soak up the seasoning.
Step 6: Let the shrimp “soak” for 15 to 20 minutes, the longer they soak, the more seasoning they absorb.
Step 7: EAT !!!
Basic Fried Fish or Shellfish
{NOTE: The following has been adapted to 21st Century kitchens}
Frying means cooking something in hot oil. In colonial Louisiana that meant either bear oil, olive oil, lard, or butter. Seasoning the seafood with some salt and placing it into the heated oil is the simplest method. One can fry in deep fat (about an inch or two deep in a home kitchen) or simply in a pan coated with the fat or perhaps a quarter to a half inch in depth. Seafood generally cooks through very quickly. Depending on the size and thickness of the food being cooked, anywhere from a minute on each side to no more than five minutes a side should do. If deep fat is used the fish, oysters, shrimp,
etc. will be done when it floats. That’s it!
The art of turning cooking into cuisine is what makes a culture like the Creole famous and sought after. Knowledge, experience, openness to new ingredients and methods, a sense of simplicity, and even some playfulness all combine to make a process as simple as frying into a work of art. A first step may be adding more spices and herbs to the seafood before the frying. A common second step is to “bread” the seafood in flour, breadcrumbs, or a combination of both. After these have been done and tested to your taste, the addition of sauces or the combination of other meats or fi
sh with the fried morsels is a final step in the potential endless line of variations on the “frying” theme. To get started, let’s consider three dishes to explore the basics of fried, breaded and sauced seafood.
Fried Shrimp
Remove the heads and peel the shrimp, reserve the heads and peels for making a seafood stock. Season the shrimp with salt and pepper, fennel and/or ground coriander add that “Louisiana” taste. In a pan heat up your fat of choice until a small ball of meat or some bread sizzles when it is dropped in. Keeping temperature in mind, add one or two shrimp until they began to sizzle, then add the rest of the shrimp one at a time until they all are happily sizzling away. Let them fry until pinkish brown in color and they begin to float in the fat. Remove with a slotted spoon or spatula and drain on paper towels until cool enough to eat. Enjoy!
Breading Catfish (or anything else)
Breading (simple): Mix a cup of flour and a cup of cornmeal together, add some salt and cayenne pepper. Begin with this simple mixture, then add other herbs and seasoning to taste. Vary the type and grind of the flour and cornmeal as well. Place the mix in a clean, empty butter tub. Get the deep fryer or a heavy pan ready, place the pan on the heat and add about one half inch of oil (of your choice). Have the fish soaking in water or beer. Place a fillet or some “nuggets” in the flour, close the lid and shake the tub until the fish is
coated. Using the same test for temperature (as above) place one small piece in the oil, when it begins to sizzle, add the fillets or the nuggets. Bread the rest of the fish in the same manner, and fry for about five minutes. Judge the time by the thickness of the fish, and turn over at least once in the hot oil. Remove with a slotted spoon or spatula and drain on paper towels until cool enough to eat. Enjoy!
Breading (complex): Use two types of breading, a flour mixture as above and some breadcrumbs in separate plates. Soak the catfish as above, but also prepare and egg/milk wash (seasoned as you like). Prepare your hot oil and proceed: Shake the wet fish in the flour mixture, move the fish to a quick dip into the seasoned wash, then roll in the bread crumbs. Repeat until you have enough to fill the pan. Place all the fish into the pan and let fry for five to eight minutes (depending on size).Turn over at least once in the frying process, Remove with a slotted spoon or spatula and drain on paper towels until cool enough to eat. Enjoy!
These same breading techniques work well with shrimp, oysters, any fish fillets you like, chicken, pork chops, and small, thin cuts of beef.
After a large catch, the Houmas would put the extra fish on a grill over a low fire to smoke and dry for later use. This common method would also be used for any game or other meat they wished to preserve over time.
A HISTORICAL ADDENDUM:
About 50 miles upriver from New Orleans, the Mississippi opens one of its largest distributaries in SE Louisiana. On its western bank a large bayou drains some of its mighty waters through a rich and fertile plain down into the Gulf. So large, in fact, that its name defines it, not as a bayou, but as a fork in the great river. Later usage has demoted it to a bayou, but Bayou LaFourche still remains the fork in the river at present day Donaldsonville. Even in the earliest French records, this river fork, and the land around it was occupied.
Figuring out which Native group lived where in Lower Louisiana is an on-going puzzle. Between 1699 and 1803, the Louisiana Indians grew and shrunk in numbers, moved around, merged together, broke apart, fought with each other, lived with each other in the same villages and towns, battled the French settlers, traded with them, intermarried (or interbred) with Frenchmen, Spaniards, each other, and even some British wanderers. It is safe to say that basically they were rovers of the swamps and rivers of SE Louisiana. Comparing and analyzing the colonial sources along with modern studies of archaeology, tribal histories, and Native Louisiana folklore, a picture emerges of nomadic groups who survived along the edges of the marsh and the various rivers and bayous that is the Gulf coast of south Louisiana. It may be useful to compare their wanderings to the semi-nomadic lifestyle of the buffalo hunters of the same era on the North American Plains. In simple terms, all of these family groups and clan/tribes followed the game migrations. Seasonal villages were built along the group’s migratory cycle. People came and went with the seasons or with the flux in population. Different groups merged together and broke apart as climate conditions, landscapes, game populations, and human politics demanded. Unlike our neat Euro-American farmsteads, settlements, ranges, and ranches, which we claim and call our private property, Native Louisianians lived in the best places they could find, and the distributary at Bayou LaFourche remained a “best place” for this entire period and beyond.
Here in 1699, Iberville found the Chitimachas. Upriver he met the Bayougoulas and the Houmas. Further on were the Tunica. Later the Tunica joined the Houmas, then fought with them. The Tunicas eventually moved north to the Red River confluence and the Houmas south to Bayou LaFourche. By then, the Chitimachas and Bayougoulas had merged, and had been absorbed by the Houmas.* In any event, the now consolidated Houmas spread out down LaFourche and over the marshlands on either bank. It was here that Frére Gerard finds them in the 1730’s.
Today, Native Houma Indians may be found all over Louisiana. Our readers need to be aware that although the evidence is overwhelming, the Federal government still does not recognize the Houmas as a Native nation ! Typical of the injustice caused by the silly action or non-action of the US bureaucracy, we should do all we can to right this wrong. To learn more about Louisiana’a largest Indian nation and their battle for recognition and against this blatant injustice, please visit:
www.southernstudies.org/node/4730Share
United Houma Nation at www.unitedhoumanation.org
The flat-bottomed Lafitte skiffs from the Houmas area . . . are considered one of the Native Americans' contributions to Louisiana's culture.
* Vogel, The Capuchins in French Louisiana, p.60
** In modern times, the Chitimachas again split from Houmas and are now their own group - the process continues.
† Kniffin, et. al., pp. 202-204.
‡ All of this has been paraphrased from Kniffin, et. al.,
pp. 204 ff.
Fourteen
FRERE GERARD’S POTAGER
Finally, after about a year and a half in the little “shack” that served as our our original home, we were moved to larger quarters in some former barracks at the corner of Rue Chartres and Rue Ste. Anne. These were directly across the street from where the new church and presbytere were being built. The larger space also allowed for a real chapel to be installed as well as an adequately sized kitchen. As the winter of 1724-25 waned, I approached Pére Raphaël and requested to place the potager across the street directly behind the site of the new presbytere in the rear of the square that had been reserved for our use. I reasoned that, since plans for the new presbytere were already being drawn up, it would be counter-productive to dig a garden on the river side of Rue Chartres and only have to dig a brand new one on the opposite side in a season or two. Pere Raphael commended me on my foresight and ordered me begin as soon as the weather allowed. Together we paced off a large plot bounded by the Rues St. Anne, Rue Royal, and what was proposed to become the central Rue d’Orleans. The front of the property facing the Rue Chartres, of course was left open for the soon-to-be built presbytere. I set to work at once observing the sun’s path across the property and laying out the garden plan. In late winter, right before Ash Wednesday, I moved some of city’s many orange trees to
the line of the garden along Rue d’Orleans and turned the corner at Rue Royal to finish the line and mark the potager’s western boundary. Interspersed between the established trees, I planted some plums and sassafras as well. On the eastern (Rue St. Anne) edge, I planted a low hedge, so as not to interfere with the morning sun.
As Lent began to merge with Eastertide, it was now time to decide what to plant and where to plant it. As the winter progressed, I had the entire space dug over, we
eded, dug again, manured, hoed and chopped up and made ready for the seeds and sets.
As a boy in the monastery at Charleville, the friars had put me to work in the kitchen and garden. The two are natural companions and complement the production of one to the other. As all things within monastery walls, not much space is given to ornament (excepting the church, of course). And while various fancy foods and dishes are prepared in our kitchens, they are mostly reserved for traveling noble guests, local dignitaries, and high feast-days. So, now as the one in charge of the garden and kitchen, I made it a point to make both serve their proper, everyday roles. Of primary concern in laying out a potager is accessibility. After all one cannot go tromping through the lettuces to get to the beans, or through the potatoes to dig a cabbage or a few onions. So paths through the potager are of prime importance. The actual vegetable “beds” should be no wider than one can reach into halfway, so as to harvest the dinner’s ingredients without disturbing the other plants. Another chief consideration of plant placement is the nature of the vegetable plant itself. For instance, the high stalks of the Indian maize should not block the sun from the low growing plants like cabbages, lettuce, strawberries, etc. With all of this in mind, I set out our first potager as follows:
My first decision (after the orange trees) was to build out some arbors on the northern end, along Rue Royal, to plant the vines. Since winter was still officially here, I also decided to plant a couple of bay laurel and pecan trees at proper points in the potager. Henceforth, I will refer to the plan by the cardinal directions of the compass. If you are not in New Orleans, having our grapevines