The Petticoat Rebellion

by Jon Laiche

  planted along Rue Royale will not mean much to you in your planning. So, leaving about 3 pieds between the grape arbors and the first vegetable bed, I planted six rows of maize on the eastern side of the potager, Following the Native practice of planting the “three sisters” together, between the corn stalks I planted some Indian beans (“snap” or green beans). These would use the corn stalks to climb upon. Finally, between the rows, I sowed the seeds for some melons and summer squash.

  The next bed, or central one, would be devoted to onions, garlic, potatoes, and carrots, surrounded along the edges by lettuces and chard. The main ground of the potager between the northern beds and the kitchen walls themselves, I decided, in honor of our Savior, to lay out in a cruciform. Making the arms of the cross all equal in length and width, rather than crucifix, the narrow cross (about three pieds wide) will be the herb garden. Within the northern pointing arm, I am planting rosemary and tarragon. The arm pointing south will hold my parsley and sage. The east facing arm contains the thyme and fennel. Finally the western arm holds my planting of radish,shallots, sweet potatoes, spinach.

  Now all that remains to be planted are the four quarters of the cross. In the NW corner of the NW quarter, I planted a fig tree. The rest of the NW quarter were rows of peas and celery. The NE quarter is being planted with a variety of lettuces and greens. Mache lettuce from home, along with arugula, turnips, beets, and endives. Enclosing the lettuce plot are the artichokes. In the SE quarter I decided to experiment with those Native plants called peppers. Finally, another fig tree in the SW corner along with some strawberries, raspberries, and pineapples. As always in a living gardens these spring and summer plants will replaced, as August wanes into September with winter squashes, broccoli, more cabbages, those little tiny cabbages from Brussels, and whatever other fall plantings are allowed by our generous warm climate.

  As April faded into May and Pentecost approaches, our new potager had taken form. Planted in such a way as to allow one to reach into every bed at least halfway, so as not to disturb the soil. The paths between all the sections of the potager are all 2 to 3 pieds wide and will soon be graveled. On a fine day at the end of April, 1725. Pére Raphaël and the community joined me in a Blessing ceremony. So now we only await God’s blessing and the magic of His natural creation to do their work, and our kitchen will now be provided with a steady stream of good, fresh food. The sun warms the soil, and the gentle spring rains nourish the ground, and the

  Capuchin friars have, with the grace of Our Lord, set - pardon the pun - the first permanent roots of their presbytere and potager.

  As the potager matured during that first summer I’ve made many trips over to the garden, gathering the vegetables as they ripened. During that first summer, the Louisiana heat and frequent rains - by the grace of God - produced a bumper crop for the brothers table. So much in fact, that we always had plenty to share with the poor of the city and the travelers who were passing through. Merging old and new techniques and vegetables, I was able to create this recipe.

  Yam, Onion, and Sweet Pepper Casserole

  You will need 2 sweet potatoes, a bell pepper, a small onion, seasonings of your choice. salt, 5 toes of garlic, a bit of turnip, some sesame or poppy seeds, or another your choice, and some butter.

  Parboil two medium sweet potatoes, then slice them, skin included, about 1/2 inch thick. slice a small green pepper about 1/4 inch thick, slice 1/2 small onion even thinner. Layer the sweet potato, then a layer of pepper, then a layer of onion, salting each layer as you go. Coarsely chop 5 toes of garlic and add pieces to each layer as you go up. When all the vegetables are used up, add about six slices of turnip. Top with poppy seeds and sesame seeds and about 6 generous pats of butter. bake in a moderate oven for at least an hour. This will make a stand-alone casserole or a wholesome and nutritious side dish for 4 to 6 people.

  A HISTORICAL ADDENDUM

  A 1730 plan of the city indicates that the Presbytere occupied the whole square - Chartres, St. Ann, Royal, and Orleans. The potager in the rear fills most of the space. Notes from the following original sources illustrate the establishment of the Capuchin Presbytere and Potager during the 18th Century.

  “Finally, on February 27, 1725, de la Chaise notified the Directors … that work on the house for the Capuchin fathers had been started and the framework was already set up by that date. {Fr. Raphael to Capuchin Superior in September of 1725), “We have here as yet neither church nor parsonage”.

  “By the early part of 1726, the Capuchin’s house was completed and they occupied it, …”

  Baudier, Roger. The Catholic Church in Louisiana. New Orleans: A.W. Hyatt Stationery Mfg. Co. Ltd., 1939. pp. 81-83.

  ( Prior to their occupation of the square where the Cathedral and Presbytere still stand, the Capuchin brothers and priests had . . . )

  1722: A three room shack (presumably near the river) wherein the kitchen and the chapel are the same room.

  1723/4 The barracks next to the square, larger quarters?? a separate kitchen???

  1726: The Capuchin Presbytère, occupying the corner of Chartres and St. Anne (as well as the whole square with the potager in the rear).

  Apparently the Capuchin residence survived until the great fire of 1788, after which the Spanish replaced it with the beginnings of the present-day Presbytére.

  “Construction begun through the generosity of Don Andres Almonester/Roxas, was halted when he died in 1798. The building remained unfinished, only one story high, until it was completed by the Wardens of St. Louis Cathedral in 1818. … Never used for its intended purpose as a rectory or presbytère, the building was rented to the city for use as a courthouse and {finally} sold to the city in 1853.”

  From the plaque on the present day Presbytère building at St. Ann and Chartres in New Orleans.

  Fifteen

  LES SAUSSES- THE 3 SAUCES MERES

  When I was a young man in Champagne, just coming into my own in the cloister’s kitchen in Charleville, old Brother Kitchen, whose real name was Frère Bernard, pulled me aside one day. “Gerard”, he said, “you have tended the fires, cleaned the hearth, and cultivated the potager since you came here as a lad four Easters ago. Along the way, I have watched you as I have minded all the boys in my charge. Your actions, your obedience, and - of most importance - your questions have proven to me that you, of all my charges, have the promise to succeed me one day.” Needless to say I was most pleased with myself upon hearing this. So pleased that I may have to confess the sin of pride at my next confession. In any event, Frère Bernard took me under his wing and began to teach me his recipes and, more importantly his methods, in the preparation of meals for our convent. At first, I made the soups and the porridges. He let me begin to bake the breads and even to prepare some simple meals for the Abbot and other senior friars. Finally, after many months of this constant practice, he let me join him in preparing the daily main meal for the convent at large. Again, the brothers as a whole, ate mostly soups, porridges, cheese, and bread. On high feast days, we added some meat to the mix by way of stews and sometimes even a fricassée. Of course, we cannot forget fish and other seafood on

  Fridays and Fast Days, especially during Lent. Finally, on those rare occasions when we received a visit from the Bishop or local dignitaries or the infrequent journeys of the duke or his nobles, we got to practice all the culinary arts we so often heard about but never experienced.

  Before the death of our dear King, Louis the Great, his court at Versailles was a showcase for the best cooks in the kingdom. One of these, Chef de Cuisine Francois Massilot, wrote a book which gave an outline, a history, and the methods of preparing - literally - food for a king. The book also included methods of service (i.e. table settings, plates, goblets, etc.) and descriptions of ingredients to use and the method to prepare the ingredients. The foods ranged from the straightforward simple to the elaborate. Our librarian at Charleville managed to get a copy of this work which Frère Bernard would consult prior to our occas
ional high feasts. From this book and his trips to the markets around town, Brother Kitchen was able to put together a large repertoire of recipes and methods which he used when the occasion arose and which he now included in his training of his humble acolyte, myself.

  It has been said that French cooking in general, is largely defined by the use of sauces. Frère Bernard was careful to teach me the three “Sausses Meres” {Mother Sauces}. So called because they are the base for pretty much all of the sauces that come into use. They are the “Sausse Espangnole”, the Spanish or brown sauce; the “Sausse Allemande”, the German or white sauce; and the “Glace” or glaze. Along with these three traditional bases, and usually included within, is a method that I brought to Louisiana and that I have since heard, may be unique to our style of cooking in the colony. The method I speak of has become somewhat of a light-hearted turn of phrase among my fellow cooks at the market, we often say, when sharing recipes, “First, you make a roux.” As the “Sausses Meres” become the basis for many a local dish, the roux is usually the base for the “Sausse Mere”. Why separate the identity of these two? Because a roux is often used by itself as the base of other dishes such as

  gumbo, etoufée, fricassées and the like, whereas the Sausse Mere is the crowning glory of a particular dish.

  Les Sausses:

  Therefore, first, we'll make a roux!

  Preferably in a heavy iron pot, like a cast iron skillet with high sides; heat up a measure of oil into which you will stir in an equal measure of flour.

  Plain lard and plain wheat flour work just fine. As the oil heats, chop, slice, or dice whatever vegetables are going into the dish and have them in a bowl ready to add to the roux IMMEDIATELY to stop the cooking.

  After the oil is heated, the skill to making a good roux is to cook it very low and slow until it has achieved the desired color. Add the flour slowly, and stir, stir, stir. The roux must be constantly stirred to prevent the flour from sticking to the bottom of the pot. IF THE ROUX BURNS, THE DISH IS DESTROYED AND YOU HAVE TO START OVER. The color of the roux ranges from ivory or eggshell to a shade of tan or brown that will ultimately set the color of the sauce you are aiming for. Once the roux is thoroughly blended and the desired color is reached, remove it at once from the heat source and stop the cooking by mixing in the chopped vegetables. Now proceed with whatever recipe you are preparing. One last note on quantity. The usual minimum is one tablespoon each of oil and flour. This amount is used as the base for other more complex sauces. If you are making a big pot of gumbo or stew, or the like, you can use as much as a cup of each oil and flour. TIP: if you want to reduce the “greasiness” of a said sauce or gumbo, go with a ¾ oil to 1 flour ratio and then adjust to your taste as your cooking career goes forward.

  Here are some 21st Century variations.

  As you become more adventurous, vary the oil and flour to get a variety of tastes. Olive, peanut, canola, corn oils for example-if you really want to create an authentic 18th Century roux, use bear fat (believe it or not it's available on the Internet)! Flour from various grains work fine as well – corn flour (most authentic), white wheat flour (also available but pricey in colonial Louisiana), other grains or nut flours (more modern), its up to you and your fevered imagination.

  To achieve the desired color, depending on the dish, you will get the roux to a shade of tan or brown that will ultimately set the color of the finished sauce. Think in terms of peanut butter, café-au-lait, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, etc. regarding the color. The lightest color for the Sausse Allemande will be an ivory or eggshell.

  Once the roux is thoroughly blended and the desired color is reached, remove it at once from the heat source and stop the cooking by mixing in the chopped vegetables. These are known in French cuisine as the mirapoix. The Creole and Cajun mirapoix has come to mean the old ‘Holy Trinity’, that is onions, green peppers, and celery (made into a ‘Divine Quadrivium’ by adding garlic). The French often add carrots to the mix as well.

  After you have mastered the roux, proceed to the other Sausses Meres as follows:

  Translation by author:

  While roasting the partridges, take one and crush well in a mortar: make a puree with the juices of birds being cooked Then take the liver of the fowls, some pieces of truffles (or mushrooms), bind a little to strengthen the puree; set aside in a platter. Take a casserole, with two glasses of Burgundy wine, one or two pods of garlic, two or three slices of onion, and a bit of cloves; for two glasses of this sauce.

  If the platter is big, increase the wine and the puree. When the sauce is cooked, pass through a sieve into the casserole; pour the purée inside and season well. Add a little d’essence de jambon {ham or pork stock) and cook the whole mixture (?make a reduction?). Cut up the partridges (poultry or whatever) and keep hot. Prior to serving, if you prefer, add two or three oranges.

  il faut qu’il n’en reste qu’un (an idiom)

  -it is necessary that there remains only one about it:

  La Sausse d’Allemagne.

  Translation by author:

  Take a Pike (or any good fish) which you have prepared (i.e. cleaned, filleted), etc., cut in half and cook it in water, but not all the way. {Let it cook} until just turning white and put it in a casserole, with white wine, chopped capers. anchovies, thyme, fines herbes, and chopped mushrooms, also some truffles and morelles. Now boil gently taking care it does not break apart. Put in some good butter, blended well and a bit of parmesan, and make ready your platter, garnish as you wish.

  {N.B. The screen shot above is cut off, and the missing text is the bit about the platter and the garnish}

  Le Glacé

  Excerpted from: “The Picayune Creole Cookbook.” iBooks.

  Below is a cut & paste excerpted from the Times-Picayune Creole Cookbook (6th Edition, 1922) detailing the method for making Glacé - A HUGE AMOUNT of Glacé ! It is basically a aspic or beef jelly that is used as a base for other sauces, sort of like a cold can of consommé.

  6 Pounds Rump of Beef.

  5 Pounds of Bones.

  2 Calf's Feet.

  1 Large Herb Bouquet. 1 Stalk of Celery.

  3 Large Carrots.

  Salt and Pepper to Taste.

  Glacé is the foundation of all sauces for roasts, filets, etc. In other words, it is Liebig's Beef Extract, which every housekeeper may make and keep on hand for gravies for meats. It is made as follows: Roast five pounds of the rump of the beef. Take five or six pounds of bones of beef and two calf's feet. After roasting the beef well and brown, but rare, chop it in small pieces, and put in a pot with two gallons of water. Add to this the bones and calf's feet, all raw.

  Then add a large herb bouquet, and one stalk of celery and three shredded carrots. Let the whole come to a boil. As the scum rises, skim, and then season with salt and pepper to taste. Let all boil till reduced to one quart. Strain this, and it will make a jelly or glacé when cold. Do not add any flour or grease. The savvy Creole cook considers it little short of a crime to add flour to the gravies of roast or broiled beef. Use the glacé for thickening Sauce Espagnole.

  {Author’s Note}

  This foundational cookbook for Creole and Cajun cooking* also provides clear directions for the other Sauces Meres, which bring Massilot’s 17th Century recipes somewhat more up-to-date. Somewhere between the methods of Massilot and of those excerpted above from the early 20th century would be the styles created and refined by Frère Gerard and his contemporaries. The chief idea to take away from these ramblings on sauce is that the “sauce” remains foundational to most Creole cuisine. The simplicity of these methods and the availability of their basic ingredients to 18th Century New Orleans’ cooks are beyond question. In recreating these recipes and methods the modern Louisiana chef need only remember one major caveat: There is no evidence that Tomatoes were available to French colonial cooks in Louisiana !

  *The Picayune. The Picayune’s Creole Cook Book. New Orleans, LA: Picayune Job Print, 1901. (Reprint, Kansas City: Andre
ws McMeel Publishing, LLC, 2013. American Antiquarian Cookbook Collection.

  Sixteen

  MARKETS, MARSHES, & MEAT

  Another week, another market day. Today I was not going to the market alone. It was time to introduce my apprentice, Etienne, to the wild frontier town that was the outside world. New Orleans had seen goodly growth since the hurricane of 1722. Enough folk had finally arrived from the old country to make regular markets viable. Viable that is, but not very organized, the markets were scattered all over town. From the levee to the edge of the swamp at the back of town, and almost everywhere in between , one could find food and goods of a bewildering variety offered for a price. By far the safest, and I use the term loosely, was the market at the levee. But that was not our destination today. On virtually every street between the river and the cypress marshes, Natives, townsfolk, and even some slaves from the nearby farms and settlements wandered about calling all to purchase their goods. Again, Etienne and I were not looking here, for we were heading to the "black" market (pun intended) on the back, swampy, edge of town. I say black market for two reasons. During the last few years, the Company had shipped quite a few Africans to Louisiana, and unfortunately, their fate was not a happy one. Those who did not die in the passage over were doomed to become slaves. Once here, in addition to their regular servitude, slaves were "encouraged" to plant their own gardens to help feed themselves.

  They are also allowed to sell their surplus for their own or their masters' benefit. According to our law, slaves have Sundays free to learn about our Lord Jesus and to attend to their own affairs. It has now become their custom to gather at the open space in the rear of town to buy and sell, to congregate, and even to worship, in their somewhat heathen fashion.