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BRENNAN’S

Brennan’s Restaurant brought this old Creole dish to prominence when they dusted off the recipe, ladled it over vanilla ice cream and named it after a favored customer. The restaurant overlooks a classic Creole courtyard entered through the original carriageway. When flaming a dish, extreme caution must be taken and a fire extinguisher must be nearby.

Serves 6

6 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
6 tablespoons (3 ounces, 3/4 stick) unsalted butter
3 cups light brown sugar
6 whole bananas, peeled, halved lengthwise and then cut into quarters
1/3 cup dark rum (Myers or Captain Morgan)
1/4 cup Creme De Banana (banana liqueur)
6 scoops vanilla ice cream, slightly softened
2 long, fireplace matches
In a small bowl, combine the cinnamon and sugar, mix thoroughly and set aside.

In a flambé pan or a chafing dish, combine the butter and brown sugar. Mash together, then place the pan over medium heat and stir with a wooden spoon until the sugar melts and the mixture caramelizes to a creamy rich brown color. It will require 5 minutes do it thoroughly.


Add the banana pieces to the pan, cut sides down and cook for about 1 minute. Place the rum in a large ladle and ignite with a long match. Drizzle the flaming rum into the pan.

Scatter the cinnamon-sugar mixture directly over the flame. As the flame dies out, pour the banana liqueur into the ladle and ignite with a long match. Drizzle the flaming banana liqueur into the pan and stir gently to combine all the ingredients. The flames will quickly die down.

Immediately place one scoop of ice cream in each of six saucer-style champagne glasses. Spoon over some of the banana mixture and plenty of the pan juices and serve immediately.

Floating Island seemed to be a thing of our past until we rediscovered it at Crozier’s, another New Orleans restaurant memory that happily lingers on many taste buds. Chef Gerard Crozier, a native of Lyon, brought Eveline, his wife, culinary sensibilities and a Floating Island recipe from France. Friday evenings at Crozier’s were especially delightful and the only time just a few servings of his Floating Island were offered. Connoisseurs were careful to keep this treat to themselves, often calling ahead and reserving their portions.

In a perfectly clean bowl, beat the egg whites with an electric mixer slowly at first, gradually adding 1/4 cup of sugar then continue to beat at high speed until very stiff peaks form.

Scald the milk, adding 1/4 cup of sugar and vanilla and stir until the sugar has dissolved

Drop large tablespoon-sized dollops of the beaten egg white/sugar mixture onto the surface of the milk, poaching the egg whites for 4 to 5 minutes, turning once. These will be the islands. Remove them from the milk carefully with a slotted spoon and set aside on a platter. Reserve the milk.

Beat the egg yolks in a bowl with 1/2 cup of sugar and add the hot milk, stirring vigorously. Cool and strain. Set aside.

Make a caramel sauce by boiling the last 3/4 cup of sugar and 1/2 cup of water for about XXX minutes to a syrup consistancy.

To serve, pour equal amounts of the remaining milk mixture into four shallow bowls. Carefully slip islands to float atop each. Drizzle caramel sauce in swirls across top. Add seasonal berries and fresh mint as a garnish.

Variation: Rather than a caramel drizzle, puree some of the fruit garnish creating a coulee, and drizzle with that color instead.

sidebar Floating Island is reminiscent of certain times when temperature and atmospheric conditions are in alignment and a fog layer drifts on the surface of the Mississippi River. Above the great puffs and curls, clear sky and the riverbank’s crescent reveal themselves in vivid colors. Dockside, a paddle wheeler with calliope singing waits to churn into the river. It’s an old-fashioned dessert, a serving of pure bliss. It came to Louisiana via France, traveling the same route across the ocean as so many of our great dishes. My husband’s family cook was Anna Bolan, who joined them shortly before Billy arrived. She possessed an astonishing memory. Once a recipe was discussed, no matter how complex, she prepared it flawlessly. Then, she would add her refinements, always improving and making the recipe her own. Before retiring, she allowed me to spend hours assisting–more watching rather than being of any real help–as she cooked. Floating Island was a family favorite and prepared whenever Anna felt that the occasion required a festive dessert.

A New Orleans’ version of almond lace cookies, these will make your taste buds sing and dance. Immediately following removal from the oven they may quickly be shaped into fluted dessert cups by gently pressing over an small upturned bowl, as cones for ice cream or sorbets, smoothed over a glass to form a pretty curve or tightly rolled in pencil shapes to dress a dessert. Certainly, they may be served flat. Once they have cooled, they are brittle, so handle with care.

If using a baking sheet more than once, simply wipe off the excess butter with a paper towel. Be sure to let the tray cool before dropping the next batch of batter.

Yield: About 1 dozen cones

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons finely chopped pecans
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 ounces (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1/4 cup packed.dark light sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup

Preheat oven to 350°F.

In a small bowl, combine the pecans and flour. Using a small saucepan, combine the butter, sugar, and corn syrup. Bring to a boil. Remove from heat and stir the dry ingredients into the pan. Transfer the batter to a bowl and stir occasionally until it thickens into a dough and is cool enough to handle, about 30 minutes.

With moistened hands, roll the dough into various size balls, depending on whether you're making cookies, cups, or coronets. Place on ungreased baking sheets, 3 to 7 inches apart, depending on size-they spread quite a bit. Bake about 32 minutes, or until the active bubbling subsides. Place the baking sheet on a rack and let cool until the cookies are firm enough to lift with a flexible metal spatula but are still malleable, 3 to 5 minutes. Working quickly, mold each into shape and set on a wire rack to cool completely. If the cookies get too cool and brittle to mold, put the tray back in the oven for a minute to soften.

Marcelle Bienvenu's

Yield: approximately 1 dozen pastries

1-cup all-purpose flour
1/4-teaspoon salt
About ½ cup water
Vegetable oil for frying
One 12-ounce can Steen’s cane syrup
½ cup finely chopped pecans cup chopped pecans

Combine flour and salt. Stir in enough water to make stiff dough. Divide dough into 12 equal parts and roll each into a ball. Roll out the balls of dough very thin on a lightly floured surface. Pour about 2 inches of oil into a heavy, deep-frying pot. Heat the oil to 350 F.

Drop the one of the pastries into hot oil and using a long handled fork, stick the tines of the fork into the center of the pastry and twist quickly. Hold fork in place until dough sets and holds the shape. This will give the appearance of a pig’s ear. Cook until golden brown and drain well on paper towels. Repeat procedure with remaining pastry.

Bring syrup to a boil in a heavy saucepan and stir until it reaches the soft ball stage

Dip each pig’s ear into the syrup, coating well. Sprinkle with chopped pecans and lay on waxed paper. Serve warm or at room temperature. Store only one or two days, separated and tightly sealed.

Head note

Pig’s Ears are a Cajun country treat, an example of purely making do with what is on hand and turning it into something remarkable. Add a sprinkle of chopped pecans once they have been dipped in cane syrup, so they are both sweet and crunchy at the same time. Marcelle says that literally translated les oreilles de cochon means “the pig’s ears.”

LES OREILLES DE COCHON
Pig Ear-Shaped Pastry

Yield: approximately 1 dozen pastries

1-cup all-purpose flour
1/4-teaspoon salt
About ½ cup water
Vegetable oil for frying
One 12-ounce can Steen’s cane syrup
½ cup finely chopped pecans cup chopped pecans

Combine flour and salt. Stir in enough water to make stiff dough. Divide dough into 12 equal parts and roll each into a ball. Roll out the balls of dough very thin on a lightly floured surface. Pour about 2 inches of oil into a heavy, deep-frying pot. Heat the oil to 350 F.

Drop the one of the pastries into hot oil and using a long handled fork, stick the tines of the fork into the center of the pastry and twist quickly. Hold fork in place until dough sets and holds the shape. This will give the appearance of a pig’s ear. Cook until golden brown and drain well on paper towels. Repeat procedure with remaining pastry.

Bring syrup to a boil in a heavy saucepan and stir until it reaches the soft ball stage

Dip each pig’s ear into the syrup, coating well. Sprinkle with chopped pecans and lay on waxed paper. Serve warm or at room temperature. Store only one or two days, separated and tightly wrapped.

Head note

Pig’s Ears are a Cajun country treat, an example of purely making do with what you have on hand. A add a sprinkle of chopped pecans once they have been dipped in cane syrup, so they are both sweet and crunchy at the same time. Marcelle says that literally translated les oreilles de cochon means “the pig’s ears.”

Sidebar

Marcelle Bienvenu has done it all in the culinary world. Born and raised in St. Martinville, La, she has worked with Commander’s Palace, K-Paul’s Louisiana Kitchen in New Orleans and Brennan’s of Houston. From 1981-1984, she owned and operated her own restaurant, Chez Marcelle near Lafayette, La., then used her food knowledge for writing about what she’d been eating. Her resulting “WHO’S YOUR MAMA, ARE YOU CATHOLIC AND CAN YOU MAKE A ROUX” is a Cajun/Creole family album and cookbook from the bayou country. She co-authored, with Emeril Lagasse, LOUISIANA REAL & RUSTIC, EMERIL’S CREOLE CHRISTMAS, EMERIL’S TV DINNERS and EVERDAY’S A PARTY. She also contributed to EMERIL PRIMETIME, FROM EMERIL’S KITCHENS, EMERIL’S POTLUCK, AND EMERIL’S DELMONICO: A RESTAURANT WITH A PAST.
She edited the 1987 edition of the THE PICAYUNE’S CREOLE COOK BOOK, originally published in 1901 and reissued to celebrate the newspaper’s 150th anniversary and also writes a weekly column for them. Marcelle’s home is a fine place to pass a good time around the kitchen table. There’s not much better than a good meal, laughter and a rollicking good time in Acadiana.

Densely chocolate, Warren’s pate is a forerunner to the now famous flourless chocolate cake. Both Commander’s Palace and Arnaud’s, among other restaurants, have their own versions and chocolate lovers rejoice. He delighted in keeping secret a few ingredients from recipes he happily handed out. Only minor sins of omission. Sadly he never published a major cookbook, only two small pamphlets, one to celebrate his restaurant’s 20th anniversary and the other named Front Door, Back Door. This recipe is from the former.

Yield: Eight servings

1-8” cake pan, the bottom lined with a circle of parchment cut to fit
12 eggs (separate yolks from whites)
12 oz. unsalted sweet butter
12 oz. sweet dark chocolate
1 tbs. LeRuth’s Vanilla Bean Marinade

Melt chocolate. Beat egg yolks and fold into the chocolate. Then fold in melted butter. Whip whites until they are stiff and fold carefully into mixture. Pour into cake pan and cover.

Chill overnight.
Slice into small pie-shaped wedges.
Garnish with fruit couli or fresh fruit.

To create a light chocolate mousse, simply fold in 8 stiffly beaten eggs.

Serve topped with whipped cream or place a slice in a puddle of crème anglaise.

New Orleans as a city for fine dining beyond Creole cuisine came to national attention in 1965 when the late Chef Warren LeRuth renovated a Victorian shotgun cottage across the Mississippi River in old Gretna and shook our culinary world.

Irascible and exacting, Warren was not only creative but also a fearlessly innovative chef. In food circles he was the Renaissance man. Rather than expand along it with his restaurant’s popularity he removed tables.

Generous with his time and talent, he developed many dishes for other restaurateurs, which remain on their menus. Fond memories from the many chefs he mentored, former guests and friends keep his presence as vibrant as his food.

As a research chef, Warren developed many products including a special vanilla bean marinade, which continues to be the creme de la creme of flavorings. It is available at www.jfolse.com, and well worth the effort.

Linda Jane’s
Meringue Kisses

Meringue kisses are bite-sized clouds that dissolve on the tongue, and just one kiss is never enough. To form the kiss, two pieces of a baked meringue-like candy are married together, using flavored butter-cream icing. Mocha-flavored chocolate is exquisite, vanilla subtle, and lemon or lime sweetly tart. Your imagination will lead you down the correct path.

Meringue was a traditional winter treat in New Orleans, where hot humid summers prevented the dessert from setting up properly; however, with the advent of air-conditioning, it is now made and enjoyed all year long.


Linda Ellerbee is an honorary Orleanian, who lived in a Pontalba apartment with a friendly ghost while she wrote her best seller And So It Goes.

She returns often to wander through the French Quarter, explore restaurants and dine with friends. Cooking is one of her great pleasures, exceeded only by the appreciation of a fine meal prepared by someone else.

She got this recipe from Mary Brunner, a caterer in Llanidloes, Wales, who prepared it for the rehearsal dinner preceding her son’s wedding there. It was a three-day spectacular that began with a candle accidentally setting fire to the bride’s hair the night before the wedding, and it concluded with a fireworks show staged over the rolling hills of Wales the night of the wedding.

As an Orleanian habit, we adopt recipes from other countries and adapt them to our tastes. This one was readily embraced and continues to be a favorite. Linda published her version in another best seller, Take Big Bites: Adventures Around the World and Across the Table, and of course, we have modified it for our own purposes.