Fish

Although I had never tasted it myself, I decided to try my hand at bouillabaisse after listening to my dad reminiscing for years about the one he’d had in Marseilles, in a café overlooking the bustling port. Eventually, after much research, I felt I knew what it should taste like, but I was still overwhelmed when I had my first bowl in Nice many years later—it was even more complex and deeply flavored than Dad’s memories had suggested. This is one dish where a paticularly flavorful version of Fish Fumet (p. 205) is essential. Because we don’t have the same fish as they do in France (such as rascasse, the bony fish that makes a true bouillabaisse), I use Gulf fish and shellfish in the stock. I put in a mix of flounder, snapper, and trout bones along with shrimp shells (and heads, if available), and a couple of gumbo crabs for good measure. Make enough so that you can freeze a batch for the next time you make this stew. My one concession: mussels. We don’t get them in the Gulf, but it’s just not bouillabaisse without ’em. Roasted Red Pepper Rouille (p. 184) and thin slices of toasted baguette are the essential condiments for this soup.

There is something particularly irresistible about food that’s wrapped up like a parcel in an edible casing—especially when there’s a little something inside that you’re not expecting. For me, the subtle, slightly briny flavor of grape leaves represents the best of the Mediterranean. In this dish, there’s an appealing exchange between the fish, grape leaves, and couscous that results in a moist, aromatic, and savory package enhanced by a tangy olive vinaigrette and roasted red pepper garnish. The feta cheese is a tasty addition and a pretty garnish, but it’s not necessary. When it comes to choosing fish, a thick, super-fresh fillet of mahi mahi, grouper, amberjack, or snapper would be ideal.

One of my first memories of New Orleans was gathering the pecans off the ground at the naval base where my father was stationed, then sitting around a table with my family at night, watching Adventures in Paradise and shelling the seemingly bottomless pile. We had nutpicks, silver utensils with curved sharp tips, for digging out the tiny pieces of shell trapped in the crevices of each nut meat—talk about tedious! But I was always proud to have the cleanest and choicest halves to offer up for my mom’s approval. I was surprised when I went to France to cook at the jazz festival in Nice and learned that I had to bring my own pecans to make pecan pie (the nuts are not indigenous there)! It followed, then, that I would use local nuts to create this New Orleans rendition of the more classic Trout Amandine.

One day while cooking a pot of red beans, I noticed that the juice had a beautiful, silky sheen. It occurred to me that the beans might make a good sauce if pureed really smoothly with their cooking liquid. An idea was born—really: that’s all it takes! I played around with seasonings and decided I liked the warm hint of cinnamon married with the spicy flavors of poblano and chipotle. Adding fresh lime juice at the end of the process brightens up the earthiness of the puree. The light coating of cornmeal gives the fish a nice crunch to contrast with the creamy sauce (which, incidentally, is wonderful with grilled fish of any kind—trout, redfish, or snapper are particularly good). A side of Green Rice (p. 309) is a perfect accompaniment.

“Fumet” is the French term for an aromatic broth (typically fish or vegetable, though it can also refer to a meat stock) that is simmered down to concentrate the flavors. Making your own fish stock is easier than you think and adds irreplaceable flavor to recipes, such as Gulf Coast Bouillabaisse (p. 220) and Southern Shrimp Stew (p. 228). Whatever you don’t use can be frozen in small plastic containers (for up to 2 months), so you can pull it out for quick seafood pasta, risotto, or poaching liquid for a fresh fillet.

This unusual pesto variation, adapted from a recipe by Colman Andrews in his book Flavors of the Riviera, cries out for grilled or roasted lamb, but you will discover many other ways to use it. In fact, it’s perfectly delicious on simple grilled bread with a glass of white wine or rosé.

Here’s a great way to use a small amount of smoked salmon to good advantage. Fresh herbs and lemon brighten the taste, and the cream cheese acts as a medium to carry the rich flavors. I love to serve this spread on toasted pumpernickel bread, atop tiny baked fingerling or new potatoes as an hors d’oueuvre, or as an open-faced sandwich with thin cucumber slices and watercress.

The fragrant, filling, dripping-with-oil muffuletta is New Orleans’s beloved version of a hero or hoagie. The sandwich originated at Central Grocery in 1906, and people still line up out the door to buy them there. In a traditional muffuletta, a sesame seed-speckled round loaf of crusty Italian bread is stuffed with slices of provolone, salami, mortadella, and a pungent olive salad (which ranks alongside hot sauce and beignet mix as the best souvenirs from the Quarter). A muffuletta is a cousin to one of the great street foods of Nice, the niçoise-salad-on-a-roll known as pan bagnat. The sandwich, which literally translates as “bathed bread,” is so named because the crusty bread is “bathed” in the rich oils from olives and tuna. With this preparation in mind, I created a tuna-driven version of the classic New Orleans sandwich. I think it’s a happy combination.

Caesar salads may be ubiquitous on menus of all stripes, but a truly memorable one can be hard to find. Our version is unique because it pairs the usual romaine with arugula, which adds a peppery bite. I omit the anchovies from the dressing in favor of tossing them with the salad because I like the texture and the intense bites of salty flavor. Feel free to make this salad more substantial (and savory) with the addition of grilled chicken, shrimp, or even fried oysters. Adding a raw egg yolk to the dressing is optional, but it will create a richer, more stable body.

Fusion cuisine gets scoffed at a lot, but it can work beautifully, as this dish, with its Latin and Asian influences, attests. From the marriage of avocado, cucumber, limes, chiles, garlic, and cilantro (known as coriander everywhere else but the Americas), Peppered Tuna with Asian Guacamole was born. The cucumber lightens up the avocado and adds a bit of crunch. Hoisin Dipping Sauce rounds out the peppery warmth with sweet spiciness. Serve four plates as a first course, or top Sesame Wonton Crisps (p. 89) with a slice of the tuna and a dollop of the guacamole and serve on a platter to make an elegant party snack.

Here’s one I stole from my friend, mentor, and sometimes tormentor from Louis XVI Restaurant, Daniel Bonnot. He taught me how to make these about twenty-five years ago. Beignet is essentially just a fancy French word for a fritter. In New Orleans, people have been known to subsist on beignets and coffee alone. This is not advisable. Feel free to substitute chopped crayfish tails for the smoked salmon—both versions are dangerously addictive.

Flan is essentially custard—the creamy melding of milk and eggs in what has proved to be a delectable revelation: you can make a savory flan out of virtually any vegetable. We do several savory flans at my restaurants, including mushroom and carrot, but its delicate flavor and pale green color makes asparagus flan my hands-down favorite. A potato salad made with smoked salmon (which is great on its own for lunch or brunch) is a stylish partner, but you can easily serve this flan with toasted slices of French bread and Grana Padano (or your favorite cheese) and a simple green salad with tomatoes.

This main course needs no accompaniment other than a tossed green salad. Try the Mixed Green Salad with Citrus Dressing on page 54.

Lemon slices help keep the fish fillets moist during cooking. For a simple sauce, we combined lemon juice, white wine, and butter.

Sautéed Bok Choy and Broccoli (page 249) and a big bowl of white rice are all you need to accompany these tasty—and remarkably easy—fish steaks.

The three main ingredients in this recipe—pecans, cornmeal, and catfish—are all common in Southern cooking. The carrot slaw served on the side is lighter in fat and calories than more traditional mayonnaise-based slaws.

Here’s our do-it-yourself take on the popular restaurant sandwich originally from New Orleans. Almost any type of coleslaw (see recipes on pages 35, 83, 171, and 232) would work as an accompaniment.

The cooking time for lentils can vary widely depending on their age, as older lentils require more time. For the best results, buy a fresh, new bag. A mustard vinaigrette boosts the flavor of this Mediterranean-inspired dish.

The creamy red-cabbage slaw can also be served on sandwiches or as a side dish. For a toasted flavor, quickly heat the tortillas over a gas burner until blistered in spots, holding each with tongs and waving it from side to side.