Weekly Dish

The first time my husband saw me eat a raw oyster, I wasn’t sure if our relationship would make it. I have treasured these sea-dwelling delicacies for as long as I can remember. But David? Not so keen on the texture. And, he cringed every time I slid one off of a cracker into my mouth. But oysters are supposed to be so romantic, I said, the ultimate love food. How could we be in love and not enjoy oysters together?

Thankfully, David bravely overcame his oyster-phobia and even enjoys them raw (or so he says) these days. But one of his favorite ways that I fix them is this way: baked under a layer of bread crumbs, butter, and blue cheese.

Because I love them so, we often have oysters on various special occasions. It just so happens that I made these about a month ago, in celebration five years of marriage to the man who has learned to endure many quirky things about me, including my passion for these slippery little mollusks. For that alone, I love him so.

This recipe is adapted from Blue Cheese Oysters in (fittingly enough) Martha Hopkins’ and Randall Lockridge’s aphrodesiac cookbook, Intercourses.

Blue Cheese Oyster Gratin

2 dozen oysters (I buy them already shucked, packed in liquid from my fish market)
4 ounces blue cheese, crumbled
1/2 cup bread crumbs
3 T. butter, softened
Sliced bread (I used sourdough)
2 large cloves garlic, halved

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees; spray a square baking dish with cooking spray. In a small bowl, combine the butter, bread crumbs, and blue cheese. Lay the oysters in a single layer in the bottom of the baking dish. Top evenly with the blue cheese mixture. Bake for about 12-15 minutes, until the bread crumbs are browned and the cheese is soft and melted. Toast the bread slices while the oysters are baking. Rub each side with the cut side of a garlic clove; serve the oyster gratin with the toast.

I served a simple salad on the side: raddicchio, baby lettuce, carrot, halved grapes, and blue cheese crumbles, under a sherry mustard vinaigrette (for which I promise to post a recipe soon; I always forget to measure quantities when I make it!)

To celebrate our Mardi Gras vacation from school (we’re off until Thursday!), I decided I should make a meal using the rich culinary heritage of southern Louisiana. Crawfish season is well underway here–they usually become widely available in January–so they seemed an obvious choice. Having already learned how to make the more traditional etouffee, I wanted to try something a little different.

When I worked at the Brick-Oven Cafe in Jackson, we served a crawfish pasta dish that was one of our most popular. The sauce was laden with cream, butter, and cheese, and I didn’t want anything quite that heavy, but the distinct Louisiana flavoring, I remembered, came from the combination of the crawfish and the Cajun-spiced ham called tasso.

After finding tasso in the deli at my neighborhood grocery store, David and I set out for the famous fish market here in town, Tony’s. This was our first trip there, and it was quite an experience. We entered a loud, concrete-floored room and met a tank of fresh lobsters on our left and catfish swimming in water-filled troughs on our right. On the back wall are two counters–on the left side you can buy already-prepared dishes like crawfish pie and jambalaya, and on the right, you buy crawfish, shrimp, and other fresh fish. I wanted to buy the crawfish live, so that we could boil them ourselves, but only the already-boiled ones were available.

To make the pasta, I peeled the crawfish, tossing the heads and tail shells into a large stockpot, and the tail meat into a separate bowl. I boiled the shells with a lemon and salt to make stock, and then gathered the other ingredients to make the sauce.

Two tricks make this dish full of flavor: the first is that you cook the tasso in a little olive oil in the pot you are going to use for the roux. The ham gives off its spicy flavor and provides a little bit of fat so you don’t have to use so much butter. The second trick is to boil the pasta in equal parts water and crawfish stock. The stock is rich with the spice from the crawfish shells and imparts that flavor to the noodles.

The results were delicious, if I do say so myself. The ridges in the rigatoni provided the perfect place for the sauce to stick, and the consistency of the sauce worked well to evenly coat the crawfish, ham, and noodles. Add a piece of crusty bread and a glass of dry white wine. . .and we had ourselves a very happy Monday-before-Mardi Gras indeed.

Cajun Crawfish Pasta

3 pounds crawfish, cooked
1 lemon
1 pound rigatoni
1 t. olive oil
1/2 pound tasso
2 T. butter
1 T. olive oil
1/4 cup flour
1 yellow onion
3/4 cup chopped tomatoes
1 T. Kosher salt
2 cups stock

For the stock: Shell the crawfish, piling the heads and shells into a large stockpot. (Reserve the tail meat). Add a quartered lemon and a palmful of salt and cover with water. Bring to a rolling boil, reduce the heat, and simmer for at least 20 or 30 minutes (the longer you simmer, the more flavorful the stock will be). Strain off the liquid and discard the solids.

Cook the pasta in equal parts stock and water (I used 2 cups of each for a pound of rigatoni). Drain when al dente and set aside.

Heat a teaspoon of olive oil in a large pot or skillet over medium (I used the same pot I cooked the noodles in). Add the ham and cook, stirring until the pieces are a golden brown, about 10 minutes. Remove the ham, but reserve the fat. Add 1 tablespoon of olive oil and 2 tablespoons of butter. When the butter has melted, stir in the flour. Cook over medium-low, stirring, until the roux turns a light brown. This step took me about 10 minutes. Add the chopped onion and stir to coat with the roux. Cook over medium until very soft, 15-18 minutes. Add the chopped tomatoes and cook for another couple of minutes. Season with salt.

Stir in 2 cups of stock and cook, stirring, until smooth. Stir in the crawfish tails, the ham, and the pasta. (Note: If you want the pasta to be saucier, you can always add more stock; I wanted a thick consistency that would coat the noodles and meats rather than a thin sauce.) Cook for about a minute until everything is nicely blended and warmed through. Serve immediately.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody! Here’s a picture of the Thanksgiving chicken that David prepared for our own little holiday meal last night (there he is below getting it ready). Today, I am especially thankful to be married to such a sweet, talented husband. We’re off to visit family for the day, but we wish you and yours a safe and blessed holiday!

If you’re still looking for the perfect dessert to take to Thanksgiving dinner, I highly recommend this one. Especially if you have cooked sweet potatoes on hand, this pie is easy to make, and wow, is it good. This recipe belonged to my great-grandmother, and my mom has taken on the task of making it every Christmas. As soon as the weather turned cool, (and I began buying and cooking sweet potatoes like a mad woman) I craved this pie.

My affection for this particular recipe has much to do with my memory, I know; it’s been several years since my great-grandmother was here to share the holiday with us. But also, I think this pie does what all of my favorite recipes do: it relies on the simplicity of the ingredients. The sweet potato flavor is highlighted by the orange zest, and those are really the only flavors you taste. The evaporated milk or cream imparts a fluffiness to the potatoes that enhances their own texture. My mom serves it with a dollop of slightly sweetened cream and freshly grated nutmeg, and I like it warm or cold. Really, as far as pies go, this one for me is hard to beat.

NANNY’S SWEET POTATO PIE

Nanny is famous for writing down cryptic recipes. I’m going to type it up exactly as my mom recited it to me over the phone, and then I’ll explain what I actually did when I made the pie. Her instructions:

1-2 potatoes

1 can Carnation

2 eggs

Grated orange rind

Vanilla

Salt

3/4 cup sugar

Whip the potatoes, Carnation, and eggs; then add sugar. Add vanilla and salt. Bake 15 min. at 375, 30 minutes at 350.

What I did:

Bake a pie shell for 10 minutes at 425; remove from oven and reduce the temperature to 375 degrees. I used 2 small potatoes (about 2 cups of cooked, mashed potato) and 1 cup of whipping cream instead of Carnation (because I couldn’t figure out whether she meant sweetened condensed or evaporated milk. Mom says evaporated, but the cream worked fine too). Whip the potatoes, cream, and eggs together in the mixer. Then, add the sugar, the grated rind of 1 orange, 1/2 t. of vanilla, and 1/4 t. salt. Whip for a couple of minutes. The mixture should be very light and fluffy. Pour the filling into the slightly baked pie crust, and return to the oven. Bake for 15 minutes; then reduce the temperature to 350 and bake for 30 minutes more. The pie should be set so that it jiggles only slightly in the center when you shake it. (It will firm up as it cools, but I can never wait, so my pieces are always falling apart a little bit.)  Serve as you wish, hot or cold, with whipped cream and nutmeg, or just some grated orange rind on top, with coffee, tea, or a tall glass of milk. I’m telling you, you really can’t go wrong.