Thu 24 Aug 2006
When the internet gets stale I like to pretend I’m old-school Cajun. To aid in my fantasy, I rely on Talk about Good: Le Livre de la Cuisine de Lafayette, a cookbook that Dr. G picked up at a garage sale back in the early days, in an edition that looks to be from the 70’s. He found a recipe in there that he liked so much, he copied it down and took it with him to Peace Corps, and it has followed us to every place we’ve lived. It’s called Plantation Cake, and it’s essentially a thick pool of dark molasses with sweetened biscuit dough floating on the top. I hate it. But of course on the days when I’m Cajun I re-read the recipe with relish. Even more fun is spot-checking a page for something interesting.
For example, the Poultry and Game section has recipes for “Doves in a Pot” and “Squirrel Sauce Piquante,” whose first listed ingredient is “17 squirrels, marinated.” The names of the contributors are interesting, too. We’ve got Mrs. Haskell Walker, Brigadier General Carl J. Dueser, Mrs. Walter B. Comeaux, Jr. The women kept their first names hidden and the men announce their credentials.
Then there’s the sheer metaphoric power of some of the recipe names. Cookies called “Mothballs” and “Oreilles de Cochon.” “Cloud-Top Cherry Pie.” “Sand Tarts.” “Feud Cake.” I’m a particular fan of “Tipsy Pudding,” which calls for two jiggers of hard liquor.
The texts of the recipes are sometimes puzzling and sometimes exquisitely satisfying. There are six recipes for the mundanely titled pecan pie (I, II, III, IV, peach-pecan, pecan-cream). “Prism Cake” is not cake at all, but a variety of jello flavors on a graham cracker crust. There is a note at the bottom of the recipe for Traditional Lebkuchen: “Cover tightly and store from 1 to 2 weeks to MELLOW. Excellent Holiday Cookie. Can be Baked one month ahead.” In the Mardi Gras mixed drink section, “Bowle a la Kumpa (A Festive German Wine Punch)” “Serves 4 lusty drinkers, or 8 bon vivants, or 16 ‘party drinkers.‘” Mrs. Charles Sanders calls her shrimp dip recipe “Courting Dip” because “This recipe was given to me during our courtship. It has proved to be a real favorite all these years.”
A dip titled “For Men Only” reminds us, “Don’t let the name fool you; women like this too!” And Mrs. William E. Wallace advises how to make a good roux: “Never make it too brown, because it must continue browning as other ingredients are added. The secret of good cooking lies in following implicitly the gradual introduction of the component parts in the order specified. There is an easier way!!!”
So excuse me, mes cheris, but I have to go read all about aspic.
August 24th, 2006 at 6:21 pm
Excuse me, but I think you’ve misrepresented Plantation Cake. You’ve described it in its uncooked state. The magic is in the cooking as it transforms into a chewy marbled cake. There’s no floating, and no liquid involved once it’s removed from the oven.
Before we were married, I tried the recipe for “Eggs in Hell.” Admittedly, they were hellish. In fact, I’ve had much more pleasure in the reading of this cookbook than in tasting the results of its recipes, plantation cake notwithstanding.
August 24th, 2006 at 8:38 pm
So what is the recipe for this plantation cake???
August 25th, 2006 at 1:49 am
Wow - it was crazy to open up your page and see a cookbook my mom had! I honestly don’t remember her making anything out of it, though. . . except maybe a recipe copied into the cover. I do remember reading recipes using rabbit, squirrel, and other meats which I think of as pets in her Louisiana cookbooks.
August 25th, 2006 at 1:38 pm
Lydia, it now occurs to me that you might actually be authentic Cajun. You’ve got the French name and the Lousiana origins. Are you?
Dr. G, what you call moist, I call slimy.
Marie, now that I’m actually looking for the recipe I can’t find it.
August 25th, 2006 at 2:25 pm
Mrs. William Wallace? Shouldn’t that be a Scottish recipe with some violent overtones of some sort?
August 27th, 2006 at 12:14 am
I had envisioned myself as cajun growing up, but my mom had to break it to me that we weren’t. However, some of my relatives have the surname Wildblood, which is maybe just as cool. . . i thought that meant we were Native American, but it turns out they were Brits.
December 10th, 2006 at 2:23 pm
Lydia,
Yes, Wildblood is cool. The only Lydia I have in my Louisiana family tree is Lydia Alexander Laurence, hope I spelled it right. That you.
Alan the German Wildblood in Berlin
February 16th, 2008 at 11:57 pm
OMG…I have this book! I’ve had it for 40 years. It was given to me by a real Louisiana cook.
Made my first gumbo from this book.
Many recipes in the book call for cream of mushroom soup and oleo margarine … ew.
Otherwise, it’s a great cookbook.
Bambi