A Memo

Memo
To: Self
Subject: Never visit an interesting site with little time available. At best, you will see a few intriguing sights, then kick yourself for not allowing more time to study these discoveries and search for more; at worst, you will not know what you missed and, thus, will have no reason to return to discover a if-only-you-had-asked-more-questions-when-you-received-the-recommendation place.

Either way, you lose out on some interesting finds.

Case in Point: In the course of our con-versations with Allen and Winnie (see yesterday's entry), they encouraged us to visit historic Grand Coteau, LA.

"Just take I-49 north toward Opelousas and take the exit toward Grand Coteau on LA 93. This highway goes right through town. Then take the street behind the main street to see a lot of the historic buildings." They also recom-mended that we see the Jesuit Spirituality Center, the Academy of the Sacred Heart, and the street lined wtih live oaks.

Well, a couple of days later, we followed these directions to the businesses (photos above) along Martin Luther King, Jr Drive, Grand Coteau's main street.

We passed Casa Azul (photo 2) with gifts from around the world, studied the antiques on the porch of St. Romaine's Petite Rouge (photo 3), missed breakfast at the Creola Cafe (photo above), and approached the door of our destination, the Kitchen Shop.

But the door was locked, an hour after it was scheduled to open. So, we missed out on Gateau NaNa and café-au-lait, the specialty of the Shop's pastry chef.

We then turned onto Chatrian Street and came upon some of the 70+ properties of archi-tectural or historic significance in the Grand Coteau National Historic District.

From zydecocajunbyway.com: "Grand Coteau is a town situated on what was, some two thousand years ago, the west bank of the Mississippi, not far from where it flows into the Gulf. It is called Grand Coteau, from its situation on a sloping ridge or 'coteau'--not a lofty ridge, but a long one.

"The Grand Coteau Historic District is one of the few primarily rural districts on the National Register of Historic Places."

Walking down Chatrian Street--literally, there were no sidewalks--we were presented with a number of buildings and homes that date to the 1840's and 1850's.

I was able to identify only a couple of the buildings. This is the Sanvald House (c. 1850), built by Theophile Sanvald, a shoemaker and now a private residence.

The Brinkhaus Store (c. 1880) was originally a millinery store and cobbler shop; it is now vacant.

Although we did not see any people around the homes, several appeared well-maintained and welcoming.

The steps or stairway on the front porch of this Acadian cottage leads up to the gar-çonniere, the second floor where the boys slept.

One of the shops on the edge of town had this interesting sign still gracing an exterior wall. On the store's porch were some interesting displays of merchan-dise.

It was unfortunate that we did not see more than half a dozen people on the streets and in the shops. This is too interesting a town not be visited more frequently by more people.

To be continued.

The First Thing You Must Do…

when entering Hub City Diner in Lafayette is take a moment to pay homage to Pelvis, the four-foot tall fiberglass statue just inside the front doors.

Pelvis is one of the “Pelicans on Parade” that have been “nested” throughout Lafayette as a “joint venture between the Acadiana Arts Council and the Lafayette Parish School System. Originally, the pelican sculpture was created to serve as the mascot for an artist-in-residence program known as Primary Academic and Creative Experiences (PACE)” (pelicansonparade.org).

“Hub City has many regulars that come at least once a week and many every day: from folks who work at Lafayette General Hospital across the street to telephone linemen, doctors, attorneys and families. Visitors from outside the area get a real sense of what life is like in the Hub City, a term locals use to refer to the city of Lafayette. In the Diner, you'll find friends shaking hands and sharing food while raising a glass to celebrate the Cajun way of life because after all, ‘Everybody should have boudin for breakfast and beer on Sundays.’

"…(T)he colorful 1950s theme, complete with neon lights and a checkered floor, rounds out the laissez faire feel where employees are given only three rules: don’t steal, show up for work, and be nice. The latter is prevalent and the food is just as playful: order the fried pickles for a delicious treat” (lafayette travel.com). The diner was one of the stops in Rand McNally’s “Best of the Road” competition that sought to find the best small towns in the U.S. Lafayette took the top honor for the “Best in Food” category.

So we took a seat in one of the colorful vinyl booths, and I positioned Kitty Humbug for a photo shoot with Marilyn. This drew a smile from the woman in the booth behind us and soon we were engaged in a conversation with Allen Bacquè and Winnie Darphin-Bacquè (below). And before we knew it, the four of us were sharing a booth, and Allen and Winnie were giving us suggestions of places to see.

Residents of Lafayette are some of the friendliest people we have met on our almost four years of travel and are a main reason we return again and again.

Lunch that day took second place to conversation. After a brief scan of the menu, I chose one of the “Louisiana Delight” options—grilled and seasoned shrimp atop tri-color corkscrew pasta with grilled mush-rooms, tomatoes, green peppers, and onions. As always, the large shrimp were flawlessly prepared. One minute more on the grill and they would have been overcooked and one minute less they would have been undercooked. The dish, though, could have used some form of dressing on the pasta. There was not enough moisture from the veggies to create any type of sauce.

Surprising me yet again, Chuck passed up “Mom’s Meatloaf” and the chicken fried steak and ordered the Spicy Garden Burger. The spicy black bean patty was served on a wheat bun and came with a side of red beans and brown rice. I would have liked more of a crust on the black bean patty, but I certainly can’t fault how well it was seasoned. Chuck’s renewed interest in black bean burgers has taken me to the internet to scour for recipes, and I found one that contains the magic words: “these freeze well.”

A few days later we returned, this time for breakfast. I failed to mention that, in addition to the regular menu, Hub City also offers a daily plate lunch—or blue plate special. What are they serving today? Is it a choice between chicken or spaghetti? Or is it chicken spaghetti? Given that baked chicken was the plate lunch two days earlier, I suspect that any remaining chicken was being used. Our Thrifty German Mothers would approve.

I have been craving biscuits and gravy and, while knowing that Hub City’s version would not be my favorite, made this my selection. Their rendering was one that we have frequently encountered—rather than mixing crumbled sausage throughout the white gravy, the biscuits are topped with sausage patties and served with plain gravy. The gravy itself was delicious, and I suspect may have contained white American cheese (a style of gravy I have had before in the Lafayette area), but it would have truly spectacular gravy had it contained flavor from bits of meat. I chose a side of grits over potatoes which I enhanced with butter—lots and lots of butter—and Cajun/Creole seasoning.

This time Chuck couldn’t resist the lure of chicken fried steak that came with three eggs (scram-bled), home fries, and a biscuit. His steak was covered with the same rich gravy as were my sausage biscuits and the meat was juicy and gristle-free.

His home fries—and virtually every restaurant has its own version—came as large chunks of potato that were deep fat fried. I thought I detected bacon fat and asked the server if they had been cooked in this fat.
“No,” she replied.
“They take the fried potatoes and put them on the grill with onions and peppers.” I still suspect that there was as unauthorized rendezvous between potatoes and bacon while on the grill.

Hub City Diner doesn’t stretch any culinary boundries but still serves good 4.0 Addie food. And, as lafayette travel.com said, “…you'll find friends shaking hands and sharing food”—even when two hours earlier they were complete strangers.

Never Too Old

For an old-timer who has dreamed of playing the Cajun accordion, this sign at Mouton Accordions north of Crowley, LA, was an encouraging pronouncement.

Seeing and listening to Errol Verret of “The Basin Brothers” in 1985 at Mulate’s in New Orleans was the origin of this dream, and, more recently, attending jams featuring August Broussard and Sheryl Cormier, served to fan this desire.

But it was a conversation with Greg Mouton that led to the first step toward the realization of this dream.

Our first visit occurred on Greg and Theresa’s anniversary, and they were preparing to leave for a family celebration. We only had time to look at the fiddles, guitars, drums, a number of music-related items--and get a recom-mendation for lunch.

Our second stop found them busy, but with time to talk about accordions, Cajun musicians, traveling, and more restaurant recommendations.

Greg listened to my questions about the availability of sheet music for Cajun songs (there is very little), how people learn to play so many different songs, and the difference between the virtuoso and the "back porch player" of the accordion.

As Greg talked, his love of teaching, his understanding of how students learn, and his pride of the Cajun culture and music were readily apparent.

But it was his skill at building accordions that had brought us to his shop. On one workbench were four instruments that he was repairing; on the shelf was one of his custom-made accordions that he brought down to show us (see photo #3 above).

On another shelf were some old instruments from Germany. While talking about the German-made accordions, Greg proudly stated that the step-father of one of his uncles (I think that was the relationship) was finally recognized by the Cajun French Music Association as the person who wrote "Jolie Blonde," often referred to as the Cajun national anthem.

His workbench had strips of rosewood used on the body of the accordion. He makes just about all of materials--the wires, buttons, leather straps and countless other parts that make up the instrument. Only the bellows and reeds are imported from Italy.

The strip of inlay in the front panel and the veneer panel show the detail and decorative work on this accordion.

The main part of the accordion--the reeds--are shown in the portion at the top of the photo.

And yes, in a few days, when the repairs are completed on a beginner's accordion, I will begin the learning process on my own squeezebox.

If We’re in New Iberia…

does that mean lunch at Bon Creole Lunch Counter, the home of our favorite poor boy? Usually the answer to that question would be “yes”. But how often can I write about the same crawfish poor boy—no matter how good it is? So it was time to find something new, and what we found was Clementine’s, located along New Iberia’s historic Main Street.

“The spirit of Clementine Hunter lives on in the antique bar and charming restaurant that was named after her in New Iberia 10 years ago. Clemen-tine’s…is a fine dining establish-ment where a combina-tion of Cajun, Creole, and French-inspired dishes are served with New Orleans flair…. Owner Wayne Peltier named the restaurant after his favorite artist, a folk legend who is often referred to as the
‘black Grandma Moses’” (Lisa LeBlanc-Berry at ourhouse.biz). “We have incor-porated Clemen-tine’s famous backwards—C & H insignia into our logo and the placement of our silverware. As the story goes, Clementine thought the normal C was rude, with its back to you, so she signed her C backwards with its arms reaching out to hug you” (clementinedowntown.com).

You enter Clemen-tine’s through a large bar and dining area with one wall dominated by a massive wood bar. The bar was built in the late 1800’s and installed in a bar in Loreauville, LA, which is ten miles (as the crow flies) from New Iberia. Sometime in the early 1900’s it was moved via barge from Loreauville to New Iberia when the space now occupied by Clemen-tine’s was a “gentle-men’s club” that included, among other attractions, a gaming room in the back.

You walk through the bar to reach the main dining room which is divided into two distinct areas. The back area (left) with its suitable for dancing vinyl tiled floor and small band stand is used as a music venue.

The main dining room combines the best of warmth and formality. Even at noon the tables are coved with white linens—quite a change from the “joints” at which we usually eat. The gold rough-plastered walls provide a warm background for changing displays of works by local artists.

The featured artist on our visit was Chestee Harrington who “...grew up in New Iberia, Louisiana, along the beautiful and historic Bayou Teche.... The artist’s formative years were spent in an almost storybook setting. ‘I grew up on Rose Hill, along the Old Spanish Trail,’ says Chestee. Her familly home, situated along a route used for centuries to drive cattle cross country and located near the site where Spanish colonists founded New Iberia, retained a unique quality.... Although primarily self-taught, Chestee has studied at the Art Students League in New York City, the Shidoni Foundry in Teseque, New Mexico, and the Woodstock School of Art in New York” (chestee.com).

I was particularly taken with the piece hanging by our table—J’Etais au Bal (I went to the dance) which depicts a young Cajun girl attending a fais do-do (right). “A fais do-do (FAY-DOE-DOE) means to ‘go to sleep’ or ‘sleep.’ But, in reality, it's like a Cajun hoedown, a country dance. Because there were few public dance halls, families often gathered on Saturdays, bringing all the children, even very young babies, to enjoy eating as well as dancing. The music, sometimes referred to by the locals as ‘chanky-chank,’ was provided by an accordion, a fiddle, and a ‘ting-a-ling,’ or triangle. The favored dance of the Cajuns is called a two-step and is akin to a waltz, but livened up with little jig steps (inmamaskitchen.com).

These works provide the illustrations for L’Esprit de la Louisiane: Music of the Prairie, written by Christy Lawrence Viviano about life in rural Southern Louisiana. I was equally taken with this beautiful book and decided to purchase a copy for myself.

Lunch started with a loaf of warm bread and two butters—one regular and the second a mixed berry butter. This latter was tasty, but left me thinking that it would be better at breakfast on either an English muffin or a bagel.

We started by sharing two appetizers. The first was an order of Natchitoches meat pies—named for a city in Louisiana. They have “a savory meat filling in a crescent-shaped, flaky wheat pastry turnover. It is similar to a Spanish picadillo beef em-panada…. The Natchi-toches meat pie is nearly identical to the traditional ground beef empanada of Argentina” (wikipedia.com). The pastry crust was light and flakey and the filling had a definite peppery bite. I thought that I detected a hint of liver and deduced that the filling here was boudin rather than ground beef and pork. A question to our server confirmed that I was correct. With the mini-pies came a small dish of a creole mustard-based dipping sauce.

The second appetizer was the Dynamite Shrimp—large battered and fried shrimp coated with a sweetish chili-garlic sauce. This reminded me of Chinese Honey Walnut Shrimp—without the nuts—and seemed to have the same mayo and milk/cream sauce that you find on the Chinese classic. Here the flavors were a blend of Asian and Louisiana, and, again, no one cooks shrimp better than the Chinese or the Cajuns.

Proving once again that he is a man of surprises, Chuck abandoned his carnivore tendencies and ordered the Vegetarian Shepherd’s Pie. Sitting under a cheesy potato topping sat green beans, yellow squash, onions, tomatoes, and mushrooms (Mine, all mine.) in a tomato “gravy.” All of the vegetables were crisp-cooked—especially the green beans—and retained all of their fresh veggie flavor. The tomato gravy was herb seasoned with a slightly sweet taste.

For my entrée, I went back to the appetizers and ordered the sesame-seared ahi tuna that came with a wasabi ranch sauce and a roasted red pepper aioli. Now you might think from looking at the photo that the tuna was served really rare. And rare it was, although not as rare as I would like. I prefer that the center of my ahi tuna be bordering on cold and this came warm—it’s like the difference between truly rare beef and medium rare. Still, I ate the portion with gusto and with amazement that I would find this in a small (just over 32,000) Southern Louisiana town.

If you were to ask me where to eat in New Iberia, I would still initially say Bon Creole Lunch Counter. But it is good to know that a 4.0 Addie alternative exists at Clementine’s.

To review the role of Adler, Kitty Humbug, and the Addie rating system, read the November 14, 2011 blog.