New Orleans and the Authentic Hurricane Cocktail

My Traveling Tales by Michelle
Photos by Michelle and Maddie

"New Orleans is unlike any city in America. Its cultural diversity is woven into the food, the music, the architecture—even the local superstitions. It's a sensory experience on all levels and there's a story lurking around every corner." —Ruta Sepetys

Top: Hurricanes (regular and virgin) and dinner at Pierre Maspero's. 
Bottom: Jambalaya, Shrimp Creole and Po-Boy at Gumbo Shop.

"There are only three great storybook cities in America—New York City, San Francisco.... and New Orleans." — Tennessee Williams

St. Louis Cathedral-Basilica is among the oldest cathedrals in the United States.
The statue located in Jackson Square is of Andrew Jackson, 7th President of the United States.

My artistic rendering of the cathedral's facade.

Five to midnight in the garden of St. Anthony (on the backside of the cathedral).

   My first visit to New Orleans this past June has prompted me to consider how quickly I might be able to return to this city of mystery and enchantment. New Orleans contains everything that I love in an urban experience: a unique sense of place, artistic vision, live music, friendly locals, public dancing, historic architecture and outstanding food.
   New Orleans was founded nearly 300 years ago in 1718. After both Spanish and French rule, the United States purchased Louisiana from Napoleon in 1803. The cultural and architectural influences of both the Spanish and French are still visible in modern day New Orleans, plus there are substantial Caribbean influences that cannot be denied. Some even go so far as to say that New Orleans is the "northern most Caribbean City". During the war of 1812, the British tried to conquer the city but Andrew Jackson and his troops prevailed to decisively win the Battle of New Orleans with the assistance of privateers led by the famous pirate, Jean Lafitte.
   By 1840, the port city of New Orleans, optimally situated at the mouth of the Mississippi River and the Gulf of Mexico, was the wealthiest city in the nation. Meandering through the French Quarter and the Financial District, it is easy to see that big money built the historic buildings and mansions. Architectural flourishes abound and are pleasing to the eye. Throughout the French Quarter artistic ironwork is a unifying decorative element which embellishes balconies, fences, doorways, staircases, lamps and signs.

   

My favorite photo from the trip! And the band plays on in Jackson Square...

Maddie and I met the lovely and talented, fascinator-wearing, Ginger Woechan.
You can find her and her adorable dog in Jackson Square.

According to talented artist Victoria Lenning, Dia De Los Muertos is alive and well in NOLA.

When you make eye contact with a joker, this is what happens next.

   Maddie and I arrived in New Orleans in time for dinner on a hot and humid Friday night in mid June. We met up with Alain, the CEO of the company that I joined in April (sorry friends, moving forward, there will be no more photos of me sporting a hard hat, pink safety glasses, reflective safety vest and steel toe boots). With sundown still an hour away, and the heat still rising from the concrete, the three of us gamely set out on foot to find a restaurant. I instantly wilted in the heat, but the new sights and sounds of the city kept me focused on other things besides perspiring.
   We happened upon Dickie Brennan's Palace Cafe. A diner, who was exiting the circularly rotating front door, assured us that the food was great. The recommendation sealed the deal, and we entered the beautiful interior of the restaurant. I audibly sighed when the blast of air conditioning hit my face. The friendly hostess led us up the decorative iron staircase to the second floor and seated our party at a coveted table by the floor to ceiling windows looking out to Decatur Street. Our visit to New Orleans was off to a terrific start.

Café du Monde is famous for beignets paired with café au lait. It was so hot and humid
at our table on the covered patio that Maddie and I opted for frozen coffees. Great choice!

After our visit to Café du Monde, Maddie and I took a stroll along the mighty Mississippi River.

For our next visit, we'll take a steamboat cruise on the Natchez and stay at the Hotel Monteleone.

   What followed next was my first encounter with a succession of delicious meals that properly introduced me to the tasty regional cuisine of New Orleans. Over the course of my life, exposure to Cajun and Creole cooking has been rather limited—much of my knowledge has been gleaned by watching Emeril Lagasse's cooking shows. When I have dined at the occasional Big Easy-inspired restaurant in California, the results haven't been so great. It's probably akin to trying to find a proper Mexican food restaurant in Maine. After my visit to New Orleans, I now understand why people become obsessed with Creole and Cajun cuisine. I have ordered four cookbooks on the subject since returning home, and I plan on making some of the cuisine's classic dishes for family and friends.

The mural at Johnny Sánchez is a rendering of the chef's tattoos.

Sucré is a "sweets salon" near Jackson Square in the French Quarter.

Strawberry daiquiri at Gumbo Shop, bread pudding at Royal House, Crème Brûlée at Palace Café and Arroz con Pollo at Johnny Sánchez.

New Orleans is the birthplace of the Sazerac cocktail made with Rye and Absinthe.
I sipped this one at Evangeline on a Saturday afternoon.

Oyster lovers rejoice! Oyster houses abound in the French Quarter.

Left - Pralines are made fresh on-site at Southern Candymakers. They will ship direct to you!
Right - King Cake was served as an afternoon treat at the business conference our team attended.

   My first meal in New Orleans at Palace Café was Gulf Shrimp in a Creole Meunière Sauce. I discovered that the decadent sauce is made from equal parts dark chicken broth and Worcestershire. Before my visit to New Orleans, I could not imagine adding one cup of Worcestershire to anything. What makes the sauce velvety and decadent is the addition of heavy cream and copious amounts of butter. Creole Meunière sauce is dark and syrupy. The taste profile is reminiscent of my favorite flavor enhancer—demi-glacé. Upon hearing that Maddie planned on ordering the more conservative chicken entrée for dinner, Alain encouraged her to order an appetizer portion of gumbo. A hesitant Maddie bravely dived in and discovered she likes seafood gumbo. She ate every last bite, scraping the bottom of the shallow bowl with the spoon.
   To complete our dining experience we all agreed to order Bananas Foster. Over the course of the evening we had watched the servers throughout the restaurant prepare the dessert table-side by sautéing fresh bananas in brown sugar and cinnamon, then flambéing the mixture by adding banana liqueur and rum. When the alcohol hits the hot skillet, flames leap into the air invoking quite a dramatic scene. The bananas and sauce are served nonchalantly over vanilla bean ice cream. Three spoons dipped into the delicious mess, because no one at the table was going to forgo tasting this New Orleans classic. Personally, I think the dessert would be even better by swapping Butter Pecan Ice Cream for the traditional scoops of vanilla.

After our walk along the Mississippi we headed back to the French Quarter
and stumbled upon a Pride Parade.

The parade's participants threw beads at us, much to our delight. 

Drag Queens enjoy the elegant ride through the French Quarter.

The Pride Party on Bourbon Street was just getting started at midnight.

   To aid in our digestion, after dinner—Alain, Maddie and I took a much needed long walk around the French Quarter. It was dark, the sun had dipped well below the horizon, yet the heat and humidity were still fully present. We walked past antique stores, gift shops illuminated from within, pulsating restaurants and bars that had windows open to the street, music blasting. We stopped and listened to talented street musicians and threw a few bucks in to the open collection baskets or round plastic containers marked by black Sharpies with $ signs. Fortunetellers who were set-up at portable card tables asked to read our futures.
   One intersection led to another, a few lefts and then a few rights, and we eventually found ourselves on Bourbon Street, which I should add, was on the eve of what turned out to be a very historic Pride weekend. Spectacle ran amok. Bourbon Street is not for the faint of heart, prudes, or for those folks who suffer from germ fetishes.
   We walked to the top of Bourbon Street where beautiful, young gay men with waxed chests were dancing in the street, wearing only purple briefs accented with white piping. I peeked in the bar on the opposite side of the street, and there was a dark-haired Adonis dancing on top of a bar, Coyote Ugly-style, clothed only in a white thong. Behind him on the far walls, the big screen TVs pulsated with homoerotic videos, which interestingly enough incorporated ripe fruit, men kissing, pulsating colors, and exploding geometric patterns. It was hypnotic, but when you have your eighteen-year-old daughter and boss observing you from a few feet away, I was encouraged to walk on and find the next spectacle to take in, which on Bourbon Street, it turns out, is right in front of you. It was one arched eyebrow moment after the next.

   The three of us turned around at what seemed to be the end of the line. We retraced our steps, walking and perspiring all the way back down Bourbon Street, all 13 blocks of it—the air cloying thick. We weaved around the thousands of bodies of partiers and bystanders,  and of locals and tourists. Our darting eyes surveyed the scene in front of us, as well as to the parallel sidewalks and the balconies above. Intermittently we looked down surveying the ground a few feet in front of us to identify and avoid urban landmines such has horse dung, vomit, discarded food and trash.
   Public drinking is, of course, legal. People haphazardly carry big plastic glasses filled with strong cocktails such as neon pink Hurricanes or the appropriately named Hand Grenade®, touted as "New Orleans' Most Powerful Drink". A man wore a cardboard sign that advertised Big Ass Beers at a nearby bar that had a sidewalk accessible take-out window. Alcohol-fueled laughter and shrieks of glee filled the night air. A few inebriated college-aged girls cried while loitering in the street and high octane couples verbally abused each other. I felt like a voyeur as I bobbed and weaved through the swarms of people. We saw men cajoling and females flashing breasts—more cheap Mardi Gras beads being earned to add to the layered collections worn around women's necks.

In Jackson Square, near the Cathedral, there was umbrella-twirling dancing in the street.

Umbrellas in NOLA are used as protection from both rain and sun.
These long legged girls were visiting the city for a volleyball tournament.

  Continuing down Bourbon Street, we saw nearly naked working girls—sirens of the night—standing provocatively in the doorways of strip clubs luring men into the darkened interiors. I wondered if vampires lay in wait. We weaved in out of the crowds. The air was humid, the heat felt oppressive. The three of us, Alain, Maddie and I, were continually separated by the meandering tides of people, and we'd look for each other with darting eyes, and signaled each other with hand gestures, until we were able to once again walk side-by-side, only to be parted shortly thereafter. When we made it back to the hotel in the early morning hours, hot and exhausted, but oddly exhilarated, I immediately took a shower. There was no way I was carrying the grungy feel of Bourbon Street with me to bed. Clean as a whistle, I slept like a baby between those starched white sheets.

Voodoo dolls for sale in a souvenir shop in the French Quarter.

Quintessential New Orleans: Voodoo and Drag Queens on Bourbon Street.

This Four Points Hilton is located on Bourbon Street where guests can view from the balconies
 the nightly spectacle of revelers traipsing and weaving up and down the street and sidewalks.

   On Saturday morning, Maddie and I slept in. Truthfully, I was not overly anxious to leave the hotel to encounter the claustrophobic humidity of a bayou summer day. Maddie finally insisted that we leave the hotel. What a role reversal. "Oh, alright!" I said begrudingly. "Let's do it." And do it, we did. Almost all of the photos in this blog post were taken on that Saturday beginning with our lunch at the Gumbo Shop, followed by our walking tour of the French Quarter and Jackson Square, meeting Alain for an afternoon snack of beignets (fried donuts sprinkled with copious amounts of powdered sugar) and coffee at Café du Monde, walking a stretch of the Mississippi, stumbling across the celebratory Pride Parade, and once again wandering all over the French Quarter and eating dinner (while resting our aching feet) at an oyster house before catching a taxi back to our hotel. Maddie and I had a blast, and I was so happy to be making memories like this before she heads off to college in August.

There's no shortage of gift shops in the French Quarter.

   I am compiling a bucket list of items for a future trip to New Orleans, which I'm hoping will be for an upcoming Sistercation (but not when it is so damn hot). I think it is safe to say, no matter what your personal proclivities, New Orleans will ignite your imagination and especially your taste buds. The city is at once foreboding and yet also inviting. New Orleans sits at an odd juxtaposition of old and new, prim and sultry, Gothic and modern. There's plenty of Southern charm to go around. I've returned home with the hankering to learn more about Cajun and Creole cooking, and to wash it all down with a not-too-sweet, passion fruit-accented Hurricane cocktail.

Immaculate Conception Jesuit Church is located near the French Quarter.

Join us for Hurricanes below...

The Authentic Hurricane Cocktail

Fresh Passion Fruit Syrup

by Linda

"Don't be afraid to go out on a limb. That's where the fruit is." — H. Jackson Brown

Ripe passion fruit are pitted on the skin.

    Michelle and I decided to make Hurricane cocktails after she and her daughter Maddie returned from their trip to New Orleans this past June. They were coming to visit me in California for my birthday in July, and I volunteered to make the passion fruit syrup that we would need to make the drink. I was lucky to find beautiful passion fruit from New Zealand at the Whole Foods Market® where I work, because they are not always available. The fruit that I purchased were as large as a good sized plums, and they had smooth dark purple skins. I knew that I would have to let them ripen in a bowl on my kitchen counter until the skins became pitted and the fruit shriveled a bit. This ripening period took much longer than I anticipated, and the fruit wasn't ready for about two weeks. In fact, it turned out that they were not ready until after Michelle and Maddie arrived for our Sistercation and my birthday party. The upside of that was that Michelle was able to help me prepare the fruit to make the syrup.

This passion flower was photographed by me in my yard. This variety does not produce fruit.

Equipment:
One 2 quart saucepan
a fine mesh sieve
bowl for cooked syrup
bowl for ice bath

Michelle cuts the ripe passion fruit in half.

Ingredients:
1 cup white sugar
1 cup filtered water
1.5 cups fresh passion fruit pulp with the seeds (about 10 large passion fruit)
ice bath for cooling the syrup quickly

In a large saucepan combine the sugar and water and allow to come to a boil. Boil the water and sugar together on low heat for five minutes. Add the passion fruit pulp and simmer for one minute. The short cooking time for the pulp is necessary to preserve the delicate and complex flavor of the passion fruit. After one minute remove the saucepan from the heat and pour the mixture into a fresh bowl. Place the bowl with the passion fruit mixture over an ice bath and stir until cooled. After the mixture is cooled, place a fine mesh sieve over a bowl to collect the strained mixture. Press the mixture and the seeds to extract as much liquid as possible. Discard the seeds, and pour the syrup into a container. Keep in the refrigerator until ready to use. The syrup should last up to one month in refrigeration and can be frozen if desired.

The finished passion fruit syrup.

Passion fruit syrup is used to make the famous Hurricane cocktail.

Retro-Style: Lawn Fête Carrot Cake (Traditional and Gluten-Free Versions)

by Linda
Photos by Michelle

"Life, people learned, was not easy. Life was not cake. Life was not carrot cake." — Tao Lin

   Carrot cake had been around quite awhile now—long enough for we sisters to consider it retro. Still, it is the favorite cake of many. It remains a perennial best-seller in any restaurant, café or market that I have worked in during the last, let's say almost 40 years. Case in point, my brother-in-law, Jay requested this cake for his recent birthday celebration this past June, and it is always in the cake case at the Whole Foods Market® where I work.

My brother-in-law, Jay, blows out the candles on his carrot birthday cake.

   When I started searching the Internet looking for the actual history of carrot cake, I found that its origins can be traced back to Medieval times, and I happily stumbled upon a quirky and adorable blog post packed with information and cheeky illustrations that made me smile. The blog is Cakespy—check out the intriguing history of carrot cake by clicking here.
   My very favorite recipe for carrot cake comes from a somewhat unlikely source. Anti-feminist, Marabel Morgan, and her now very dated The Total Woman Cookbook has surprisingly produced some of our family's best-loved sweet treats, including her simply scrumptious Creamy Rice Pudding that is one of my very favorite desserts.
   Her delicious carrot cake recipe has served me well over the years. I used this cake recipe for my standard carrot cake offering in the hotels and restaurants where I worked as a pastry chef, baker, caterer and private chef in the Santa Ynez Valley. I remember when I was working as the pastry chef at the Los Olivos Grand Hotel, that Cooks Illustrated came out with a carrot cake recipe that they touted as having tweaked until it was the best their chefs had ever tasted. I remember trying it out, but it simply wasn't as good as Marabel's.

Michelle and Jay celebrated Maddie's first birthday with a carrot cake.

   Over the years the legion of carrot cakes that I have made have been the stars of many a wedding, birthday party and special event. One time I made a huge three layer carrot sheet cake toward the end of my baking career from this recipe for cowboy queen, Dale Evans, when she visited the Santa Ynez Valley circa 1991. Dale was the wife of Roy Rogers—King of the Cowboys, and Dale was was fondly referred to as Queen of the West. She wrote the popular song, "Happy Trails to You" and the tune became the famous couple's theme song evermore. My carrot cake for Dale's party was frosted with the traditional cream cheese frosting and had "Happy Trails to You" emblazoned over the surface in chocolate icing. Additionally, I decorated the cake with beautiful fresh flowers and lots of colorful ribbons, and it took two of us to carry it out to the delivery van. Alas, I had a photo of it at one time, but has now been misplace somewhere in my archives or lost in my travels. It was reported back to me, though, that Dale had loved the cake and so did the crowd that attended the event—its massiveness reduced to a few remaining crumbs.
   Every family that I know has their own cherished recipe for carrot cake, but if you are just beginning to bake, or you are looking for a change, give this recipe a try. It really is a winner.

A short eighteen years later, it is now Maddie who is baking her dad a 
carrot cake for his recent birthday.

Lawn Fête Carrot Cake (Traditional and Gluten-Free Versions)

Horchata Agua Fresca for a Crowd (Dairy-Free)

by Michelle
Photos by Linda and Michelle

"The origins of this drink stem from Egypt where they originally used the chufa nut to make horchata. During ancient times the drink made its way to Spain. When the Spaniards brought the drink to Mexico, the natives used rice to make the drink." —Chelsea Kenyon

   I wish I had a video to share with you of my sister Juliette as she initially tasted the horchata that I made for Maddie's graduation party. Juliette looked like she was tasting a fine wine, analyzing her palette for the complexities of terroir, balanced with the high and low notes of the almonds and rice.

   Even though we were celebrating Maddie and her educational accomplishment, I especially made the horchata for Juliette. This story really begins back in February when I learned during a lunch with my sister and her daughters, Avalon and Sonora, that Juliette's favorite beverage with Mexican food is, in fact, Horchata. Not a sweet and sour margarita, nor iced-cold beer, or effervescent Coca-Cola—but the creamy, refreshing agua fresca known as horchata. 

Juliette—Horchata connoisseur.

   After being sisters for four decades, Juliette's declared love of horchata was a new one on me. You think you know a person and then you discover she loves horchata. Who knew? Certainly not me. I had never tasted the beverage before that lunch. And, the horachata served at the restaurant? Juliette declared it the worst tasting horchata she had ever had. I committed myself right then and there to uncover the mysteries of horchata and to try to make the best version mi hermana has ever tasted.

Horchata and Agua Frescos are popular beverages at Farmers Markets in California. This photo was taken in Petaluma, California at a market just down the street from Linda's house.

   Of course, these days, all quests seem to begin with a search on the internet. The search term "horchata recipe" returned many varying responses from dairy based beverages to more traditional offerings made with nut and rice milks. When in doubt, I say opt for traditional methods. As with the fruit agua frescas, such as watermelon and pineapple-ginger, to make horchata there's a lot of high speed blending, so you'll want a good electric blender to prepare this recipe.
   Since the only horchata that I had tasted was the one Juliette declared the worst, I didn't have a favorable flavor profile in my memory banks to work towards when creating the beverage at home. Some recipes call for soaking the rice and almonds together, which I opted against. When making an almond milk, the almonds soak overnight in filtered water. Afterwards, the soaking water is discarded and the soft almonds are blended with fresh water. I was concerned that the almonds' soaking liquid might taste bitter. Also, if you are interested in such things, the strained almond pulp can be used as a cooking additive in crackers and baked goods, whereas there really isn't a good use for the strained rice pulp.
    I waited with bated breath as Juliette took an initial sip of the homemade horchata. She was not quick to provide feedback. I patiently studied her face for signs of approval, but her features were still, except for her lips which gently moved as the horchata rolled around in her mouth. Finally, after what seemed to be forever, Juliette said without enthusiasm, "It's not the best I've ever had." Oh, the stinging bluntness between sisters.
   That's the great thing about Juliette though, she's always honest. Searingly so, at times. "What would make it the best?" I asked, figuratively swallowing my disappointment. According to Juliette my horchata needed to be thinner and it needed more canela (Mexican cinnamon). In fact, I was greatly relieved. I could overcome those two objections rather easily. I immediately added more club soda to thin the mix. That night, as I was putting away leftovers, I added another canela stick to the remaining horchata and gave the creamy beverage a good stir.
   In the morning, Juliette poured glasses of horchata to accompany our impromptu breakfast of chilaquiles. Juliette repeated her standard connoisseur's taste test. Much to my relief, my dear sister declared my homemade horchata a winner.

Horchata Agua Fresca for a Crowd (Dairy-Free)

Pineapple-Ginger Agua Fresca for a Crowd

by Michelle

"Este verano en la playa, tira agua fresca al sol, y se te refrescarán las ideas para el otoño". 

                                                                                                                         — Xavi Gabriel.

A trio of Agua Frescas (Horchata, Pineapple-Ginger and Watermelon)
can be conveniently prepared and chilled in advance of your party.

   I recently found myself traveling at a cruising speed of about 550 miles per hour on a flight from Colorado to Arizona. I casually watched the orange and purple tinged sunset from my window seat. When the sun slipped below the horizon, I pressed the overhead  light and settled myself into the reading comfort of the June release of Saveur magazine. After a hectic week in Denver, I lazily browsed the pages taking in the do-it-yourself Liquid Smoke brief and then moving on to study an article titled Campfire Confection, a version of S'mores made by preparing bourbon-flavored marshmallows. Um... yes, please.
   Then at around cruising altitude, when I popped my ear drums, I turned the pages to On The Spritz an article dedicated to the praise of the modern day Spritz—those wine-based effervescent cocktails that people love to enjoy at home but never seem to order at the cocktail lounge. By the end of the short article, and enticed by the happy photographs. I was ready for a Spritz, that's for sure.
   It didn't take long for me in my relaxed state to think about Maddie's graduation party and the trio of Agua Frescas that we prepared to complement the Mexican-themed menu. We added carbonated water, also known as club soda, to the refreshing homemade fruit juices. It didn't take too much thought before my mind contemplated what it would have been like to substitute cava or champagne for the fizzy water. I'll place my bet on delicious.

The drink buffet included Pineapple and Watermelon Agua Frescas,
dairy-free Horchata, "Not Too Girly" Strawberry Margaritas and chilled white wine. 

   The graduation was an all ages event so I had plenty of non-alcoholic beverages for guests to choose between. If it had been a smaller, adults gathering, substituting alcoholic bubbly for the tamer H₂O fizz may have been tempting. Think Mimosa, but instead of the freshly squeezed orange juice, the flavor is watermelon or pineapple. Sounds great to me. Either way, you can't go wrong. Fruit forward agua frescas are a taste sensation. If you haven't had the pleasure of trying an agua fresca, well, don't delay, make one today.

Maddie seems pretty happy with the options at the toppings bar 
for the tacos. Her cousin, Sonora, is enjoying a vodka enhanced 
pineapple auga fresca during her meal.

Pineapple Ginger Spice Agua Fresca