Roux the Day by Peter King Page A

“I went to talk to her and found myself on her TV show.”
    “Ah, she’s a real dynamo, isn’t she?”
    “She certainly is.”
    “So what would you like for lunch?” she asked.
    “First of all, tell me why an Italian restaurant in New Orleans of all places.”
    “But that’s exactly why, don’t you see?” She became enthusiastic in talking about her restaurant. I liked to see her that way. “It’s all Cajun and Creole. They have French origins so I thought, Italian cooking is not enormously different and, besides, people might like a change of pace. So we offer great Italian dishes and also blends of Italian cooking with Creole and Cajun flavors.”
    “The best of all possible worlds,” I nodded, “from the culinary viewpoint, anyway. Good thinking—how is it being received?”
    “We’ve been in business four years and do better and better every year.”
    “That’s great. Do you do the cooking?”
    “I used to; now my husband does it—he’s half Italian. I take care of the front of the house.”
    “I have a friend who says it’s easy to be a chef,” I told her, and her eyes widened as she began to protest. But I went on: “He says all you have to do is combine the brain of a scientist with the heart of an artist, the ingenuity of a used-car salesman and the energy of a marathon runner.”
    She laughed merrily. “Anyway, what’s for lunch?” I asked.
    We discussed her offerings one by one, but for the first course I decided on the ostriche appetitose. “A few of our tourist customers want to be adventurous and order this because they think it’s ostrich,” Della said.
    Ostriche is, in fact, Italian for “oysters” and she explained that a batter of breadcrumbs, garlic, pepper, parsley and thyme is used to cover the oysters in their shells. Their own juice carefully preserved, they are then moistened with a drop or two of olive oil, cooked on a hot grill and served with lemon.
    I had eaten a similar oyster dish in Emilia-Romagna on an Italian assignment and I was sure that Della’s enthusiasm would make this outstanding.
    “Now for the next course—” she went on.
    “Make this the main course, please,” I asked her. “I know that any self-respecting Italian will have four or five courses for lunch, but I try to stay with three.”
    “All right,” she smiled, “you must have our seafood Terrabona.”
    “You’ve got me there,” I admitted. “I didn’t think there were too many Italian dishes I wasn’t familiar with, but you’ve found one already.”
    “I cheated. It’s not strictly Italian. It’s a New Orleans dish and was originated by Italians living here. Also, it’s as traditionally Southern as you can get.”
    “Sounds terrific; tell me about it.”
    “It’s catfish fillets, shrimp, crawfish tails and oysters. First, the catfish are bronzed in a hot skillet, then the shrimp are butterflied and bronzed under a broiler. The crawfish tails are coated with seasoned flour and deep-fried and the oysters are coated with a blend of seasonings and also deep-fried—”
    “What seasonings?” I asked.
    “Salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic powder, thyme, basil, oregano, cayenne and paprika.”
    “That’s the New Orleans contribution, not Italian,” I commented.
    “Right. We serve it with red beans and rice.”
    “You refer to ‘bronzing’—I suppose that’s like blackening?”
    “Yes, but using a spray of margarine to cook in rather than lots of butter.”
    “You must have some pastas that are different from the standard Italian pastas,” I said.
    “We do,” Della said, “We serve it Sicilian style, a cooking method that remains substantially the same as in Roman days. Fry lots of garlic in olive oil then add spaghetti already cooked al dente. We sprinkle chili peppers and Romano cheese and parsley on it.”
    “That’s a very healthy way to cook it, too.”
    “Yes. Tell me, have you had redfish since you’ve been here?”
    “No, I haven’t,” I