Magnifique Mardi Gras Menus

The English Novelist Thackeray, a testy but thoughtful gourmet, found his palate appalled when he visited the United States -- until he rode into New Orleans. There, to his delighted amazement, he found a city where "the claret is as good as it is at Bordeaux, and where a bouillabaisse can be had than which a better was not eaten at Marseille." Thus did William Makepeace afford Creole cooking its first, well-deserved break into print. Lest his words and the return of Mardi Gras next month make you fall into the fairly common error of believing that Creole cooking and New Orleans are synonymous, however, you should know that areas generally included in the cartography of Creole cuisinery are Louisiana, Cuba, Haiti, Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Martinique, Barbados and Trinidad.

Upper-crust Creoles like to boast they're of pure French or pure Spanish or pure Dutch descent, but their cuisine, they admit, is of an altogether different lineage: here the blood is creatively mixed. Walk into a busy Creole kitchen; you'll find careful cooks infusing their dishes with African gumbo, Spanish saffron, French capers, Italian olive oil and allspice from the jungle. Get on speaking terms with these cooks, and you'll learn that their art isn't mere conglomeration, however, but a kind of heavenly evolvement, rich and free from affectation. Even when a Creole dish seems to be a straight copy of something European like onion soup, it usually reveals an added vigor, a touch of mountain chili peppers perhaps, or the fragrance of wild fresh marjoram, or the, bright color of annatto seeds.

Caribbean cooks naturally hold aces in colorful fruits, being able to reach out the window, tear a plump lime off the branch of a nearby tree and swish its juice over a golden papaya; and the tropical fruits which are common in the States are handled in the most uncommon way by West Indian chefs; the banana will appear on a platter with wild boar, in a crisp croquette, as a stuffing for guinea hen, or in a delicate mousse; the juice of the lime will not only be flowing on any patio where rum punch is found, but also will be evident in the French dressing, in the breaded pork chops, or sprinkled over little mangrove oysters.

Thanks to the airways and other fast shipping, many of the lesser-known tropical fruits are now available to shoppers on the mainland. Fresh mangoes from Florida and Mexico are shipped in season to every cranny in the United States. Fresh papayas from Hawaii and the Caribbean are appearing in heavier supply each year. The large Puerto Rican emigration to the States has created a demand, in the Spanish neighborhoods of large cities, for such fruits as guava and plantain, a hard variety of banana which is always eaten in cooked form.

In gourmet shops you'll find a growing assortment of canned or preserved tropical fruits. A refreshing snack containing typical Caribbean fruits (although packed in Hawaii) is the 13-1/2-ounce can of mixed frozen fruits in pineapple and papaya syrup. From Cuba, canned guava shells in extra-heavy syrup are a rare, four-star gourmet dazzler. Place the shells cold on a mound of sour cream, then drizzle the red guava syrup over the top for a lively, lovely dessert.

To test avocados, mangoes or papayas for ripeness, merely fondle the fruit -- don't get a strangle hold on it -- and if the flesh yields to the touch, it's ready to eat. The natives will insist that you wait until a mango is heavy and drowsy with ripeness, just a trifle overripe if possible, before eating. Then, they suggest, it's a good idea to don oversize oil skins as protection from the splattering juice. You cut the skin away, petal fashion, from the top of the fruit, slice the flesh away from the clingstone, then bite into something sweeter than a peach and zippier than a pineapple.

Island-hoppers who've tasted smooth cocoanut ice cream served in the cocoanut shell, called cocoanut glacé, had better not attempt to duplicate this sweet savory unless they're willing and able to work with an ice pick, a heavy hammer, a grater or electric blender and an ice cream freezer. But there are dozens of other fruit dishes like the stuffed avocado (recipe below) which are velvet for anyone with a modicum of cooking experience.

The reason Creole seafood and fish are prepared with such rare charm and skill isn't hard to find. The pompano, the angel fish, the red snapper and others are usually carried in a straight line from the hook to the waiting pan. Surprisingly, one of the most popular of all staple foods in the Antilles is the dried salt codfish imported from Newfoundland. The fact that salt cod doesn't need refrigeration undoubtedly accounts for its wide use among the natives. But the way this dish is handled points up the advanced stage of Creole culinery civilization. It appears as Bacalao à la Vizcaina, actually following a classical Escoffier recipe called Morue à la Creole, which consists of poached salt codfish in a casserole with onions, tomatoes, garlic oil, parsley, potatoes and bread crumbs or bread croutons.

Creole cooks understand the difference between seasoning food to enhance its taste, and flavoring food to create a new taste, and they conjure with herbs and spices to do both. Where a bay leaf might normally be dropped into a pot and removed after its aroma has settled like a gentle smog into the food, the Greole cook may well take the bay leaf, chop it as fine as powder and then add it to the earthen casserole. He wants the flavor of the bay leaf to remain on your taste buds quietly but surely until the last drop of gravy vanishes from the plate.

Just as a Chinese chef knows that certain leafy vegetables must be sautéed in sesame seed oil for a certain characteristic flavor, or a French chef knows that fresh mushrooms must be simmered in drawn sweet butter to be at their best, so the Creole chef will insist on using lard in one instance, olive oil in another, butter in a third and rendered beef fat in a fourth. In New Orleans, no man begins an oyster gumbo until he has first made his roux, a mixture of fat and flour used for thickening soups and stews. Roux must be cooked until it has the exact aroma of hazelnuts. Fanatic attention to detail is the kind of open secret that transforms a good gumbo into a distinguished one. Perhaps the best example of fats artfully used is in the illustrious Puerto Rican sofrito, a purée or thick sauce with a ham base, now sold in cans in the United States. In Puerto Rican hotels and homes, the sofrito appears in hundreds of dishes, hot or cold, eaten with a spoon or served on a chunk of crisp bread, over fish or chicken or pasta. Made with pure leaf lard and olive oil, it's a blend of ham, vegetables and spices which never becomes monotonous, and actually creates greater relish the more widely it's used. Playboy's recipe for sofrito and the tropical formulae which follow are all adapted for conquistadors working with available mainland foods.

[recipe_title]Sofrito[/recipe_title]

(One pint)

[recipe]1/4 lb. cooked or canned ham, diced[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup lard[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup olive oil[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon finely minced garlic[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup finely minced onion[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup finely minced green pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon oregano[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon powdered saffron[/recipe]

[recipe]2 whole canned pimientos, diced[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon coriander[/recipe]

[recipe]1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper[/recipe]

Melt the lard in a heavy saucepan. Add the oil, and heat slightly. Add the garlic, onion, green pepper, oregano and saffron. Simmer slowly until onion is a deep yellow but not browned. Transfer all the ingredients from the saucepan to an electric blender. Add the ham, pimientos, coriander and pepper. Blend until all ingredients are smooth. Stop the blender, if necessary, and force unblended food toward the knives. If the ham is very salty, no additional salt should be used. If canned ham is used, salt should be added to taste. Sofrito may be stored in the refrigerator until needed.

Chicken Livers with Sofrito

(Serves four)

Slowly heat 1 cup sofrito. Keep warm until served. Wash 3/4 lb. chicken livers. Dry with paper towels. Sprinkle with salt, pepper and paprika. Dip livers in flour. Pat off excess. Melt vegetable fat to a depth of 1/4 inch in a large heavy frying pan or electric skillet. Sauté the livers, turning when necessary, until light golden brown. Avoid overcooking, or livers will become tough. Arrange livers on hot fresh toast cut diagonally. Pour sofrito over livers. Garnish with large sprigs of watercress.

Roast Suckling Pig, Papaya Sauce

(Serves 10)

All over the globe, roast little pig is featured for the celebration of the new (concluded overleaf) Mardi Gras Menus (continued from page 26) year. You'll have to order it in advance from your butcher. It may be served stuffed or unstuffed. For stuffing, buy two bags of bread prepared for stuffing and follow the directions on the package, adding 2 cups diced apple or canned mango to give the filling tartness. If a stuffing is used, fill the body cavity and then sew it shut. Piglet can be eaten hot as a main course or cold on the buffet table. Don't expect to serve generous portions of pork when the piglet is carved. People love it mainly for the sweet deep brown cracklings. In the States the pig appears with an apple in its mouth. In the tropics a lime replaces the apple. The papaya sauce isn't the usual gravy, but a relish that should be served icy cold as a dip for the hot or cold meat.

[recipe]10-12 1b. suckling pig[/recipe]

[recipe]Salad oil[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]11-oz. can papayas in heavy syrup[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon powdered ginger[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup fresh lime juice[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon soy sauce[/recipe]

[recipe]1/8 teaspoon Tabasco sauce[/recipe]

Have the butcher clean and prepare the pig for roasting, making sure that he has scraped it to remove any bristles. Wash in cold water, and dry. Sprinkle inside generously with salt. Add stuffing, if desired. Fasten front legs forward with skewers, fasten back legs rearward. Wedge a corncob or a block of wood in the mouth and wrap each ear with paper. Place the pig face down on a wire rack in an uncovered roasting pan. Brush the skin lightly with oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Dip a double thickness of cheesecloth in salad oil, and spread it over back and sides of the pig to prevent excessive browning. Roast at 350° for 3 1/2 to 4 hours. Lift the cheesecloth from time to time to keep it from sticking to skin. It will not be necessary to turn pig during roasting. Throw off excess fat from pan, if necessary, to prevent smoke odors in kitchen. For carving use a heavy French knife or sturdy poultry shears. Place the pig on a large plank or cutting board. Front and back legs may be cut off whole like turkey drumsticks.

To prepare the sauce, drain the papayas, reserving 2 tablespoons juice from can. Dice the papayas. Place them in an electric blender with the 2 tablespoons papaya juice, ginger, lime juice, soy sauce and Tabasco sauce. Blend until smooth.

[recipe_title]Jambalaya[/recipe_title]

(Serves 6-8)

Jambalaya is a New Orleans institution in a casserole. The number of ingredients automatically signifies that many versions are possible. The chaurice or chorizo, a peppery Spanish sausage, may not be available in your neighborhood. Fresh link sausages or Vienna sausages may be used instead. If possible use a deep round metal casserole for both cooking and serving the jambalaya.

[recipe]31/2-1b. fowl, boiled (save broth)[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2-1b. slice ham[/recipe]

[recipe]1 1b. medium-size shrimp[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 1b. chaurice sausages[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup diced celery[/recipe]

[recipe]3/4 cup diced green pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup diced canned pimiento[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup minced onion[/recipe]

[recipe]2 minced cloves garlic[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons minced parsley[/recipe]

[recipe]2 small bay leaves[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon oregano[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon leaf thyme[/recipe]

[recipe]1/3 cup butter[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup dry white wine[/recipe]

[recipe]1 1/2 cups converted rice[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon chili powder[/recipe]

[recipe]1/8 teaspoon ground cloves[/recipe]

[recipe]Cayenne pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt[/recipe]

Remove skin and bones from fowl and cut into large dice. Cut ham into small dice. Peel and remove veins from shrimp. Cut sausages into 1-inch pieces. In a large heavy casserole, Dutch oven or stew pot, melt the butter over a low flame. Add the sausage, ham, celery, green pepper, pimiento, onion, garlic, parsley, bay leaves, oregano and thyme. Sauté slowly until onion turns yellow. Add diced fowl and wine. Simmer slowly 15 minutes, stirring frequently. Add I quart chicken broth. If flavor is weak, add a bouillon cube or two. Add 1 teaspoon salt, the chili powder, ground cloves and a generous dash of cayenne pepper. Add rice. Stir well. As soon as rice and broth are brought to the boiling point, reduce flame as low as possible. Cook, keeping pot tightly covered, 15 minutes. Add shrimp to pot. Cover with lid again and cook, keeping flame low, 10 to 15 minutes longer or until rice is very tender. Taste rice, and correct seasoning if desired.

[recipe_title]Red Snapper in Foil[/recipe_title]

(Serves four)

[recipe]4 6-to-8-oz. red snapper steaks[/recipe]

[recipe]1 lime[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]Butter[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup yellow corn meal[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup cold water[/recipe]

[recipe]1 1/2 cups boiling water in saucepan[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon monosodium glutamate[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon chili powder[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons grated cheese[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup minced green pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons minced onion[/recipe]

Mix corn meal with cold water. To the boiling water add 1 teaspoon salt, monosodium glutamate, chili powder and grated cheese. Gradually stir in the corn meal, mixing well. Turn flame low and cook for 10 minutes, stirring frequently. While the corn meal is cooking, sauté the onion and green pepper in 2 tablespoons butter. As soon as onion is yellow, add onion and green pepper to corn meal. Remove corn meal from flame. Cut four pieces of aluminum foil, each piece sufficiently large to wrap each portion of fish separately. Grease the inside of the paper generously with butter. Place the red snapper on the foil. Sprinkle fish with the juice of the lime and with salt and pepper. Spread corn meal mixture on the fish. Fold ends of paper over to cover fish completely. Place fish on a greased baking pan. Bake, in an oven preheated to 500°, for 30 minutes. Fish may be served in or out of the foil.

[recipe_title]Fruit Stuffed Avocado, Rum Dressing[/recipe_title]

(Serves four)

[recipe]2 large ripe avocados[/recipe]

[recipe]2 cups grapefruit segments[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup orange segments[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup fresh strawberries[/recipe]

[recipe]8-oz. can pineapple wedges, drained[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup mayonnaise[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup heavy cream[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons dark Jamaica rum[/recipe]

[recipe]2 teaspoons frozen lemonade concentrate[/recipe]

The total amount of fruit in this recipe will naturally depend upon the size of the avocados. Some are no bigger than a small fist, others are the size of a large cocoanut. Increase or reduce the amount of fruit accordingly. To segment the oranges and grapefruit, cut away all outer skin and outer white membrane, using an extra-sharp French knife. Then cut between the inner pieces of membrane to make segments. Frozen grapefruit segments, thawed and drained, may be used as a timesaver. Cut each avocado in half. Remove seeds. Brush flesh of avocado with lime juice or lemon juice to keep the pulp from turning dark. Leave skin on avocado. Place each avocado half on a dessert dish or small bowl so that it won't wobble. Fill with grapefruit segments, orange segments, pineapple wedges and strawberries. Keep in the refrigerator until serving time. Beat the cream until stiff. Fold the whipped cream into the mayonnaise. Fold the rum and the lemonade concentrate into the mayonnaise. Serve the rum dressing in a sauceboat at the table or pour it over the fruit just before serving. And you can forget the old gag about drinking the dressing and throwing the food away. This tastes too good.