Saute

A simple smear of Creole mustard (which gets added heat from horseradish) and a little extra seasoning gives a chicken breast new sass. Here, the chicken is paired with a speedy version of maque choux, a Louisiana sauté of beans and corn. You’d be hard-pressed to find a simpler, more satisfying weekday supper. For this dish the chicken breasts can be broiled, grilled, or pan-seared.

Shrimp and okra go together like oysters and artichokes (which is to say, they’re made for each other). And to my mind it’s no coincidence that corn and tomatoes are at their peak around the same time as the okra. In this recipe, they all find themselves swimming happily in a broth scented with allspice and thyme, and zippy with fresh jalapeños. If you are leery of that much spice in the broth, leave out the jalapeños and just serve some chopped up alongside, for the daring ones among you.

I’m not sure what the connection is between this old New Orleans favorite and the French politician—perhaps it was created when he visited the city—but whatever the reason, it is an enduring part of the Creole repertoire. The potatoes are most often deep-fried to a light golden brown (a preparation known as “brabant potatoes”) before joining the other ingredients in the pan, but it works just as well to blanch them in water, then crisp them. This makes a tasty complete meal when paired with a ripe tomato salad or a platter of crudités.

One of the great things about living in Louisiana is the plethora of sunny citrus fruits available during winter. When my grapefruit tree started producing more than I could use at home, I developed this recipe to serve at Bayona. Fresh basil is commonly partnered with lemon or orange, but I love how the faint anise flavor of the herb plays off the bright, tart-sweet punch of grapefruit (and since it rarely freezes in New Orleans, we can typically grow basil all year round as well). Citrus and fish is such a great match—this sauce is delicious with pompano, amberjack, or just about any fish.

This is a dish I make often, especially for informal parties. It is delicious, easy, and pretty, and makes a great buffet item, especially when paired with all those other Mediterranean dishes I love to cook and eat, such as Eggplant Caviar and Black Olive Tapenade (p. 191), Artichoke Dolmades with Lemon Sauce (p. 20), and Simple Orzo Salad with Black Olives and Feta (p. 115). The tomato sauce is also a good base for moussaka or baked stuffed eggplant, or just tossed with noodles and some sharp Greek cheese, such as kasseri. The dish can be completed up to the final baking point and kept refrigerated for several hours or even overnight. Bring it to room temperature before baking, or it will overcook.

One of my first memories of New Orleans was gathering the pecans off the ground at the naval base where my father was stationed, then sitting around a table with my family at night, watching Adventures in Paradise and shelling the seemingly bottomless pile. We had nutpicks, silver utensils with curved sharp tips, for digging out the tiny pieces of shell trapped in the crevices of each nut meat—talk about tedious! But I was always proud to have the cleanest and choicest halves to offer up for my mom’s approval. I was surprised when I went to France to cook at the jazz festival in Nice and learned that I had to bring my own pecans to make pecan pie (the nuts are not indigenous there)! It followed, then, that I would use local nuts to create this New Orleans rendition of the more classic Trout Amandine.

I serve this unexpected puree (cauliflower as sauce, who knew?) with seared or grilled scallops, beef, or salmon. Simply place the warm fish or meat atop a pool of the cream.

This unique southwestern-inspired pesto is made with pepitas, which are the green pumpkin seeds that have been shelled from their white hulls. This pesto is particularly great with grilled shrimp, butternut squash ravioli, or pork chops; blended with avocado as a dip for tortilla chips; smeared on a black bean quesadilla; or tossed with penne, chorizo, and roasted red peppers. That should keep you busy for a while!

Crayfish and The New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival seem to go hand in hand. So when it was time to do my annual cooking demo at the Fest, I created this recipe, which is a play on the beloved French bar sandwich made with ham and cheese. I’ve always loved the crispy richness of batter-dipped sandwiches. This version, stuffed with a piquant crayfish salad, steals the show from diner varieties. The creamy crayfish sauce isn’t necessary, but it’s certainly delicious. If you feel guilty about the richness of this recipe, you can use light mayonnaise.

I remember a time when gazpacho became very trendy and was on every menu. I decided to come up with a different version—even with a different color. It was José Andrés of Jaleo in Washington, D.C., who made the best Spanish gazpacho I ever tasted, so I borrowed his technique of frying the bread in olive oil. The toasted flavor and richness of the fried bread helps mellow the acidity and round out the flavors of the other ingredients. The shellfish garnish is not necessary but makes the dish a little more elegant and sumptuous.

This silky concoction makes an elegant starter, or a light supper if paired with the Parisienne Bistro Crudité Plate (p. 102) or the Bayona House Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette (p. 95) and a warm baguette. Oysters and artichokes are another favorite New Orleans combination. For your convenience I’ve called for canned artichoke hearts, but if you’re feeling expansive (and industrious), use fresh artichoke hearts. Your efforts will be rewarded.

This dish combines some of the best New Orleans flavors—shrimp, tasso, creamy grits, and a bit of spice—in an elegant, satisfying presentation. This dish is so popular that Donald Link, my partner and the chef at Herbsaint, couldn’t take it off the menu even if he wanted to. If you are serving this for a dinner party, make the grits the day before or in the morning, and the rest of the dish will come together quickly that night.

This recipe is based on the much-loved Spanish dish called Gambas al Ajillo, or shrimp with garlic. The basil is not a traditional ingredient, but I like how its fresh flavor pairs with the sweet, garlicky shrimp. Smoked Spanish paprika, or pimentón, has a unique flavor and is well worth tracking down. You can find it at most specialty food stores, or in Latin markets. It’s typically much cheaper at the latter.

The easiest way to core a pineapple is to quarter it and then slice off the tip of each wedge, as illustrated below.

Saltimbocca, a classic Roman dish, provided the inspiration for this recipe. In our variation we replaced the traditional veal cutlets with chicken.