IF THERE IS ONE PLACE in the whole U S of A that is defined by a kick-back-and-relax mind-set, it is the Gulf Coast. This is where fun comes to have a good time. This is where Jimmy Buffett’s Parrotheads were born and continue to thrive in the joyous recognition of simple, natural beauty. Forrest Gump might be considered the mayor here, always in pursuit of perfect shrimp, where the sweet breezes off the gulf bring everyone dreams of oysters, po’ boys, and gumbo. There is a simplicity of culture and a pursuit of happiness that is unique. Half of it is because of the remarkable climate and landscape, and the other half is because of the people who boat, fish, dance, sing, cook, and reflect on their good fortune to live in paradise.
In Louisiana, the Cajun and Creole cultures brim with the music and the delicious cooking redolent of the bayou and the city: the trinity of the sofrito and the mystery of the voodoo queen all wrapped into one undeniably magnetic culture. I can think of no other town in the entire U.S. that has as much unique and region-specific flavor packed into one place as New Orleans. My chef pals there include my brother Emeril Lagasse, Donald Link and Stephen Stryjewski, John Besh, Susan Spicer, Tory McPhail, Alon Shaya, John Folse, and Sue Zemanick—they all practice the culinary arts like alchemists and wizards, at once playing the music of respect for the ancient traditions of gumbo and jambalaya and crawfish etouffee while pushing the edge of innovation. Chefs and home cooks alike know the importance of their roots and suffer no loss of street cred when they do not reinvent the wheel every day just for reinvention’s sake.
Roadside treasures in the Gulf Coast include PO’ BOYS, FISH-FRY SHACKS for sandwiches and baskets, BOUDIN TO GO, and oddly enough, DRIVE-THRU DAIQUIRI STANDS!
The undeniable wealth of traditional ingredients like Apalachicola oysters, gulf shrimp, sassafras, andouille sausage, tasso ham, catfish, crawfish, redfish, kumquats, persimmons, and boudin make it easy as pie to write and cook a menu that celebrates just about everything good in life on the Gulf Coast.
Traveling around the coast of Florida starts in Miami, through the Keys and then up to Tampa and St. Pete. I go from stone crab claws for breakfast in Miami, into fried grouper sandwiches on St. Pete Beach for lunch and key lime pie for dessert, then head up the coast on my way to oysters Rockefeller and bread pudding in the panhandle.
The entire Gulf Coast seems to enjoy a high level of culinary technique. Just about every “Bubba” or “Moon Doggie” or “Gopher” I have ever met can filet a fish, fry a hushpuppy, and make a damn good gumbo with what looks like very little effort. It may be a natural gift, but it’s also because cooking here has always been for fun and pleasure, and almost never out of duty. Get-togethers are as much about the making of stuff as about the eating and drinking of it, so I suggest just joining in and cooking!
MAKES 24 TO 30 BEIGNETS
The French brought the fried dough concept to New Orleans in the 1700s, and doughnuts, as the rest of the country knows them, evolved later. You’re going to want a nice, strong cup of cafe au lait with this, and they’ll taste even more delicious if you sit outside at an ornate, cast-iron bistro table with a Dixieland jazz soundtrack, sometime after 3 a.m.
1 envelope (2¼ teaspoons) active dry yeast
½ cup warm water, about 110°F
1 large egg, beaten
1 cup milk
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
¼ cup granulated sugar
½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
½ teaspoon kosher salt
4 cups all-purpose flour
Canola or corn oil for frying
Copious amounts of confectioners’ sugar
In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in the warm water. When it begins to foam, add the egg, milk, melted butter, granulated sugar, nutmeg, and salt and stir to combine. Mix in the flour until a dough forms. Cover with a towel and let rise for an hour or 2, or refrigerate overnight.
In a large, heavy pot or Dutch oven, heat about 2 inches of oil to 375°F.
Dust a work surface with flour and roll out the dough to about ½ inch thick. Cut into about 2 dozen 2-inch squares. Working in batches, fry the beignets for 1 to 2 minutes per side, until just golden brown. Drain on paper towels. While they’re still warm, put 2 or 3 on a plate, shake confectioners’ sugar on them, and watch them disappear.