Gumbo z’Herbes with Fried Oysters

The first time I made gumbo, I remember wondering if there was such thing as a vegetarian version. Years later I learned that, yes, there is actually a tradition of a vegetarian gumbo. It’s called Gumbo z’Herbes or Green Gumbo. It’s less common than meat- and seafood-filled gumbos, but it came about as a type of gumbo to serve during Lent or specifically on Good Friday. I’d been thinking about making this while local greens are in season, and I finally did it, fittingly during Lent. This is more of a soup than thicker gumbos, and it’s filled with whatever greens you have on hand, herbs, green onions, and in this case, chopped turnips. The recipe I followed is from Crescent City Cooking by Susan Spicer, and every time I use this book I find more dishes from it that I need to try. I liked that she gilded the dish a bit with the addition of fried oysters. And, why not? You wouldn’t want to serve a gumbo that’s entirely virtuous, right? Naturally, it starts with the trinity of vegetables which includes onion, celery, and green bell peppers. And, this is where things get scandalous. I prefer just about any other possible color of bell pepper to green. Here, I used a mix of green and orange, and I don’t feel too guilty about it. Chef John Besh recommends red bell pepper for his etouffee; so I’m not alone in this. Now, for the turnips, I was hoping it wasn’t too late in the season to find some at the farmers’ market, and luck was on my side. At our Wednesday market, I found the cutest, little white, Japanese turnips grown by Animal Farm. The flavor is mild and lovely, and they were perfect for the gumbo. 

Although this is a Lenten, vegetable-based kind of gumbo, the recipe does call for chicken stock. I made some vegetable stock to use instead. To begin, you need to make a roux in a wide, heavy pan like a Dutch oven, and making roux is one of those cooking-related tasks that I really enjoy. I love watching the color slowly transform from beige to brown while stirring and stirring. For this recipe, the roux was taken to a peanut butter color. At that point, the trinity of finely chopped onion, celery, and bell pepper was added. Next, finely chopped garlic, those lovely little chopped turnips, and some chopped green onions were added and allowed to cook for about five minutes. For the greens, I used washed and torn kale leaves and spinach leaves along with the leaves from the turnips. All the greens nearly overflowed from the pan, but they cook down in no time. Once the greens were wilted, thyme leaves and file powder were added followed by the vegetable stock. The stock was added slowly, brought to a boil, and reduced to a simmer. A bouquet garni of parsley stems, a bay leaf, and thyme sprigs was added to the stock, and it was left to cook for an hour. If you’re making the fried oysters, the oyster liquor can be added, and Worcestershire sauce is suggested for seasoning as well. To make the oysters, they were first dusted with cornmeal and then quickly fried just until golden. The oysters I brought home for this were tiny, so they only cooked in the hot oil for about two minutes. The gumbo was served with white rice, the fried oysters, some extra chopped green onions, and hot sauce on the side. 

I now know that regardless of the main ingredient in a gumbo, it’s always a fun and delicious dish. The trinity cooked in a brown roux never fails, and I never get enough of liberally dousing a gumbo with Crystal hot sauce. The greens and turnips cooked to a completely tender state and took on the flavors of the herbs and aromatics. I still love a good seafood gumbo, but I think this vegetable version, with or without the oysters, deserves more attention than it gets. 

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The World is Your Oyster

Shucking oysters had been on my list of cooking-related things I wanted to learn or attempt. Of course, I'd seen it done many times. Still, I was sure that unless someone stood there and showed me exactly what to do, I would end up cutting off my thumb or something like that. Last week, I had my chance at the oyster class at Central Market Cooking School which I attended with a media pass. The class, taught by Scot Loranc, started with a lesson on shucking. We watched, learned, and then experimented. Scott explained his preference for a dull oyster knife with a slight bend at the tip of the blade. The bend makes it easier to get the knife into the hinge in the oyster shell, and it makes it less likely that you will hurt yourself if the blade slips. The oysters had already been scrubbed and placed on ice. A nice, cold oyster will be more relaxed and possibly easier to open. We each set an oyster on a folded towel with the cupped side of the oyster down and the flat side facing up. We each held our oyster in place and protected our hand with the towel. Then, it was time to pry open the shell. As the blade broke the hinge, Scot said to twist the knife "like you're riding a motorcycle." And, just like that, I learned to shuck an oyster with no damage whatsoever to my thumb.

The class attendees got some good practice while shucking several oysters, and then we enjoyed the fruits of our labor. By tasting the four different varieties we shucked raw and plain, side-by-side, the differences in taste and texture were clear. We learned that oysters from warmer waters tend to be saltier, and some have more body or heaviness than others. My favorite variety of the night was the Malpeque oysters from Canada. After shucking and tasting, it was time to cook.

First, we prepared a baked, scalloped oyster dish served in ramekins. We whipped up a Mornay sauce with Gruyere which was layered in each ramekin with raw oysters, cracker crumbs, and more shredded cheese on top before being baked. The dishes emerged browned on top and bubbly. This would be a great spring brunch dish, and it could be tweaked in all kinds of ways like by adding asparagus tips or other types of shellfish.

Next on the menu was Oysters Foch which is a classic dish from Antoine's in New Orleans. Needless to say, it's a rich dish with a serious sauce. It's called Colbert sauce which is a combination of two other sauces. First, a Hollandaise was made, and Chef Scot showed us his preferred technique for it. Rather than setting up a double-boiler, he whisks the egg yolks and lemon juice in a stainless steel bowl while repeatedly moving the bowl onto and then off of a burner with a low flame. Once it started to thicken, melted butter was slowly added while continuing to move the bowl on and off the heat. It's a quicker method than using a double-boiler, but you have to be sure the eggs don't get too hot at any point. The finished Hollandaise was added to a French-Creole tomato sauce that had been thickened with a roux, and sherry was added to the combined sauces. The last ingredient is one that, honestly, I would skip. Antoine's prefers to add some caramel coloring to deepen the brown of the sauce. The completed Colbert sauce was kept warm while oysters were fried and toast points were schmeared with pate. The dish was presented with the toast with pate topped with fried oysters and the sauce drizzled over them. It was a decadent taste of New Orleans to end the night. I left the class with a new appreciation for the folks who prep those clean and lovely-looking, perfectly shucked oysters on the half shell at restaurants and bars, but I also now have less fear of prepping a few for myself from time to time.

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Oysters With Spicy Garlic Butter

I’m trying to remember how I chose this oyster dish to start our Christmas Eve meal last week. There’s an entire chapter devoted to oysters in John Besh’s My New Orleans, and I wanted to make every single recipe. I believe I decided to try this one first just because it’s so incredibly easy and it wouldn’t keep me in the kitchen for long. The oyster gratin could also have been served as an hors d’oeuvre with the breadcrumb topping applied to each half shell, and it wouldn’t have taken much longer. The oyster and artichoke soup could have mostly been prepared in advance and would have been delicious. The crispy fried oyster salad was another option, but I’d love to get some Louisiana caviar to present that dish properly. And, that’s just some of the oyster chapter. The book is divided seasonally starting with crawfish and Mardi Gras dishes, moving on to feast days and shrimp season, then fish followed by summer vegetables and crab season. There’s a chapter for gumbos and one for Thanksgiving, one for pork since Chef Besh raises his own hogs, and a final chapter for Reveillon or the feast served on Christmas Eve. It’s a beautiful book, and I’m enjoying cooking from it.

For these oysters, the intention was to grill them to impart some smokiness, but I was too lazy for that. I broiled them instead. A compound butter was made with garlic, crushed red pepper flakes, chopped chives, thyme leaves, and lemon juice. Slices of that butter were placed on top of each shucked oyster in its half shell, and then the oysters were broiled for a few minutes until they started to curl. They went from broiler to plate to our mouths in minutes.

These were simply fresh, spicy, and garlicy, and I should have made a dozen or so more than I did. I can’t wait to taste them off the grill when I make this again. I’ve tried a couple of other things from the book including the fall greens salad with blue cheese and pumpkin seed brittle. The vinaigrette with sherry vinegar and walnut oil was nutty and lovely with the blue cheese and cayenne-spiced pepita brittle. Also, the green tomato and pepper jam was sweet, tart, spicy, and just what some goat cheese on crostini needed. I’m already looking forward to Mardi Gras and strawberry season and all the other reasons to use this book throughout the coming year.

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Cornmeal-crusted Oyster and Black-eyed Pea Salad with Jalapeño Dressing

In addition to the tuna muffuletta, I also tried this oyster and black-eyed pea salad from Crescent City Cooking. I happen to really enjoy oysters on the rare occasions when I have them. Fresh from the water and served raw with a little vinegary sauce or hot pepper sauce or fried crisp with any kind of coating, they’re a delight. Mardi Gras weekend was a perfect time to bring some home and make them the highlight of a dish. Despite having said that, this salad is well worth making even if you’d prefer to omit the oysters. The black-eyed pea salad and jalapeño dressing worked beautifully together, and the dressing had me smiling long before it was all composed.

Even though it’s my preference to use fresh jalapeños, I followed the instructions here which called for the pickled variety. I assumed the pickledness would contribute to the acidity level of the dressing, which it did, and it all worked out well. Garlic, pickled jalapeños, and dijon were pureed together. Then, salt, hot sauce, Worcestershire, and apple cider vinegar were added. Finally, olive oil was slowly poured in as it emulified. Minced shallot and minced pickled jalapeño were stirred into this mixture which I will now be making for everything I can think to pair with it. Here, it was tossed with black-eyed peas with sliced scallions and diced red bell pepper. The center of the salad was a combination of julienned celery root, a task made much quicker and easier with a Benriner, and chiffonaded spinach leaves. The julienned celery root was first brought to a boil in salted water with some lemon juice. Once drained and cooled, it was tossed with the spinach.

Then, it was time to fry those lovely, fresh Gulf oysters. They were dusted with cornmeal seasoned with cayenne, thyme, parsley, and salt and pepper. Just a few minutes in the hot oil turned them into crunchy wonders. The assembly involved a mound of spinach and celery root circled about by the black-eyed pea salad all of which was crowned by the oysters and then drizzled with the remaining dressing. After this meal, I decided there need to be more holidays that inspire this kind of cooking, or I need to plan another visit to New Orleans.

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