I can smell the chicory-laced coffee and feel the damp muggy air hug my body so tightly that each breath is labored. Dappled sunlight dances across the faces of patrons eating in the courtyard. Overhead trellises of vines enclose the tables emulating the feel of outdoor booths. Jazz brunch buffet at The Court of Two Sisters in New Orleans is a sumptuous marriage of South Louisiana delectables and melodies.

Donnie and I were newlyweds on our first visit to the long-standing establishment on Royal Street. I was attending a pharmacy conference, and–lucky for me–Donnie was able to tag along. We stayed an extra couple of days to soak up the New Orleans culture. Sipping on a mimosa, I perused the unbelievable buffet that spring morning. Omelets-to-Order, Grits and Grillades, Shrimp Etouffee, Creole Jambalaya, Boiled Crawfish, Bananas Foster and Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce lined the serving stations. Ah, the guilty pleasure of drinking champagne and eating etouffee at 11am. Of course, it wouldn’t be a trip to New Orleans without indulging in a little of both.

French toast is one of Donnie’s favorite Saturday morning treats. This particular Saturday morning as I wipe the syrup off Jack’s face and hands, I am reminded of that trip to New Orleans. The smile on Jack’s face is reason enough to enjoy Pain Perdu at home instead of leaving the boys for a New Orleans weekend these days. And even though we usually have one choice for breakfast at home instead of endless possibilities, this never disappoints.

Pain Perdu (Lost Bread) or French Toast

1/2 c butter

1 c brown sugar

2 T maple syrup

6 (1-inch thick) slices French bread

5 eggs

1 1/2 c milk

1 t vanilla

1/4 c freshly squeezed orange juice

blueberries, optional

maple syrup

Combine butter, brown sugar and syrup in a microwave-safe bowl. Microwave on high for 1 minute. Stir and microwave an additional 30 seconds or until butter is melted and mixture is smooth. Pour into a 13 x 9-inch baking dish. Arrange bread slices in a single layer atop butter mixture. Whisk together eggs, milk, vanilla and orange juice. Pour over bread. Refrigerate, covered, overnight. Bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes or until golden brown. Garnish each serving with blueberries and drizzle with syrup.

I first learned to crave these tightly wrapped grape leaf packages my freshman year at LSU. I pledged Kappa Alpha Theta and became friends with a girl from South Louisiana, Kayla, whose father is Lebanese. North and South Louisiana might as well be two states. So many times I would rattle off something and see Kayla’s puzzled expression. That first year we quizzed each other about everything. What seemed “normal” to each of us was strange and unusual to the other! I always say that college is not really about English or Calculus but about realizing the world is bigger than our comfortable little boxes. One of our favorite things to do on a weeknight (when we should have been studying for countless exams) was to make the trek from the sorority house to the Mom and Pop Greek diner right off campus. For Kayla it was a taste of home. For me it was a trip to places unknown.

If that was an introduction, my first trip to Kayla’s home in New Iberia was a full course in Lebanese treats. Kayla and I were excited about our upcoming long weekend. We both made plans to return home. My plans were foiled by a once-every-ten-years ice storm making travel home impossible, so Kayla invited me to spend the weekend with her family. Her mom prepared a feast for us that night. I remember waking up the next morning and opting for leftovers instead of breakfast.

Years later I found this recipe for dolmades. I made them first in our apartment in Memphis almost ten years ago. To this day they taste almost like I remember at Kayla’s that winter night.

Dolmades with Tzatziki

1 1/2 cups long grain white rice, uncooked

1 small yellow onion, minced

1/4 c fresh dill, chopped

1/3 c freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/4 c olive oil

1 (16 oz.) jar preserved grape leaves, rinsed and drained

Combine rice, onion, dill, lemon juice and 1 T olive oil. Arrange grape leaves vein sides up and stems toward you. Place one tablespoon of filling at the stem end of each leaf. Fold stem end over rice, fold in sides, and roll into cylinders. Arrange grape leaves in a saucepan so that they fit snugly against each other and the sides of the pan. Place a heavy plate or lid over grape leaves so they are compact when cooked. Cover with boiling water. Replace lid and simmer on low heat for 1 hour. Remove from heat and allow to sit for 30 minutes. Refrigerate several hours before serving at room temperature with tzatziki.

Tzatziki

1 hothouse cucumber, seeded

1 T salt

1 c Greek yogurt

1/4 c sour cream

1 T freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 T olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 T fresh dill, minced

Grate the cucumber. Sprinkle with 1 T salt and set aside for 3 to 4 hours. Transfer to dish towel and squeeze dry. Stir together remaining ingredients. Add cucumber. Refrigerate several hours before serving.

One taste. That’s all it takes to rewind the clock. Part of my cooking obsession stems from recreating a moment. Go ahead. Label me sentimental. When we were in the planning stages of building this house, I insisted upon a closet right by the front door (in case of fire…grab the kids, grab the pics) to store our photos, scrapbooks and other memorabilia. I have always been intent upon recording tiny details that are easily forgotten. Before Jack came along, I scrapbooked every event…from the monumental to the mundane. Jack gets a kick out of looking at my scrapbooks, and I treasure reading the stories contained in those pages over and over. I remember our neighbor, Julia Odom, dragging out her old high school yearbooks for Katie and me to peruse. She would describe her classmates to us, recalling random facts as she looked through the books with us. For Katie and me it was an education about a time we knew nothing about…the 1920s. We were in elementary school and did not realize we were gaining a live history lesson.

These Over-the-Top Texas Fries remind me of our Friday nights out on the town while living in Memphis in early 2000 (hardly the roaring 1920s, but the beginning of our history!)  I would wait impatiently for Donnie to return from work on Friday. I hardly saw him during the week. He worked such long hours. We hit a new restaurant every weekend. I remember this Friday night in particular. The weather was absolute perfection as we sat at a bistro table under twinkling white lights and sipped cocktails. It was brave to order Tex-Mex in Memphis, but we nibbled on these amazing home fries at that little cafe. Thin and crispy on the outside, creamy in the center. Who could resist? Did I mention the little spuds were cooked in bacon fat? Mmmmm.

Over-the-Top Texas Fries

Fry 12 slices bacon in a large skillet. Drain on paper towel-lined plate and crumble. Reserve bacon fat. Thinly slice 10 tiny red boiled or baked new potatoes. Fry in batches until crisp on both sides. Drain on paper towel-lined plate. Plate the potatoes and garnish with shredded cheddar cheese, sour cream, chopped cilantro and crumbled bacon.

What better way to welcome a new baby into this world than throwing a party? Showers are steeped in tradition here in the Deep South. Tiny finger sandwiches, cheese straws, Methodist church punch. Dainty white invites, silver serving trays, crystal stems and pristine white table linens. Artfully arranged vibrant flower bouquets, carefully wrapped packages. Mothers and daughters. Lots of laughter and reminiscing. My mom was honored at a baby shower in the 70s where Donna Ewing served this Hot Sherried Fruit. Over the years it has become a family favorite.

In fact this was the first recipe I made for guests as a new bride. Donnie invited his boss, Bino, and his wife over to our humble Maple Street apartment for dessert weeks after we returned from our honeymoon. I served scoops of vanilla ice cream in individual ramekins and spooned the fruit and its juices over each serving.

I think you’ll like it, too, for any occasion. The sherry and brown sugar stream over the ice cream, forming a warm pool around the fruit. Each bite delivers comfort and warmth followed by the refreshing cool of the ice cream. During the summer months, use fresh peaches, blueberries and plums. You could also serve this for brunch sprinkled with a nutty granola topping.

Hot Sherried Fruit

1 medium can sliced pineapple rings

1 medium can peach halves

1 medium can pear halves

1 medium can apricot halves

Sauce:

1/2 c butter

2 T flour

1/2 c brown sugar

1 c sherry

Drain fruit and arrange in layers in a 2 quart baking dish. Set aside. Melt butter in a saucepan. Add flour, stirring until smooth. Add brown sugar and sherry. Continue cooking until thickened. Pour over fruit. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.