Story, photos and recipes by Cynthia Nobles

Over the past 30 years Brandt Robin has seen momentous changes in the vegetable growing business. Not all of them have been good. But demand for such delights as locally grown corn, tomatoes, and strawberries has skyrocketed, which makes his numerous production headaches worthwhile.

Brandt Robin and his wife, Jamie, own Robin Farms, just north of Church Point, where they grow a cornucopia of vegetables that they sell directly to the public. He’s from Judice and she’s from Carencro. The pair fatefully met at a high school FFA convention, and they married in 1999. 

Brandt is passionate and knowledgeable about farming produce, and for 6 years, he was president of the Louisiana Fruit & Vegetable Growers Association. On a recent visit to his fields, he told me he caught the farming bug from his grandfather, a successful rice grower. In the sixth grade, Brandt began raising vegetables on 4 acres.

“These days Jamie and I plant 30 acres. And we do it 2-3 times a year.”

Brandt is particularly proud of his tomatoes. He plants over 2,000 tomato seedlings at a time. Some of those plants produce into January. “Seven times I’ve made 40 pounds per plant,” he said. I asked if any particular kind of tomato is so robust, and he said his high-yielding varieties were all different. “It’s all in knowing how to grow them.”

His vigorous tomato plants grow through black plastic, which helps keep the soil warm. Brandt reminds me that tomatoes thrive in heat. “When the temperature hits 92 degrees,” he says, “I irrigate twice a day. That best utilizes the fertilizer. That’s when I really start producing.” The plastic also helps speed the ripening process, and he says that 72-day tomatoes can be ready to pick in 60 days

To keep all those tomato plants upright, Brandt uses his own staking system, which differs from the Florida Weave, the common support standard used by most large-scale tomato growers. The Florida Weave involves driving stakes between every other plant and sandwiching the plants between two walls of twine that are woven around the stakes. For Brandt, breaking this cumbersome apparatus down takes too much time. “I don’t weave twine through the plants,” he says. “I tie the string on the same side of the poles.” As the plants grow, he ties on more string, all on the same pole sides. “That way it’s much easier to break everything down.” 

In season, the Robins grow a wide variety of other produce, and customers line up early to buy it. A few root vegetables they sell are freshly-dug Irish potatoes, onions, and turnips. In the summer, they specialize in strawberries, okra, cabbage, cauliflower, sweet corn, melons, eggplant, cucumbers, and a rainbow of peppers. This year, Jamie is even growing zinnias.

I asked him about the challenges he faces growing such diverse, time-consuming crops. “Believe it or not,” he said, “one of my most frustrating problems is that seed breeders give me plants that people don’t necessarily want.” 

He used cucumbers as an example. “Seed companies are pushing lots of pickling cucumbers. ‘Dasher II’ used to be a customer favorite, but I can’t get it anymore. Now I have to plant different cucumbers, and they don’t have names, only numbers.” To solve part of that problem, he keeps seed from year to year. 

Another complication, he says, is that many newer plant varieties produce concentrated fruit sets. “That means that everything ripens at the same time and causes price glitches. The market gets overloaded and produces lower prices nationally.” One way he combats that problem is to use white plastic around selected plants. White reflects the sun and keeps soil cooler, thereby slowing down ripening times.

He also mentioned a problem that plagues most farmers. “Dependable labor is hard to find.” Growing high-quality produce requires that the vast majority of the planting, picking, and cleaning all be done by hand. “I’ve got good help right now,” he said. “But lots of times employees only last a day.”

He also shakes his head at the thought of high diesel fuel prices. “Fertilizer is so expensive. All the commercial products we need to keep our plants healthy are sky-high. And I don’t think they’re as effective as they were in the old days. All these obstacles,” he says, “are why there’s only a handful of major vegetable growers left in Louisiana. Not long ago there were a couple of hundred.”

As we surveyed a gigantic greenhouse and the farm’s straight, neat rows of varied heights of green foliage, the conversation turned to production practices. Brandt went to UL (then, USL), and in 1998 received a degree in Agribusiness. Immediately it became obvious that he approaches farming with the mindset of a chemist. 

“Getting high yields is a science,” he said. “I have to balance the weather, nutrients, soil PH, and water needs.” 

The Robin farm has 7 different types of soil, and Brandt pays extra attention to soil health and composition. “I take soil samples twice a year,” he says. “Before and after I plant. It’s critical to have the right PH and fertility levels.” 

He also puts high value on micronutrients. One example is an experiment he conducted using boron. In small amounts, this element is necessary for the plant cell growth, and Brandt stresses that it is important for producing high-quality tomatoes.  

​“I started with 1 pound per acre, and that was way too low,” he said. He then tried 2 pounds, and that took him to the other end of the spectrum. “I finally learned that for my soils, 1½ pounds of boron is optimum.” 

For watering, he uses micro irrigation, a low-pressure, low-flow-rate type that reduces the likelihood of overwatering. “I check the PH value of the water. And I time the watering properly; timing is very important.”

The result of the Robins’ hard work is an astonishing variety of fruits and vegetables that outshine anything you’ll find in a supermarket. Aside from a few specialized deliveries, the couple strictly sells to the public from their farm. If you want some of their just-picked produce, check out their posted opening hours on Facebook (Robin Farms), or call 337-789-3776. Address: 317 Houston Richard Road, Church Point.
 

 
Do you have a Louisiana agriculture story or a recipe you’d like to share? Contact me at noblescynthia@gmail.com
 
Cynthia Nobles is the cookbook editor for LSU Press and the author/co-author of several historical cookbooks, including A Confederacy of Dunces Cookbook, The Delta Queen Cookbook, and The Fonville Winans Cookbook.
 
 
 
Watermelon Salad
Makes 6 servings
 
¼ cup canola oil
3 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
¼ teaspoon salt
⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
6 cups seeded watermelon, cut in 1-inch pieces
1 cup crumbled feta cheese
¼ cup finely chopped red onion
 
1. Make a dressing by whisking together the oil, mint, lime juice, salt, and cayenne. Set aside.
2. On a rimmed serving platter or shallow casserole dish, arrange watermelon pieces and top with feta and chopped onion. Drizzle dressing over everything, and serve immediately.
 
 
 
 
 
Broiled Tomatoes
Makes 4 servings
 
This simple dish is great alongside grilled steak.
 
2 large, firm ripe tomatoes
2 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and ground black pepper
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons minced fresh basil or oregano
 
1. Position an oven rack 6-8 inches below your broiler, and preheat the broiler to high. Lightly oil a baking pan, or line it with parchment paper. 
2. Cut the tomatoes in half horizontally. Cut side up, arrange tomatoes in the prepared baking pan. Drizzle the tops with olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle on the cheese and basil.
3. Broil until the tops bubble briskly and begin to brown, about 5-8 minutes. Serve warm.
 
 
 
Smothered Okra and Tomatoes
Makes 4 servings
 
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 cup chopped onion
1 pound sliced fresh or frozen okra
1 tablespoon white vinegar
1½ cups chopped fresh, seeded tomatoes, or canned diced or crushed, with liquid
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
 
1. In a heavy-bottomed pot, add oil and sauté onion over medium heat until golden, about 5 minutes.
2. Stir in okra, vinegar, tomatoes, salt, and black pepper. Turn heat to low and cook, covered, until okra is tender, about 30 minutes. Stir occasionally to keep from sticking. 
3. Remove from heat and let sit, covered, 10 minutes. Serve hot.
 
 
 
Zucchini and Yellow Squash Sauté
Makes 4 servings
 
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, halved and sliced thinly
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 medium zucchini, cut into ¼-inch slices
2 medium yellow squash, cut into ¼-inch slices
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh basil, mint, or parsley
1 teaspoon Creole seasoning
 
1. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and stir 30 seconds.
2. Add the zucchini and squash and sauté until just tender and beginning to brown, about 8 minutes. Sprinkle with basil and Creole seasoning and cook another minute. Serve warm. 

Story, photos and recipes by Cynthia Nobles 

Story, photos and recipes by Cynthia Nobles 

I’ve always thought it crucial that Louisiana’s youngsters learn about our state’s historical dishes and about the crops we grow that go into them. So does Consumer Sciences teacher Melissa Alleman. Melissa has been teaching at Iota High School for 7 years, and she is keenly aware that the younger generation is responsible for carrying on our unique food traditions. 

Many of her students come from farming families. “Lots of them live on rice and crawfish farms,” Melissa says. “Some are tied to the cattle and shrimp industries.” For these reasons, she teaches different ways to prepare what they raise and harvest. 

​She invited me to watch a class she was teaching that focused on an important Louisiana crop, sugar. That day her students were making quick, simple king cakes. I tagged along as she meandered around her room full of sinks, stoves, and tables. Sparkling clean countertops were dotted with containers of colored sugars, icing, and plastic babies. At each stove, teenaged girls and guys were stretching canned cinnamon roll dough into ropes, as they merrily talked. 

“I’m happy to hear them chattering,” Melissa said. “They’re socializing, and not on their phones.”

She answered a student’s recipe question, then mentioned to me a fall class she’d taught on wild game processing. She added, “Right before Easter I teach how to dye eggs. And we discuss the Cajun tradition of pocking.” 

Melissa grew up in Rayne and began teaching in 1995, after she graduated from UL (at the time, USL). She explained that was also the year after most schools in the U.S. formally changed the class title of Home Economics to Family and Consumer Sciences.

Melissa’s credentials also include a ServSafe certification, and she certifies interested students. ServSafe is a National Restaurant Association training program that maintains restaurant safety standards. After Melissa’s students pass the certification test, they have met Louisiana’s legal teenage requirements to work in a restaurant as a ServSafe Food Handler.

Although I was there to learn about her focus on Louisiana cooking, Melissa reminded me that her class is about more than food preparation. Lectures added since my own high school years in “Home Ec” are talks on relationship building, family life, and parenting. Of course, there’s still sewing lessons, but gone are the days of painfully stitching together lined coats that no one would dare wear in public. Instead, she teaches basics that students will actually use, like hemming, patching, and sewing on buttons. (What I would have done for a teacher like Melissa.)

Practicality also dominates her cooking philosophy. “I don’t teach how to make cakes from scratch,” she says. “No one will go home and do that. Instead, we cook dishes these kids will actually make and eat.” Many of her recipes, like king cakes, start with convenience foods that can easily be doctored to taste homemade. “These days parents work. So I give my students easy recipes they can prepare on their own.”

One big exception to shortcut cooking is a 4-day lab she conducts on Louisiana’s “state cuisine,” gumbo. Day 1 is for making roux. On day 2, students simmer the roux in water with chopped onion, and they make that must-have side dish, potato salad. Day 3 is when chicken is added and thoroughly cooked, and on day 4, they add sausage, adjust seasonings, and cook rice.

Not all of Melissa’s recipes are for Louisiana food. But a large portion are, and those dishes typically come with a history lesson. “For example,’ she says, “I do a lab on rice, and we learn how it came to Louisiana. We also have rice comparisons. We evaluate tastes, cooking times, and nutrition data.” 

​Many dishes lead to discussions on Creole cuisine vs. Cajun. “I talk about Spanish and African influences in Louisiana food,” she says. “And we touch on the country style way of cooking in North Louisiana, and how it differs from the customary foods of Acadiana and New Orleans.”

She tells students not to forget to read labels, and to keep nutrition front of mind. She also stresses the importance of shopping local, both to help our economy and to “know what you’re getting.” 

The class ended with proud students laying an array of small, colorful round pastries on a table. I was amazed at how fast those king cakes came together. I was also surprised at how this class (even the boys!) seemed to enjoy their work. In particular, I was impressed with the way Melissa Alleman manages to make high schoolers interested in cooking our traditional Louisiana food. 
 
 
Shrimp Etouffee 
Makes 4 servings (recipe courtesy of Melissa Alleman)
 
2 cups peeled, raw shrimp
Salt and red pepper
1 stick margarine or butter
1 large onion, chopped
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1½ cups cold water
Optional: 1 can cream of mushroom soup (better over steak or noodles)
For serving: rice, noodles, or steak, and ¼ cup chopped onion tops
 
1. Season shrimp generously with salt and red pepper and set aside.
2. In a large saucepan over medium-low heat, melt the margarine. Add the onion and cook slowly, uncovered, until onions are soft, about 7 minutes. Add shrimp and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes. 
3. Dissolve cornstarch in cold water, then add to shrimp mixture. If using cream of mushroom soup, add it now. Simmer, uncovered, 15 minutes. Season to taste with salt and red pepper. Spoon warm etouffee over rice, noodles, or steak, and sprinkle with onion tops.
 
 
 
Chocolate Syrup on Bread (Chocolate Bread) 
Makes 8-10 slices (Melissa Alleman’s mom’s recipe)
 
This old-fashioned childhood favorite is a specialty of south Louisiana.
 
1 cup whole milk
1 cup sugar
1 stick butter
½ cup powdered cocoa
8-10 slices bread
 
In a small saucepan set over medium heat, bring all ingredients, except the bread, to a boil. Stir until the mixture starts to turn creamy, about 7 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and dip the bread slices completely in the warm chocolate. Place on a platter and serve warm.
 
 
 
Mini King Cakes
Makes 5 (recipe courtesy of Melissa Alleman)
 
1 can (17.5 ounces) refrigerated Pillsbury™ Grands! Cinnamon Rolls with Original Icing 
2 tablespoons yellow colored sugar
2 tablespoons purple colored sugar
2 tablespoons green colored sugar
5 small plastic king cake babies (optional)
 
1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a cookie sheet. Set the container of icing aside.
2. Separate dough into 5 rolls. Unroll 1 piece of dough and stretch it into a rope about 18 inches long. Fold the rope in half lengthwise. Twist dough into a spiral, and shape into a circle, with the ends touching. Place on prepared cookie sheet. Repeat with remaining dough pieces, placing 2 inches apart on the cookie sheet.
3. Bake until golden brown, 20-25 minutes, depending on your oven. Spread icing on warm cakes. Sprinkle with colored sugars before icing hardens. Top each with a plastic king cake baby.

Story, photos and recipes by Cynthia Nobles 

Young whippersnappers might be surprised to learn that there actually was a time when you could not walk into anygrocery store and buy a pack of cleaned crawfish tails. More unbelievable, until the 1960s, there was no such thing as a commercial crawfish pond. 

Over the years it’s been interesting to observe the development of our crawfish industry. Louisiana’s commercial sales go back to a recorded harvest in 1880. That year crawfish farmers in natural waters hauled in 23,400 pounds, for a whopping value of $2,140. Those early crawfish overwhelmingly came from Atchafalaya Basin swamps, where production depended on the whims of water levels. During that time some rice farmers did flood off-season fields to coax the little critters out. But anything they caught was used for home consumption.

The idea of selling peeled tails began shortly after farmers began flooding rice fields for commercial production in the early 1960s. Both practices exploded in the 1980s, when rice prices plummeted and farmers looked for other ways to make income.

Crawfish salesman Lionel Hayes of Henderson is widely considered the father of the modern processed tail meat industry. The story goes that one day Hayes had 7 sacks of live crawfish he could not sell and so asked his sisters to clean them. Hayes then offered the peeled tails to the owners of Don’s Seafood Restaurant in Lafayette, and they enthusiastically bought them. The crawfish processing business was thus born.

Today, Louisiana produces 90 percent of domestic crawfish, with more than 1,600 farmers working some 260,000 acres of artificial ponds. About 800 farmers harvest from natural wetlands. The industry employs about 7,000. LSUAg Center projections for 2022 show that we will harvest nearly 150 million pounds. Annually, crawfish contributes over $300 million to our economy.

Crawfish have been burrowing in our state’s mud for millions of years, and were an important part of Louisiana’s Native American diet. The Houma tribe, in particular, had high opinions of this indigenous crustacean. It is widely believed that the name “Houma” is an abbreviation of the word “saktcihomma,” meaning “red crawfish.” The Houma revered the little critter so much that the crawfish was their war emblem. 

​A fanciful Cajun legend goes that when the exiled Acadians sailed to Louisiana from Canada, their beloved lobsters followed them on land. After making the long trek, the lobsters lost weight. Those travel weary and now smaller lobsters became known as écrevisse, crawfish.

Crawfish gained universal fame in 1960, when the town of Breaux Bridge was named “the Crawfish Capital of the World.” Crawfish earned more prestige in 1983, when Louisiana became the first to name a state crustacean, the crawfish. More formal recognition came in 2015, when our Legislature passed a resolution recognizing April as “Louisiana Crawfish Awareness Month.”

At my family’s Acadia Parish rice farm, crawfish are as ubiquitous as rain. We kids naturally spent every spring sloshing barefoot through gooey, muddy rice fields to catch them. 

The bait of my childhood was raw, bloody melt, beef spleen. Our lift nets, also known as carrelets, were made from squares of cotton netting tied beneath four long wires that connected at the top. We raised them up with bamboo poles. My two brothers wouldn’t flinch at whatever appeared in the nets along with the crawfish. We five sisters, on the other hand, would stifle screams while bravely pulling up creatures such as squirming tadpoles and coiled snakes. But slimy things would not stop us.

Nothing, not even ponds covered with ice or filled with fanged serpents, deterred us from catching crawfish.

For crawfish boils in those days before propane, daddy would set his mother’s gigantic old cast iron soap kettle over crackling oak logs. He loved inviting family and neighbors. Many times, guests included parish priests. 

One morning, to our surprise, three nuns from our elementary school appeared at the crawfish pond. More shocking, our teachers insisted on helping catch that day’s dinner. Since the nuns were dressed in flowing head-to-toe black, daddy gallantly laid a few boards out into the shallow pond, creating a narrow walkway. The normally demure nuns hiked up their long skirts, grabbed poles, and crept out, with water constantly splashing over their shoes and stockings.  

When it came to local crawfish commerce, I suppose my father was ahead of his time.

In the years before anyone that we knew dreamed of making big bucks from pond crawfish, Rodney LeJeune was operating a “U-Catch-It” business in one of his flooded rice fields. Every spring he hung a scale from a front yard pine tree. From it he weighed his customers’ rice sacks full of crawfish. I vividly remember the day he raised his price from 8 cents to 10 cents a pound. His profits went straight to my mother, and one year he sold enough for her to buy a new living room set. 

For reasons other than pin money, mama loved crawfish. On many a day my fingers turned raw from peeling crawfish for her unparalleled etouffee. In her later years, after her seven little crawfish peelers left home, mama occasionally gave in and bought packs of cleaned tails. She judged them suitable, but was always adamant that the best tasting crawfish came from our ponds.    
 

Do you have a Louisiana agriculture story or a recipe you’d like to share? Contact me at noblescynthia@gmail.com.
 
Cynthia Nobles is the cookbook editor for LSU Press and the author/co-author of several historical cookbooks, including A Confederacy of Dunces Cookbook, The Delta Queen Cookbook, and The Fonville Winans Cookbook.
 
 
Cold Crawfish Dip
Makes 3 cups (Best made a day ahead)
 
4 tablespoons butter
1 pound crawfish tails, with fat
1 cup finely minced onion
1 teaspoon liquid crab boil
¾ teaspoon salt
1 fresh jalapeno pepper, chopped fine
1 (12-ounce) package whipped cream cheese spread
¼ cup mayonnaise
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
3 green onions, finely chopped
 
1. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter and cook the crawfish and fat, onion, crab boil, and salt for 9 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in jalapeno and cook 1 minute. Remove from heat.
2. In a large bowl, mix together the cream cheese, mayonnaise, black pepper, and green onions. Add the crawfish mixture and mix well. Taste and add more salt and pepper if necessary. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
 
 
 
Crawfish Patty Appetizers
Makes 12 (1½-inch) pieces 
 
12 frozen mini filo or puff pastry shells
4 tablespoons butter, divided
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1¼ cups seafood or chicken stock
¼ cup finely chopped green onion (plus extra for garnish)
1 teaspoon Creole seasoning
1 cup heavy cream
¼ cup tomato sauce
¼ cup brandy or white wine
½ teaspoon paprika
1 pound crawfish tails, with fat
1 tablespoon lemon juice (plus lemon slices for garnish)
 
1. Bake pastry shells according to package directions and set aside. In a heavy, deep saucepan, melt 2 tablespoons butter over medium heat and stir in flour. Stir constantly until mixture is the color of khaki, 3-4 minutes. Carefully whisk in stock and add remaining 2 tablespoons butter, green onion, and Creole seasoning and simmer 1 minute. 
2. Add cream, tomato sauce, brandy, and paprika. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook until reduced by one-third. Stir in crawfish, bring to a simmer, and cook 10 minutes. Stir in lemon juice. If too thick, add more stock or cream.
3. Arrange pastry shells on dinner plates and spoon in the crawfish mixture. Garnish with green onion and lemon slices. Serve hot.
 
 
 
Crawfish Casserole
Makes 12 servings
 
Recipe courtesy of Cheramie Sonnier of Baton Rouge. Cheramie says that her mother created this creamy, retro one-pot meal from whatever she had on hand. It is the one thing her family still requests for holidays, when they enjoy it as a side dish.
 
2 pounds crawfish tails
1 (6-oz.) package Ben’s Long Grain and Wild Rice, including seasoning packet
2¼ cups warm chicken stock
1 (14½-oz.) can Del Monte French-style green beans, drained
1 (10-oz.) can cream of mushroom soup, undiluted
1 (8-oz.) can sliced water chestnuts, drained
1 (4-oz.) jar pimentos, drained
½ cup chopped onion
½ cup chopped celery
½ cup chopped bell pepper
¼ cup chopped parsley
¼ cup chopped green onion tops
2 cloves garlic, chopped
½ teaspoon salt
¼-½ teaspoon cayenne pepper (depends on how hot you want it)
¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
 
Preheat oven to 350°F. In a large bowl, combine all ingredients. Transfer mixture to an oiled 9x13-inch baking dish, cover with foil, and bake 1¼ hours. Remove foil and bake 15 minutes. Remove from oven, cover again with foil, and let sit 10 minutes. Serve warm. 
 
 
 
Crawfish Étouffée
Makes 4 servings
 
1 stick butter
1 large onion, chopped
1 small green bell pepper, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
2 large cloves garlic, chopped
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1½ cups seafood stock or water
½ cup tomato sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
1 pound cleaned crawfish tails, with fat
3 green onions, finely chopped
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley
For serving: hot cooked rice
 
1. In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium-high heat and sauté the onion, bell pepper, and celery until soft, 6-8 minutes. Stir in garlic and flour and cook, stirring constantly, 2 minutes. Stir in stock, tomato sauce, salt, and pepper. Lower heat to a bare simmer and cook 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.
2. Add crawfish and fat. Stir and simmer 15 minutes. Stir in green onions and parsley. Serve over hot rice. 

Story and recipes by Cynthia Nobles 

Most youngsters who raise cattle, sheep, goats, and pigs know that participating in 4-H is a good way to learn the livestock ropes and show off prized animals. Louisiana’s 4-H State President, Ty Hebert, wants to make sure that everyone eligible and remotely interested gets the chance to exhibit in 4-H show rings.

A native of Cow Island and senior at Kaplan High, Ty follows in the footsteps of his grandparents and parents, and has been showing cattle since fourth grade. He mainly shows brahmans, and is also National Vice-President of the American Junior Brahman Association. 
           
Over the years, this energetic young cattleman has amassed a sizable collection of awards. Adding to his accolades, Ty was selected as Louisiana’s first 4-H Livestock Ambassador, in 2019. That same year he spent a week studying agriculture advocacy at Texas A&M. He came home to Louisiana to start a similar program, of advancing knowledge in animal science to high schoolers. 

Through his high-profile 4-H leadership roles Ty enthusiastically reaches out to budding show cattlemen. “I try hard to encourage kids to practice good caretaking,” he says. “It’s important that children learn how to properly feed their animals. They need to focus on their animals’ health.” He also stresses that livestock champions are pampered and groomed at home, long before they set foot in the show ring. “I tell everyone,” he says, “that animals should be washed at least once a week.”

Ty also feels that networking with other 4-H participants is important. He believes that interacting with peers builds confidence, and can even make livestock more valuable. “If you’re friends with someone with a champion bull, you can use that bull with a heifer at home and make more champions. And that increases market value.”

We probably all learned in grade school that the 4-H logo design, a 4-leaf clover with H’s in each leaf, signifies, head, heart, hands, and health. 4-H started well over 100 years ago in Ohio as a local agricultural after-school club. In Louisiana, 4-H began with central Louisiana agricultural pioneer, Seaman A. Knapp, who created corn-growing clubs for young people. Knapp’s first official corn club was established in Moreauville in 1908. By 1911, corn, cotton, and pig clubs were dotting the state.

Today’s Louisiana 4-H program coordinates through the LSUAgCenter, and it is robust, with over 175,000 participants. It’s the state’s largest youth development program, and has clubs and groups in all 64 parishes. 

Louisiana’s expansive 4-H adult volunteer program helps teach many diverse youth programs, such as firearm safety, cooking, sewing, gardening, and outdoor survival. These highly-trained volunteers also teach leadership, time management, and teamwork skills, and they reach over 200,000 annually. 

Our 4-H livestock shows have been going strong more than 70 years, with top qualifiers advancing to district and state competitions. The auction sales that follow most shows give young participants yet another taste of real-life responsibility. 

Ty mentioned one particular Vermilion Parish auction that was especially meaningful. In December 2020, 10-year-old 4-H participant Kaylee McLain died in an accident on her family’s Abbeville farm. After January 2021’s livestock show, Kaylee’s show pig, Pearl, was auctioned to set up a scholarship fund for local schoolchildren. Auction proceeds were an astounding $100,000. 

Our state’s largest 4-H livestock show category is for hogs, with cattle following behind closely. In addition to sheep and goats, Ty points out that there’s also categories for poultry and rabbits. “Almost any meat and dairy-producing animal,” he said, “can be entered in today’s 4-H livestock shows.”

The glory of raising a champion steer or Rhode Island Red is laudable, but Ty thinks that youths who participate in 4-H gain something worth much more than a ribbon.

​He feels that it’s a disservice for parents not to enroll their children, because “4-H kids learn leadership skills and ethical competition. They learn public speaking and other life skills,” he said. “They are presented with untold opportunities.”

​In today’s tumultuous world, those kinds of personal benefits sound like a winner.            
            
__________________________________________________________
 
Do you have a Louisiana agriculture story or a recipe you’d like to share? Contact me at noblescynthia@gmail.com
 
Cynthia Nobles is the cookbook editor for LSU Press and the author/co-author of several historical cookbooks, including A Confederacy of Dunces Cookbook, The Delta Queen Cookbook, and The Fonville Winans Cookbook
 
 
Beef Stew
Makes 6 servings
 
This was one of my father’s favorite dishes. He called it Irish Stew, I suppose because of the potatoes.
 
1½ pounds beef chuck, cut into 1½-inch cubes
Salt, ground black pepper, and cayenne pepper
5 tablespoons vegetable oil
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 medium onion, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
1 bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
4 cups beef stock
8 ounces tomato sauce
4 cups red potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 cups fresh carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
¼ cup chopped parsley
For serving: hot cooked rice
 
1. Season beef with salt, black pepper, and cayenne and set aside. To make a roux, heat oil in a large, heavy pot over medium heat. Add flour and stir constantly until deep brown, 4-5 minutes.
2. Remove pot from heat and add onion, celery, bell pepper, and garlic. Stir 30 seconds. Return pot to medium heat and stir in stock, tomato sauce, and seasoned beef. Bring to a boil, then lower to a bare simmer. Cover and cook 1½ hours. Stir occasionally.
3. Taste stew for seasoning. Add potatoes and carrots and simmer, covered, 30 more minutes.
4. Taste again for seasoning. If too thin, simmer a few minutes without the cover. Stir in parsley and serve over hot rice.
 
 
Pork Chops with Mustard Sauce
Makes 4 servings 
 
The USDA has recently changed its guidelines for cooking whole cuts of pork — instead of an internal temperature of 160°F, 145°F with a rest time of 3 minutes is now perfectly okay. This lower threshold produces much juicier cuts of meat. To check for doneness be sure to use an instant read thermometer. 
 
4 (1¼-inch-thick) rib pork chops
Salt, ground black pepper, and paprika
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
10 ounces mushrooms, sliced
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1 cup chicken broth
2 tablespoon prepared Creole mustard, or any coarse-grain mustard
½ cup heavy cream
 
1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Pat pork chops dry and sprinkle both sides with salt, black pepper, and paprika. In a large, oven-proof skillet, heat olive oil over medium-heat heat. Sear chops until deep brown, about 3 minutes each side. 
2. Place skillet into oven and bake until pork is cooked through, when center reaches 145°F, about 7-9 minutes. Remove skillet from oven and place chops on a platter. Cover and keep warm.
3. In same skillet, melt butter and sauté mushrooms until tender, about 4 minutes. Remove pan from heat and stir in garlic. Stir in chicken broth and mustard and return skillet to medium-high heat. Simmer 3 minutes. Stir in cream and any accumulated juices from pork chops. Taste for seasoning and simmer until thick, about 3-4 minutes. Serve sauce over pork chops.
 
 
Lamb Chili
Makes 4 servings
 
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups chopped yellow onion
½ cup chopped green bell pepper
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1½ pounds ground lamb
1 (24-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
1 (10-ounce) can diced tomatoes and green chilies, undrained
1 (8-ounce) can tomato sauce
1½ cups beef stock
3 tablespoons mild chili powder
2 tablespoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon paprika
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
¼ cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 (15-ounce) can black beans, drained
For serving: grated Cheddar cheese and chopped onion
 
1. In a large pot, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Sauté onion and bell pepper until onions are brown, about 5 minutes. 
2. Stir in garlic and sauté 1 minute. Add ground lamb and cook until brown, about 5 minutes. 
3. Stir in crushed tomatoes, diced tomatoes and green chiles, tomato sauce, stock, chili powder, cumin, salt, paprika, black pepper, and cilantro. Bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer and cook 45 minutes, uncovered and stirring often.
4. Stir in drained black beans and simmer until thick, about 15 minutes. Serve chili in bowls and top with Cheddar cheese and onion. 

By Cynthia LeJeune Nobles 

​PawPaw LeJeune’s house used to be the setting for our extended family’s wintertime boucheries, hog butcherings. I remember freshly-killed pigs hanging from oak trees, big black kettles of spattering grease, and pawpaw’s wooden, tin-roofed smokehouse smelling like heaven.

​For us, the event was strictly work. Each adult was assigned a job. After every part of the pig was cooked, exhausted uncles, aunts, and cousins rounded up children and drove home with their share of pork. 
            
Modern refrigeration makes home hog-butchering unnecessary. But fortunately, many Louisianians keep the unique custom alive. One such couple is David and Lorraine Bertrand of Elton.

These high school sweethearts have been married some 45 years, and they spend most of their time managing their family rice farm. David also owns and runs a rice marketing business. In spite of their busy lives, each year in late November, they set aside a day to host a boucherie, a ritual they both grew up with. 

This day started before sunrise, and arriving guests were handed aprons. (Yes, we were expected to work!) Under the supervision of the Bertrands, their 3 grown children, and a few brothers and sisters, the first task was to hack up a 180-pound porker.

This pig was bought scraped and cleaned, but David recollects the old days of scalding and scraping off hair. His family used the “3-finger” test to determine if the water was hot enough for scalding. “If your finger can only stay in for 1 dip the water’s too hot,” he says. “For 3 dips, it’s too cold.” 

The butchering was done by folks who obviously knew how to wield a meat cleaver. But there was also a cadre of inexperienced young folks who wanted to lend a hand. The scene was a true sense of community, with the young wanting to learn butchering techniques, and the old pros more than willing to teach them. 

Early in the morning a daughter made lengths of sausage, which spent most of the day hanging over smoldering wood in a smoker. The tall, narrow tin smoker was made from a reclaimed outhouse.

David recalls that a few years ago a friend raised his hands and pressed them up against the smoker’s side. “He wasn’t making a novena to the old outhouse,” David said with a laugh. “He was checking the temperature.” David then gave me another handy boucherie tip: “Hands on the tin for 8 seconds and it’s too cold. For only 3 seconds, and it’s too hot.”

As the Bertrands’ spacious barn filled with several hundred invited guests, Lorraine told me that “almost everyone around Basile and Elton used to hold boucheries,” Accordion music was filtering in. “When David and I started having boucheries, they were small, just family,” she said, “with enough boudin and sausage for everyone to take home.” Things changed in 2006, when they expanded their guest list and turned the event into a working party. These days, there’s plenty to eat during the boucherie, but the Bertrands usually have few leftovers. 

By mid-morning one of the Bertrand children had already fried a vat of cracklins’. Another was stirring a pot of sauce picante, and one of Lorraine’s sisters had made jambalaya. On a side porch someone had cooked a batch of white beans and tasso, and one of David’s brothers and his helpers were manning a massive pit smoker full of ribs. (To feed the large crowd, the Bertrands bought extra ribs.)

Right off the porch, a huge pot of water was set over a propane fire to boil the pig’s head. Typically, meat picked off the head would be the basis for hog’s head cheese, but this particular meat was destined for boudin.

Beer kegs flowed, and well before noon, the atmosphere was sparkling. By noon, two long rows of tables were groaning with smothered greens, salads, beans, and casseroles, and every sweet imaginable, all provided by guests.  

By 2 o’clock, another of Lorraine’s sisters had rounded up a group of volunteers that stuffed boudin casings. At 3 o’clock Leroy Thomas cranked up zydeco from the bed of an old rice truck, and the barn’s dance floor quickly filled. Steaming, spicy boudin was passed around. Some of it landed inside the pit smoker alongside a football-sized ponce, also known as chaudin, which is a sausage-stuffed pig stomach.

Cooking each of the pig’s parts correctly is an important part of the boucherie process, and that knowledge is obviously being passed down verbally. No one had written directions for preparing these complicated and incredible pork dishes. “What recipe,” was the response I kept getting. “I just throw things in until it tastes right.” 

The boucherie itself was pretty much done by 4:00. But the partying was expected to go on until the wee hours of the morning. 

Although the Bertrands’ annual event is festive, it is also a serious learning experience. David and Lorraine, like me, remember when the boucherie was crucial to farm life. David in particular remembers helping his father clean the hogs, cut up the meat, and grind, stuff, and smoke the day away. “To us, preserving meat was central,” he said. “And socializing happened when everything was finished, if at all.” 

They hope their children understand the boucherie’s true origins, that it was a way of survival, and that it brought communities together. Another big wish is that the following generations carry on the tradition. 
            
 
 
 

 
Do you have a Louisiana agriculture story or a recipe you’d like to share? Contact me at noblescynthia@gmail.com
 
Cynthia Nobles is the cookbook editor for LSU Press and the author/co-author of several historical cookbooks, including A Confederacy of Dunces Cookbook, The Delta Queen Cookbook, and The Fonville Winans Cookbook.
 
 
 
Smoky Barbecued Pork Ribs
Makes 6 servings 
 
2 racks St. Louis-style spareribs (6-8 pounds total)
½ cup Creole Seasoning Mix, plus 1 teaspoon 
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter
½ cup tomato sauce
½ cup white vinegar
¼ cup dark brown sugar
¼ cup Creole mustard, or any coarse-grained mustard
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
2 cups hickory or mesquite wood chips
 
1. Work a long, slim screwdriver under the papery skin on the back of ribs, and move it along to loosen the skin. With your fingers, pull skin off. Pat ribs dry. Season each side of rib racks with 2 tablespoons dry rub. Wrap ribs in plastic wrap and refrigerate 4-24 hours.
2. While ribs are marinating, make basting sauce. In a medium saucepan, combine butter, tomato sauce, vinegar, brown sugar, mustard, salt and ground black pepper. Bring to a boil, lower heat to medium and cook, uncovered, 10 minutes. Remove from heat and cool to room temperature. If not using immediately, refrigerate up to 1 week.
3. One hour before ready to cook, remove ribs from refrigerator and soak wood chips in water. Prepare a barbecue for indirect cooking by placing lit coals against the two sides of a barbecue pit and leaving center clear, (or lighting the two outside burners of a gas grill). Toss drained wood chips onto coals (or put into a gas grill’s smoker box), and put a drip pan in between the coals. Pour a cup water in drip pan. Arrange ribs, bone side down, on the grill over the cool middle. Cover the grill and cook 1 hour.
4. Brush ribs on both sides with basting sauce. Cover grill and cook until meat shrinks back from the bone, 30-45 minutes longer, basting every 15 minutes. At the beginning of the last 15 minutes, sprinkle 1 teaspoon seasoning mix on top of rib racks, baste and leave cover open. When done, remove to a platter and allow to sit 15 minutes before serving.
 
 
 
 
Stuffed Ponce (Chaudin)
Makes 6-8 servings      
 
Ponce, or chaudin, is nothing more than a cleaned pig stomach stuffed with sausage and smoked. You can find them ready to cook at many traditional Cajun meat markets. I based this recipe on the method used by Mrs. Nita LeJeune of LeJeune’s Sausage Kitchen in Eunice. 
 
1 (1-pound) smoked, sausage-stuffed ponce
1 tablespoon cornstarch for thickening gravy
 
1. Use a fork to pierce the stuffed ponce’s skin in several places on the inside curve. Place the ponce in a Dutch oven and add enough water to come up in the pot ½ inch. Boil over high heat, allowing the water to evaporate. Let the ponce turn brown, pierce it with a fork on the inside curve again, and turn it over. 
2. Add another ½ inch water. Let the water evaporate again, and let the ponce turn brown. 
3. Add another ½ inch water and cover tightly. Lower heat to a simmer and cook until the inside registers 160°F on a meat thermometer. Turn ponce over every 20 minutes and add water as necessary to keep it at ½ inch. Should take about 3 hours.
4. Remove the cooked ponce from the pot and make a gravy with the drippings with a cornstarch and water slurry. Serve the gravy alongside slices of warm ponce.
 
 
 
Cracklin’ Cornbread
Makes 6 servings
 
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
¾ cup yellow cornmeal
¾ cup all-purpose flour
1½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk, at room temperature
2 large eggs, at room temperature
3 tablespoons melted butter
1 cup pork cracklins’, finely chopped in a food processor
 
1. Heat your oven to 400°F. Swirl the vegetable oil around the inside of an 8-inch cast iron skillet and heat in the oven until hot but not smoking.
2. Meanwhile, in a large bowl stir together the cornmeal, flour, baking powder, soda, and salt. Add buttermilk, eggs, and melted butter and mix well with a large spoon. Stir in cracklins’ and pour batter into hot skillet.
3. Bake until brown and center is set, about 20-25 minutes. Cool at least 10 minutes. Serve warm.

By Cynthia LeJeune Nobles

Back in the 1960s, many Louisiana school “lunchroom ladies” hand made their rolls, and the yeasty, pillowy bread was usually served with dark cane syrup. The bread itself tasted heavenly. But it was downright irresistible when used to mop up a pool of syrup. 

Before and through the Great Depression, much of our rural population relied on homemade syrup as their main form of sweetener. Throughout the year they cared for their own small plots of cane.

Right before the first frost they cut the cane stalks, crushed them, and boiled down the juice in their own backyard syrup houses. 

Most home-type syrup houses are gone, as well as our old-line commercial producers. But we still have Norris Syrup Company in north Louisiana, which has been selling regionally since 1924. And, of course, our state has the only large national cane syrup producer left, our much-loved brand Steen’s, which has been going strong since 1910. 

Fortunately, the back-to-the-farm movement that started back in the 1980s just keeps growing. And this love of all things local is spurring a home-pressed syrup market. Across the American South and in Louisiana, several farmers are growing small plots of cane and making syrup, and they’re doing so following traditional syrup-making methods. 

To learn how to make the sweet stuff, I traveled to St. Martinville’s historic Longfellow-Evangeline State Historic Site, where, on a crisp November morning, there was a syrup-making demonstration.

A few volunteers and staff members, such as Curator Philip Frey, were dressed in garb appropriate to the mid-1800s, when the parkland was privately owned and operated as Olivier Plantation.

Jesuit priests introduced sugarcane into south Louisiana in 1751. “In the antebellum era,” said Frey, “Olivier Plantation planted 250 acres of sugarcane. Some 25-30 slaves tended the plantation’s fields, which was backbreaking work.” Slaves worked constantly, making rows and weeding. “Then came la roulaison, grinding season. During harvest time, sugar and syrup-making could go on around the clock.”  

Although it takes time and finesse, the syrup-making process is relatively simple: boil the cane juice, constantly skim it, and, when it has evaporated into the proper thickness, pour it into jars.

For our demo, volunteer Tommy Guidry tromped into a small nearby patch of ribbon cane and slashed down a few stalks. Blue Ribbon, commonly known as ribbon cane, gets its name from banding, the “ribbons” on its dark maroon central stalk. 

“Blue Ribbon is probably the type of cane that was grown on most Louisiana sugar plantations in the 1800s,” said Guidry. “It originally came here from the Caribbean. For our little crop, we get seed cane from LSU.” 

Unlike tall modern cane varieties, ribbon cane only grows 6-8 feet tall. When higher sucrose and more disease-resistant cane varieties were developed in the early twentieth century, ribbon cane fell out of use commercially. But the super-juicy variety is still grown on small farms. 

Guidry took his freshly cut stalks, sliced them into 3-foot lengths, and ground them through a small, modern hand-cranked press about the size of a bread box. That’s quite a difference from the methods used during antebellum sugar production, when cane grinding was done by slowly circling oxen, horses, or mules that turned the gears that powered the huge metal rollers that ground mountains of cane. 

“It takes 7 or 8 healthy stalks of ribbon cane to make 1 gallon of juice,” Guidry said. He poured his freshly pressed juice into a 10-gallon cast iron pot set over a propane burner. “And it takes 7 or 8 gallons of juice to make 1 gallon of syrup.” 

Boiling down cane juice into syrup is the step before creating sugar. To make sugar in the nineteenth century, hardwood logs would have burned under three to five large sugar kettles arranged in descending size, in a “kettle train.” The largest kettle, the grande, held up to 500 gallons, and the smallest, the batterie, 70-100 gallons. As syrup boiled down and condensed in the larger kettles, it would have been transferred into smaller and then smaller kettles, which made the condensing process more efficient. It was in the final, smallest kettle that a Master Sugar Maker, almost always a skilled slave, “struck” the syrup, tested for crystallization, and then sent it on to coolers, where it evaporated into raw granulated sugar. 

To make his syrup, Guidry let the cane juice bubble gently for a few hours. He kept the temperature low to prevent scorching along the sides of the pot, which could produce burned bits. He occasionally stirred the bubbling juice and regularly skimmed off the froth.

"I’ll get out about 90 percent of the impurities by skimming,” he said. As the liquid evaporated and slowly thickened, the grayish brown liquid turned mahogany. “And I don’t strain my syrup. That’s what gives it its unique taste.”

​“Unique” is an understatement. I’d call the syrup Guidry made more like nectar. It was dark and full-flavored, and refreshingly less sweet than today’s commercial syrups. Since it wasn’t made with chemicals, it was clean-tasting, and it had only the slightest hint of molasses. 

​I left St. Martinville with a nice stash of freshly made syrup. And that made me want to rush home and bake rolls.
 
_______________________________________________________________
 
Do you have a Louisiana agriculture story or a recipe you’d like to share? Contact me at noblescynthia@gmail.com
 
Cynthia Nobles is the cookbook editor for LSU Press and the author/co-author of several historical cookbooks, including A Confederacy of Dunces Cookbook, The Delta Queen Cookbook, and The Fonville Winans Cookbook.
 
 
For all these recipes, Steen’s brand cane syrup works great. 
            
 
Cane Syrup-Glazed Pork Loin
Makes 6-8 servings
 
3 to 4-pound boneless pork loin roast, trimmed of fat
Creole seasoning
¾ cup light brown sugar
1 tablespoon Creole mustard
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
½ cup pure cane syrup, divided 
7-8 bacon slices 
 
1. Remove pork from refrigerator 1-2 hours ahead of time. When ready to cook, line a roasting pan with foil and coat a roasting rack with cooking spray. Preheat oven to 350°F. Sprinkle pork with Creole seasoning.

2. In a small bowl, mix together the brown sugar, mustard, and Worcestershire. Spread the sugar paste all over the pork. Wrap the pork with bacon slices. If necessary, secure with toothpicks. Drizzle ¼ cane cup syrup over the bacon. 

3. Set the rack over the foil-lined roasting pan and place the roast in the center of the rack. Cover with foil and bake 1 hour. Raise oven temperature to 375°. Remove foil from roast and spoon the drippings over the bacon. Cover again and bake another 15 minutes. 

4. Remove foil, baste again, and drizzle on remaining ¼ cup syrup. Bake until the center registers 140°F and the bacon is crisp, about 20 more minutes. Remove from oven and rest 10 minutes. Pour the pan sauce into a bowl and serve alongside the slices of meat.
 
 
Louisiana Gâteau de Sirop (Louisiana Cane Syrup Cake) with Cane Syrup Butter
Makes 12 servings (Adapted from a recipe by Nancy Tregre Wilson of Hahnville)
 
Nancy tells us that where she lives, on Louisiana’s German Coast in southeast Louisiana, sugar cane fields line the Great River Road that parallels the Mississippi River. When she was growing up there was never a shortage of sugar or cane syrup in any home in the region. Her dad used to tell her that when he was a child, supper was sometimes just bread, milk, and syrup.  
 
1 cup sugar
2½ sticks butter, at room temperature, divided
3 large eggs
1¾ cups pure cane syrup, plus 2 tablespoons
4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
¾ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
½ teaspoon cloves
1 cup whole milk
⅓ cup chopped, toasted pecans 
 
 
1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour a 9x13-inch pan or a Bundt cake pan.

2. In a large bowl, cream together sugar and 1½ sticks butter, about 3 minutes on medium mixer speed. Add eggs one at a time and beat well after each addition. Beat in 1¾ cups syrup.

3. Sift together flour, soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. Add flour mixture to butter mixture alternately with milk, beating well after each addition. Batter should look satiny. Pour and spread into prepared pan. Bake until cake springs back when lightly touched, about 1 hour. 

4. While cake is cooling, make the Cane Syrup Butter by melting the remaining stick of butter and mixing it with the remaining 2 tablespoons cane syrup and the pecans. Spread over warm cake. Allow cake to cool completely and serve. 
 
 
Mrs. Gaston Cart’s Syrup Pie
Makes 24 hand pies, or 1 (10-inch) pie 
 
Sweet crust syrup pies are a specialty of my hometown, Iota. They are usually made as hand pies, but some bakers make them like regular pies. This recipe version is an old one. It is courtesy of Florence Miller of Iota, who got the recipe from the Gaston and Clarise Cart family of Iota.
 
Filling
1 quart cane syrup
2 cups water
2 cups all-purpose flour
1½ cups sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon lemon juice
 
Sweet Dough Crust
4 cups all-purpose flour
1½ cups sugar
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup Crisco vegetable shortening
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
 
1. Combine all filling ingredients in a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan. Stirring constantly over medium heat, bring to a boil. Continue stirring and cook until very thick, about 5 more minutes. Cool completely, without a cover.

2. While filling is cooling, make crust. In a large bowl, mix together flour, sugar, and baking powder. Work shortening into flour mixture with your fingers. Stir in milk and vanilla and form a large ball. Divide dough in half, wrap each half in plastic wrap, and chill at least 30 minutes. 

3. To make hand pies: Preheat your oven to 350°F and line a cookie sheet with foil or parchment. On a heavily floured sheet of wax paper, roll one of the dough balls out to ¼ inch thick. Cut out 5-inch circles and place 1 heaping tablespoon syrup filling in the center of each circle. (Don’t let the filling get too close to the circles’ edges.) Fold the dough over to make a semi-circle, press edges gently with your fingers, and crimp the edges with the floured tines of a fork. Cut 3 small slits in the top of each. Repeat with remaining dough. Refrigerate assembled pies that are waiting to go in the oven. Bake until golden brown, about 20 minutes. Cool at least 30 minutes before serving.

4. To make a whole pie: Preheat your oven to 375°F. Transfer one half of chilled dough to a hard floured surface. Roll it out to fit a 10-inch pie pan and line the pan with the dough. Spread the prepared filling in the crust. Roll out the remaining dough half and fit it on top of the pie. (If you’re not doing a lattice, be sure to cut slits in the top dough.) Bake until deep golden brown, 45-55 minutes. Cool thoroughly before serving.
 
 
Louisiana Cracker Jack
Makes 3 quarts
 
The taste of this sweet, crunchy treat is much more flavorful than what you buy in the box.
 
3 quarts popped corn
1½ cups toasted, shelled peanuts
1½ cups pecan halves
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into ½-inch pieces
1½ cups light brown sugar
1¼ cups pure cane syrup
1 tablespoon white vinegar
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon baking soda
 
1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Line a sheet pan or large cookie sheet with parchment paper and set aside. Combine popped corn, peanuts, and pecans in a large bowl, and set aside.

2. In a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan, melt butter over medium heat and cook, stirring constantly, until butter just starts to turn tan. Remove from heat and stir in brown sugar, cane syrup, vinegar, and salt. Return to heat, bring to a boil, and cook, without stirring, over medium-low heat until mixture reaches 250°F, about 5 minutes.

3. Remove pot from heat, and stir in vanilla and baking soda. Pour syrup over popcorn and nuts, and stir until syrup is evenly distributed. (Be careful: syrup is extremely hot.) Spread popcorn on sheet pan and bake 15 minutes.

4. Remove from oven and stir well, making sure to scrape up and blend in any accumulated syrup. Spread popcorn evenly in pan again, and bake 15 more minutes. Remove from oven, stir well, and allow to cool. Break into pieces. Store tightly covered at room temperature up to 2 weeks.
 
 
Lunchroom Lady Rolls
Makes 16 large rolls
 
These fluffy rolls are the perfect accompaniment to cane syrup. (If you don’t have a stand mixer, mix everything by hand and knead 10 minutes. If you make half the recipe, bake in an 11x7-inch pan.)
 
2 cups whole milk
8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter, divided, plus additional for coating plan
¼ cup sugar
2 teaspoons iodized salt
2 packages (4½ teaspoons) yeast
¼ cup lukewarm water
5-6 cups sifted bread flour
 
1. In a small saucepan, bring milk to a boil. Remove from heat and add 4 tablespoons butter, sugar, and salt. Cool to lukewarm.

2. Soften yeast in the lukewarm water and add to milk mixture. In bowl of a standing mixer, combine milk mixture and 5 cups flour. With dough hook attachment, beat on low speed and add enough remaining flour to make a soft dough. Dough should come clean from sides of bowl but yet be soft. Raise mixer head to upright position and put a sheet of greased plastic wrap directly on top of dough. Let rest 10 minutes. 

3. Remove plastic wrap and knead dough on medium speed 8 minutes. Put greased plastic wrap directly on top of dough and let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, about 1½ hours.

4. Butter a 9x13-inch baking pan. Melt remaining 4 tablespoons butter and set aside. Turn dough onto a floured board and knead until surface is smooth. Divide dough into 16 equal pieces. Roll each portion into a ball, brush each ball with melted butter, and place in prepared pan. Cover with a towel and let rise until doubled in bulk, 30-40 minutes.

5. About 10 minutes before rolls have finished rising, preheat oven to 375°F. Brush rolls with remaining melted butter and bake 15 to 20 minutes, until dark golden brown. This is the hard part: Let sit at least 10 minutes before serving.
 

By Cynthia LeJeune Nobles

Although Grandma Zaunbrecher’s ham and cornbread dressing were unsurpassed, the focal point of Christmas Day was always the tinsel-laden tree in her living room. Those towering, woodsy-scented pines grew wild on my family’s forestland. It did not matter that they had long sparse needles and slightly crooked trunks — to my child’s eyes they were stunning. And most memorably, I’d tag along with my Uncle Willie to “help” cut them down. 
            
There’s something calming, almost magical about spending time in the woods. But aside from using our forests for camping, hunting, and chopping down Christmas trees, this renewable resource provides raw material for our state’s second largest manufacturing employer, the forest products industry.

Buck Vandersteen of the Louisiana Forestry Association reminds us that Louisiana has as astounding 15 million acres of forests. “Some 60 percent are privately owned by family farms,” he says, “with the average tree farm at 40 acres.” Ten percent is managed by the federal and state governments, and corporations own the remaining 30 percent. 

The northeast part of the state is home to hardwoods, such as the oak group, which is our most prevalent hardwood. Softwoods, such as pine, are predominant in the northwest part of the state and down to DeRidder. The Florida parishes also specialize in pine production, while our vast wetlands nurture the state’s official tree, the bald cypress.

​Bald cypress, which is a deciduous softwood, is in the same family as sequoias and redwoods. So, although bald cypress is technically a softwood, it is so durable, stable, and rot-resistant that it can match up to just about any oak.

The state’s most commercially important tree is the Southern Yellow Pine, which is a term used to describe a group of species made up of loblolly, longleaf, shortleaf, and slash pine. This softwood is particularly important for making building products, since it can be pressure treated against moisture retention. 

“Louisiana’s milled wood primarily goes to markets in Dallas, Houston, and California,” says Vandersteen, “as well as to ports in New Orleans and Mobile, which ship on to places such as France, Spain, and the Caribbean.”

Some wood products we make in our state include lumber, engineered wood, plywood, pellets, paper, windows and doors, and particle board. Our hardwoods and cypress are primarily used for cabinetry and for furniture, such as a spectacular handmade cypress dining table I recently bought at a store in Lafayette.

Growing trees here is big business, around $13 billion annually, with some 50,000 Louisianians working in such jobs as foresting, logging, transportation, and in mills. 

“And there’s good news concerning mills,” says Vandersteen. “After a 25-year drought with no new construction, four mills have recently announced startups.” One lumber mill is reopening in DeQuincy, and new mills are being constructed in DeRidder, Taylor (in Bienville Parish), and north of Alexandria in the town of Urania.

Urania also has the distinction of being the home to Henry Hardtner, the “father of forestry in the South.” In the 1890s, the Pineville lumberman spent lots of time trying to figure out how to grow new crops of trees in about 60 years, rather than relying on the 200-year-old-trees that had been traditionally harvested. He eventually convinced the Louisiana legislature and the largest sawmill in the world, the Great Southern Lumber Company, to establish reforestation efforts. Most of what is known about southern pine silviculture, the development and care of forests, was pioneered in central Louisiana by Hardtner and his local contemporaries.

To keep our trees growing and healthy, reforestation is incredibly important. If you own forestland don’t hesitate to ask for advice from experts at agencies such as the Louisiana Department of Agriculture, the LSU Ag Department, the Louisiana Forestry Association, the National Forest Service, and especially the Natural Resource Conservation Service. 

If you just want to kick around in the great outdoors, consider visiting a state park. Or go to one of the five ranger districts of the 604,000-acre Kisatchie Forest, Louisiana’s only national forest. While you’re there, you might want to spend time camping, fishing, swimming, boating, hunting, hiking, horseback riding, or picking up firewood. Just be sure to get permits ahead from park rangers. 

If you want a forest-fresh Christmas tree, consider going to a “Choose and Cut” Christmas tree farm. (You can find a list at www.southernchristmastrees.org). Some places cut them for you, and some allow you to chop down your own cypress, fir, cedar, or pine. Most farmers are happy to tell you how they grow their manicured rows of trees, and some farms have petting zoos and activities for children.

Unlike my grandma’s Christmas trees, the chances are excellent that the one you bring home will be straight and full. And way past December you, too, will remember the joy of picking out your own. 
 
 
 
Orange-Glazed Ham
Makes 12-14 servings
 
This old-fashioned Christmas favorite is always a hit. Even though it’s simple to put together, it looks and tastes like you worked hard making it. 
 
1(8 to 10-pound) smoked, fully cooked ham, with fat layer
Whole cloves
1 (10-ounce) jar orange marmalade
2 tablespoons orange juice or water
 
1. Score the top fat layer of ham horizontally and vertically at 1-inch intervals. Push a whole clove into each fat square. Cover ham and refrigerate until ready to bake. (Can refrigerate up to 2 days ahead.)
2. When ready to bake, take ham out of the refrigerator an hour or so ahead. Preheat oven to 325°F. Place ham on a rack over a foil-lined roasting pan and bake 1½ hours.
3. Meanwhile, combine marmalade and orange juice in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir constantly until marmalade is melted. 
4. Raise oven temperature to 350°F. Baste baked ham with half of glaze and bake 15 minutes. Spread on remaining glaze and bake 15 more minutes. Remove ham from oven and cool at least 20 minutes before slicing. 
 
 
 
Grandma Zaunbrecher’s Cornbread Dressing
Makes 8-10 servings
 
You could tell it was Christmas Day just by opening my grandmother’s front door, when the savory, meaty scent of this dressing hit you. 
 
¼ cup vegetable oil
2 medium onions, chopped small
2 stalks celery, chopped small
1 bell pepper, chopped small
2 cloves garlic, chopped small
2 cups (1 pound) ground beef
6 cups (8 slices) toasted bread
6 cups coarsely crumbled day-old cornbread
¾ cup water or chicken stock, plus more if needed
1 tablespoon poultry seasoning
Salt and black pepper
1 (4-ounce) jar chopped pimentos, drained
½ cup chopped parsley
½ cup chopped green onions
 
1. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Grease the insides of a 9x13-inch casserole dish. Heat the ¼ cup oil in a Dutch oven and sauté the onions, celery, bell pepper, and garlic until just soft, about 4 minutes. Add the ground beef and cook over medium-high until brown. Remove from heat.
2. Soak the toasted bread in water and squeeze dry. Gently stir the cornbread and soaked bread into the beef mixture. Add the water, being careful not to break up the cornbread too much. You want it moist but not wet, about the consistency of thick mud, so adjust water as needed. 
3. Add poultry seasoning and season generously with salt and pepper. Gently stir in the pimento, parsley, and green onions. Spoon into the prepared dish and bake, uncovered, until golden and crispy on top, 30-35 minutes. Serve warm.
 
 
Christmas Wine Cakes
Makes six 4-inch, or 12 baked in muffin tins (Make 1 day ahead.)
 
Throughout the 1800s, festively decorated pound cakes soaked in wine were a must on New Orleans holiday tables. You can still buy wine cakes at a few New Orleans grocery stores and bakeries, but none compare to the taste of homemade.
 
2 cups cake flour
1 teaspoon iodized salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
12 tablespoons (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups sugar, divided
4 large eggs, room temperature
¼ teaspoon ground cloves, optional
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1½ cups dark rum, divided (or port, sherry, marsala, or even wine!)
Whipped cream
6 cherries 
 
1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Generously grease and flour six 4-inch baking molds or 12 muffin tins. In a medium bowl, sift together flour, salt, and baking powder. Set aside. 
2. In a large bowl, use medium mixer speed to cream together butter and 1 cup sugar until it’s light and fluffy, 3 minutes. Beat in eggs, one at a time. Stir in cloves and vanilla. Using low mixer speed, add flour mixture and ½ cup rum to butter mixture, beginning and ending with flour. Beat until just combined. 
3. Pour batter into prepared pans until they’re ⅔ full. Level off tops. Bake on center rack until brown and center springs back when lightly touched, 40 minutes for larger cakes, and 30 minutes for muffins. Remove from oven and cool 5 minutes in pan. Remove from pans and set cakes on a rack to cool thoroughly.
4. Boil together ⅔ cup water and remaining 1 cup sugar until sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat and pour the hot liquid into a 4-cup measuring cup or equivalent shaped boil. Cool 2 minutes. Stir in remaining 1 cup rum. Completely submerge each cake into the syrup, and hold down in the liquid a few seconds. Place saturated cakes in a baking pan. Pour remaining wine syrup over cakes. Wrap pan tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.
5. To serve, arrange cakes on a rimmed serving dish, and pour remaining wine syrup over each. Top each with a spoonful of whipped cream and a cherry. 
 

By Cynthia LeJeune Nobles

I’d heard about Little Eva Pecan Company, but had never driven up to Cloutierville to check it out. Since this is the time of year I pull out dog-eared holiday recipes and stock up on pecans, I thought that now was the time to make that trip to central Louisiana.

Julie and Mark Swanson own this tranquil, 362-acre orchard, which is perched on a peninsula surrounded by the Cane River. Julie explains that their business is a family-run corporation. “We operate our warehouse and trees under the name Natchitoches Pecans. But the business is more identifiable as Little Eva.” Little Eva is the name of their retail store, a quaint wooden cabin flush with just-picked pecans, Louisiana-themed gifts, and enough types of pecan candy to satisfy any sweet tooth.    

Little Eva is part of a former 11,000-acre plantation known as Hidden Hill, which in its heyday was North America’s largest pecan orchard. The name “Little Eva” comes from the believable legend that Hidden Hill Plantation was the inspiration for Harriet Beecher Stowe’s classic anti-slavery novel, Uncle Tom’s Cabin. In the 1950s, in honor of the girl who befriended Uncle Tom in the book, the then-owners renamed the plantation “Little Eva.”

Another celebrity associated with Little Eva is the folk artist Clementine Hunter, who was born at Hidden Hill in 1886. Hunter’s valuable original paintings hang in top-end museums. But you can buy Clementine Hunter-inspired gifts at the Swansons’ Little Eva Gift Store.

None of Hidden Hill’s major original structures still exist. But on their part of the former plantation’s acreage, Julie and Mark lovingly grow many varieties of grafted pecan trees. Julie easily rattled off some of the names of their towering pecans. “Sumner, Caddo, Melrose, Lakota, and Oconee,” she said. “Lots of them are named for Native American tribes.” They also have the variety Candy, known for its use in desserts, the buttery-tasting Elliot, and the variety called Desirable, which produces a large, semi paper-shell popular for using in anything. 

With help from family members, Mark manages Little Eva’s vast alleys of trees and oversees everything from planting to shelling. He especially enjoys nurturing his trees, which he plants in symmetrical, square-patterned rows 50’x50’ apart. 

Although he has a few new varieties that produce earlier and earlier, he says that typical trees take 6 to 10 years to mature. Pecans, which are technically drupes, are members of the hickory genus and the walnut family. Trees can grow over 100 feet tall and can live well over 100 years.  

Crows and squirrels love pecans. Mark’s biggest varmint threats come from pests such as aphids, mites, and the aphid-like insect known as phylloxera. He especially keeps an eye open for signs of the case bearer moth. 

“Scab,” he says, “is my hardest challenge. “It’s a fungal infection. If I don’t keep up with it, it can knock out the whole crop.” It’s no wonder that he constantly tries out new tree varieties that provide resistance.

Another source of tree damage comes from the weather. The Swansons have faced tornado destruction, and they still feel the sting from Hurricane Rita. They were especially hurt by Hurricane Laura, which tore through with 100 mph winds, and in 2020 cost them nearly 60 percent of their typical annual yield of 125,000 pounds in-shell.

Fortunately, this year’s crop looks much healthier. As is typical, different pecan varieties are ripening at different times. It’s time to harvest when the trees’ numerous green husks (shucks) turn brown and crack open in four parts, revealing their seeds, pecans. Harvest begins in mid-October and ends in late December. 

The harvesting process begins with a large machine that grabs tree trunks and shakes them free of pecans. The pecans are scooped up by a mechanized harvester and loaded into wagons. 

​Mark cracks and packages Little Eva’s pecans on-site. He cleans unshelled nuts in a chlorine solution. Grading involves loading them on a conveyor belt that sorts by the use of a computerized “electric eye.” Dried and graded nuts are stored in “super bags” that hold up to 2,000 pounds.

Little Eva has several mechanized pecan crackers and shellers. “One of my machines can crack up to 1,000 pecans a minute,” Mark says. “After they’re shelled, about 80 percent come out in perfect halves.” The final step before packaging is grading by hand. 

Most empty pecan shells end up as mulch in Julie’s expansive mounds of flower beds. When she’s not gardening, Julie takes care of Little Eva’s retail end of the business. She sells directly from the Swansons’ farm, either by mail order (www.natchitochespecans.com) or from their store. She also hand-packages whole, cracked, and shelled pecans, as well as a large variety of candies made especially for Little Eva. And she makes artful gift packages. 

“It’s a lot of work,” she says. “But I enjoy it. And I couldn’t do it without help from family.”
Since pecans turn rancid fairly fast, Julie recommends refrigerating or freezing them promptly. In-shell or shelled pecans can be stored in air-tight containers and refrigerated for 9 months, or frozen at 0°F up to 2 years.

The U.S. produces 80 percent of the world’s pecans. The state of Georgia is our most prolific grower. Louisiana, with some 13,000 bearing acres, consistently ranks in the top 5. Our state harvests over 17 million pounds annually, which contributes about $12 million to our economy. 

The modern commercial pecan business is possible because of a long-ago discovery made by a slave named Antoine. The industry was established after 1846, when a slave at Oak Alley sugar plantation in southeast Louisiana successfully grafted a variety of pecan that could be easily cracked. Antoine’s “paper shell” pecan won a prize at the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, where his pecan picked up its name, the Centennial Variety. 

In addition to the numerous grafted varieties the Swansons grow, they also have a stand of native pecan trees. Pecans are indigenous to south central North America. The name comes from the Algonquin word “pakan,” which means “a nut that takes a stone to crack.” When the French arrived in Louisiana, they pronounced it “puh-CON.” That’s the way most of America says the word, at least according to the American Pecan Council. It’s the English, especially those who settled on the east coast, who decided to say “PEA-can,” a word that to some Louisianians invokes images of an outhouse.

No matter how you say it, we love this native nut. After my visit to Little Eva, I came home with an assortment of irresistible candies and a large bag of Desirable pecan halves. I’ve been assigned to bake a few desserts for our family’s Thanksgiving meal. Without a doubt, at least one, or maybe two will contain pecans.
 
 

Do you have a Louisiana agriculture story or a recipe you’d like to share? Contact me at noblescynthia@gmail.com
 

 
 Louisiana Pralines
Makes 24. Adapted from a recipe by the Little Eva Pecan Co.
 
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup white sugar
1 cup heavy cream
¼ cup (½ stick) salted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups pecans
 
1. Lay a long sheet of parchment paper on a hard work surface. In a 3-quart, heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine sugars and cream. Stir while bringing to a boil over medium-high heat. Lower heat to medium and simmer, without stirring, until mixture reaches the soft-ball stage, or 238°F.

2. Remove pan from heat and stir in butter and vanilla. Keep stirring, and when mixture starts to get creamy and slightly thick, stir in pecans.

3. Use a tablespoon to quickly drop candies onto parchment paper. Allow to cool until firm. Store in an airtight container up to 2 weeks.
 
 
Bourbon and Chocolate Pecan Pie
Makes a 9-inch pie (Best made a day ahead)
 
The bourbon is optional, but the alcohol evaporates as the pie bakes and leaves a delicious flavor.
 
1 (9-inch) refrigerated pie dough, or homemade, unbaked
3 large eggs
1 cup light corn syrup
⅔ cup light brown sugar
3 tablespoons bourbon or water
2 tablespoons salted butter, melted
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup chocolate chips
½ cup finely chopped pecans, plus 1 cup pecan halves
¾ cup chocolate chips
 
1. Place a rack in the center of your oven and preheat oven to 375°F. Place defrosted or homemade pie dough in a 9-inch pie pan. Trim it and refrigerate while making filling. 

2. In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, corn syrup, brown sugar, bourbon, melted butter, and vanilla. Stir in the chopped pecans. Scatter the chocolate chips on the bottom of the pie filling and gently pour filling over the chocolate. Bake 20 minutes.

3. Remove pie from the oven and carefully arrange pecan halves decoratively on top. Return to oven and bake until puffy, yet has a slightly wobbly center, about 30-40 more minutes.

4. Remove from oven and cool completely, preferably overnight. Serve at room temperature.
 
 
Pecan Pie Bars
Makes 24 
 
These little goodies taste just like traditional pecan pie, but they’re easier to serve.
 
1¾ cups all-purpose flour
1½ cups firmly packed light brown sugar, divided
1½ sticks cold salted butter, plus 5 tablespoons melted butter
1 cup dark corn syrup
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1½ cups chopped pecans
 
1. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Butter the insides of a 9x13-inch baking pan. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the flour and ½ cup brown sugar. Use your fingers or a pastry blender to cut in 1½ sticks cold butter until the mixture resembles coarse corn meal. Press mixture firmly into the bottom of the buttered pan and bake until light brown, about 15 minutes. Remove from oven and prepare the filling.

2. In a large bowl, mix together well the remaining 1 cup brown sugar, 5 tablespoons melted butter, corn syrup, and eggs. Stir in pecans. Pour filling evenly over the prepared crust and bake until firm, 35-40 minutes.

3. Cool completely, then cut into bars. Store in an airtight container up to 2 days.
 

By Cynthia LeJeune Nobles

I read somewhere that before the 1950s, the typical rural Louisiana child did not go trick-or-treating.

An extremely unscientific survey of a few older friends reveals that this is probably true.
There were, however, whisperings that kids in large towns roamed streets and went home with candy that was actually bought from a grocery store. And countless newspaper reports from as early as the 1800s divulge that ritzy Halloween parties had been going on in Louisiana’s larger cities. But for most country folks, October 31 was just another day — when farmers cut last crops, stored equipment, finagled over commodity prices, and prepared cattle for winter.
            
It’s no coincidence that Halloween falls near harvesttime. Halloween’s roots began 2,000 years ago in Ireland, where every November 1 the Celts held a harvest festival called Sahmain. Since the Celtic day began and ended at sunset, celebrations began the day before, on October 31.

These Irish also believed that on that day of celebration the dead returned to earth. So, in addition to storing grain and rounding up livestock for winter, the Celts wore grotesque masks to scare away spirits. To placate any ghosts that may have slipped in, they left offerings of food that they begged from neighbors. 

The Romans, too, held a harvest festival, theirs dedicated to Pomona, the goddess of tree fruits, especially apples. To steer Catholics away from these pagan rituals, the seventh century Pope Boniface IV declared November 1 All Saints Day, also known as All Hallows Day. The evening before became Hallows Eve, and eventually Halloween.
           
Meanwhile, back in Ireland, the celebrations were often rowdy. When the Irish came to America, they brought their Halloween custom, which often took the form of pranks. 

It was the Irish who first carved spooky faces in common vegetables of the season, particularly turnips and pumpkins. The pranksters also dragged cabbages tied with string through fields to terrorize travelers. It wasn’t uncommon for farmers to come home to toppled wagons and outhouses, gates off hinges, and livestock on barn roofs. The vandalism was also common in large cities, especially up north, where arson occasionally broke out. 

In Louisiana cities in the early 1900s, fun-loving young adults went door-to-door promising not to do tricks if they got treats. But there was usually rowdiness, too, even in smaller towns, with houses splatted with rotten eggs and eggs filled with paint. Garbage cans and outdoor furniture would be tipped over, and anything else not tied down was stolen. 

Although Louisiana’s farm kids didn’t do much trick-or-treating, some certainly did the prank part.

One particularly ghoulish rural trick was to leave coffins filled with wooden skeletons on doorsteps, which often frightened superstitious families out of their houses.

I can’t help but wonder if another skin-crawling horror may have kept rural residents locked inside on Halloween night. Our state’s infamous Rougarou is supposedly a shapeshifting, 8-foot-tall, half-man, half-wolf monster that roams our swamps. Many early Cajuns were afraid of the mythical beast every night of the year. But it stands to reason they would have been especially petrified on Halloween. (In honor of Louisiana’s homegrown monster, the town of Houma holds a Rougarou Festival every year in late October.)

The two world wars tamed America’s Halloween mischief. In the 1950s Halloween came back less dangerous, with a focus on children and candy. This sanitized version seemed to touch everyone, even rural Louisiana.

It’s hard to tie today’s Halloween celebrations with the holiday’s strong agrarian roots. In addition to pails overflowing with candy, October 31 has grown into a time for extravagant, sometimes racy adult costume parties. For many, it’s the unofficial start of the Christmas shopping season. For others it’s a day to binge on horror movies.

Unbelievably, Halloween is America’s second-largest commercial holiday. And we spend around $2.6 billion just on candy.

In my childhood, we kids out in the country certainly went trick-or-treating. But things were much simpler. Come October 31, most everyone under the age of 12 who lived up and down our then-gravel highway would dig through closets and transform ourselves into witches, princesses, devils, and farmers. (The latter would not take much effort.) Around twilight, our mothers would pack us into family station wagons and drive us down neighboring gravel roads to beg for homemade popcorn balls, cookies, and fudge. If we were lucky, we’d score a Baby Ruth. Or maybe chewing gum.

Our fathers couldn’t do the chauffer honors because they would be tired from a long day baling hay. Or they might have been cutting ratoon, “stubble,” their “second crop” of rice.

They had been busy harvesting, doing the activity that started the Halloween tradition.
            
 
Sweet Potato Soup with Cheesy Ghost Croutons
Makes 4 servings
 
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
½ cup chopped onion
3 cups chicken broth
1½ cups cooked, mashed sweet potato (canned is fine)
½ cup tomato sauce
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons honey
¾ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lime juice
 
Croutons
4 slices white bread
4 slices Monterey Jack, White Cheddar, or provolone cheese, cut in half
Pitted black olives, cut into thin slices
 
1. Preheat oven to 400°F. Heat oil in a large heavy saucepan and sauté onion until translucent, Stir in remaining soup ingredients, except for lime juice. Bring to a boil and reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, 10 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in lime juice.

2. Meanwhile, cut 8 ghost shapes from the 4 slices bread, and 8 pieces of cheese slightly larger than the bread shapes. Place bread “ghosts” on a foil-lined cookie sheet. Top each with a piece of cheese. Cut the olives to resemble mouths and eyes and arrange them in a face pattern on top of the cheese. Bake until cheese is melted, about 2-3 minutes.

3. Puree soup with an immersion blender or in a blender. Ladle into bowls and top with croutons. Serve immediately.
 
 
 
Persimmon Bread
Makes 2 loaves
 
I have a prolific persimmon tree, and I puree and freeze the overabundance for later use. If you have a hard time finding persimmons, pumpkin works just fine.
 
2 cups pureed persimmon or cooked pumpkin
1 stick unsalted butter, melted
½ cup vegetable oil
4 eggs, at room temperature
⅔ cup bourbon, or water plus 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3½ cups all-purpose flour
2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons baking soda
1½ teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon each cinnamon and allspice
1½ cups chopped pecans or walnuts
1½ cups raisins or dried cranberries 
 
1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Oil 2 loaf pans and dust with flour. In a medium bowl, mix together the persimmon, butter, oil, eggs, and bourbon. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, use a fork to mix together the flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and allspice. Stir the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients until there are no traces of dry flour. Stir in the pecans and raisins.

​3. Divide the batter between the 2 pans. Bake until the center springs up when touched lightly, about 1 hour, or until a temperature probe inserted into the middle reads 190°F. Remove from pans and cool on a rack at least 30 minutes.
 
 
Sweet Dough Monster Cookies
Makes 6 dozen. Adapted from a recipe by Loretta Miller of Iota.
 
If you can’t find candy eyes use drops of icing or an edible marker to make eyes out of Skittles or M&Ms.
 
¾ cup whole milk
2 large eggs
½ teaspoon vanilla
4½ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon each cinnamon and ground nutmeg
2½ cups sugar
1 stick salted butter, softened
Gel food coloring to color the dough
Candy eyes
A small tube of dark writing icing or an edible black marker
 
1. In a small bowl, use a fork to beat together the milk, eggs, and vanilla. In a large bowl, use a fork to mix together the flour, baking powder, soda, cinnamon, and nutmeg. In another large bowl beat together the sugar and butter until well combined, about 3 minutes with a fork or 2 minutes with beaters.

2. Beat the milk mixture into the sugar mixture. Gradually add the flour mixture and beat until well combined. Divide the batter between 2 bowls. To make your desired colors, add enough of one food coloring to one bowl and another color to the other. Dough will be sticky. Cover tops of bowls with plastic wrap and refrigerate the batters at least 2 hours. In the meantime, decorate your “eyes” if you’re not using pre-made.

3. Preheat oven to 375°F. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper. Roll the dough out to ¼ inch on a hard, well-floured surface covered with parchment paper. Cut out cookies with a round 2- or 2½-inch cutter. Place cookies 1 inch apart. For soft cookies bake 9-10 minutes. For crisper cookies bake 11-13 minutes. As soon as you remove cookies from the oven, press in the eyes.

4. Cool cookies thoroughly on a rack, then squeeze on the mouths with the icing. Keeps 4-5 days in an airtight container.