I’m sure I’m not the only person in our area who is getting pretty darn sick of winter. Spring has technically arrived, and the snow is receding from my hillside. Nevertheless, much white stuff remains, and we are still having blustery days. I have yet to see a daffodil.
I long to see fresh vegetables and herbs outside. I believe chives may be coming to life in my herb garden. That garden is awash with snow, however, so I can’t verify signs of life. And I’m longing for the colors and tastes of spring and summer.
Last week, I decided to pretend that summer had arrived by making a summer dish, Maque Choux. Pronounced “mock shoe,” this Southern Louisiana favorite is usually made in mid-summer using fresh vegetables, particularly corn.
I didn’t have fresh corn so I turned to frozen. It wasn’t perfect. For traditional Maque Choux the cook or cooks will include not just fresh corn kernels, but also the “milk” one scrapes from the cobs. This was not an option with frozen corn. I enjoyed my Maque Choux nevertheless.
“Maque Choux” means “masked cabbage,” an odd name since I have never seen a Maque Choux recipe that includes cabbage. It’s a fun name, however. The dish itself seems to combine a number of cuisines, just as Creole and Cajun culture combine a number of peoples: French, Black and Native American.
There is and was racism in Louisiana. Nevertheless, throughout much of the state’s history African and Indigenous Americans mingled with Europeans, particularly in New Orleans. The state was far from egalitarian; it had a rigid class structure. It housed a lot of free people of color before the Civil War, however.
And Louisiana cooks have drawn on their many cultures to create one of the world’s richest cuisines.
I’m not an expert in Louisiana culture or cooking, but I have had two good friends who hailed from the state and embodied its cooking ethos.
Alice Gagnard was my roommate for years when I was getting my master’s degree. Alice was and is the embodiment of effortless entertainment.
She would routinely whip up a big pot of something inexpensive and nourishing — Red Beans and Rice, Jambalaya or Po’ Boys — and invite all our friends over to partake. To her, cooking was a primary act of friendship.
I met my other Louisiana friend, Mike Mashon, in my doctoral program. Mike had two passions, film (we called him “Mike the Pirate” because he loved to videotape and share old movies with us) and food.
He, too, invited whoever was around on a regular basis to share his native cuisine. Like Alice, he seemed to do this effortlessly.
For both Alice and Mike, family was paramount, as I gather it is to most people in Louisiana. The late Norman Marmillion, who restored Laura Plantation Vacherie, Louisiana, said in a 2004 speech in Missouri:
“The importance of family cannot be underestimated. If I were to move to St. Louis and meet new friends, say at a cocktail reception, the conversation, I believe, would soon turn to ‘Well, what do you do for a living?’ In many parts of Louisiana today, such a query would be considered irrelevant and gauche.
“No. In Louisiana, the conversation starts out with: Who’s your momma? This question resonates in every level of society, in both city and countryside. How can I even begin to communicate with you if I don’t know your family?”
For Mike and Alice, family and cooking mingled as a central part of identity. I’m forever grateful that they shared their cooking and their families with me.
Interestingly, when I sent Alice an email asking about Maque Choux, she didn’t have a recipe to offer.
“I know there are lots of recipes out there (which I have not seen) and that Prudhomme-types serve it in restaurants and that it is rumored to be full of cream and other things,” she wrote.
“[When I was growing up] we made ‘Smothered Corn.’ When the corn came in, it was so plentiful. You either picked it, or had already contacted your go-to local source with a pre-order for a certain number of dozen ears.
“Then you scraped it — what a ritual at that scale. Lots of opinions about how THAT should be done, but one ALWAYS came away with droplets of corn milk in hair and on clothing and skin. Best done outdoors or on a porch.
“Then you had to ‘cook it down.’ With at least onions and bell peppers, and sometimes bits of tomato, and then sausage or bacon if you chose. The very biggest of skillets were required.
“Was that Maque Choux? Je ne sais pas. [I do not know.] But, oh my, it was awesome.”
Alice’s Smothered Corn sounds a lot to me like Maque Choux on a grand scale. I’ll have to try it come summer. Meanwhile, here is my early spring Maque Choux. Feel free to add more of the members of the Trinity — Louisianians’ term for their beloved combination of onions, peppers and celery — if you’re so inclined.
A couple of variations: I love Creole seasoning, but I know not everyone does. You could probably make this with just salt and pepper and perhaps a bit of smoked paprika for spices.
I also love bacon, but if you’re vegetarian, feel free to start sautéing with olive oil or a combination of oil and butter instead of bacon grease.
I tried the dish with and without cream. It’s delicious both ways. If you end up putting in a little too much spice, the cream will mellow it. In either case, you’ll end up with a bright, flavorful dish.
Feel free to add a little more protein to your dish toward the end. Cooked beans, andouille, ham, shrimp … the sky’s the limit!
Springtime Maque Choux
Ingredients:
4 cups frozen corn kernels
4 slices thick-cut bacon, chopped into small pieces
2/3 cup finely chopped sweet onion
1 medium sweet bell pepper (I used an orange one; red or yellow would be nice, too), seeded and chopped
2/3 cup diced celery
2 cloves garlic, minced
Creole seasoning such as Tony Chachere’s or Zatarain’s brand to taste (start with 1/4 teaspoon and add a bit more after tasting)
1 can (10 ounces) diced tomatoes with green chilies
cream to taste (optional: If you’re using it, start with 1/2 cup and add a bit more as needed.)
Instructions:
Bring the corn kernels to room temperature. I placed them in a colander in the sink in case they were wet and gave them about 1 hour to defrost.
In a 4- or 5-quart Dutch oven over medium-low heat, cook the bacon pieces until they turn brown. Remove them from the pot, and set them to drain on paper towels. Stir in the onion, pepper and celery. Sauté until they soften, about 5 minutes.
Stir in the corn, the garlic and the Creole seasoning, and cook for another 5 minutes. Stir regularly to make sure the vegetables don’t stick or burn. Add the tomatoes, cooking and stirring for a minute or two to let some of their liquid evaporate.
If you’re using the cream, stir it in and cook until it begins to bubble, another few minutes.
Serve with crumbled bacon on top. Serves 6 to 8 as a side dish.
Tinky Weisblat is an award-winning cookbook author and singer known as the Diva of Deliciousness. Visit her website, TinkyCooks.com.