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Showing posts from 2012

Creole Daube

Creole Daube (pronounced "dohb") is a New Orleans specialty that transforms an inexpensive rump roast into a wonderfully flavorful and tender meal. This tasty dish is a blend of Italian Red Gravy with Cajun Roux. This recipe is an excellent example of the extraordinary melding of flavor, culture, and cuisine in New Orleans. GATHER YOUR GROCERIES: One rump roast (2-3 Pounds) One green bell pepper, chopped One jalapeƱo pepper, diced One onion, chopped Three ribs of celery, chopped Three garlic cloves, crushed One Fourth cup of all-purpose flour One Fourth cup of vegetable oil plus additional for browning the roast One 8 ounce can of tomato paste One 14 ounce can of diced tomatoes Two cups of water Two bay leaves, dried or fresh One teaspoon oregano One teaspoon basil One tablespoon parsley One tablespoon granulated sugar Salt, cayenne, and black pepper to taste THE WAY TO DO IT: Step 1: Cut the rump roast into 1-inch strips. Season roast strips with salt and pepper

My Irish Great Great Grandfather

My Irish Great Great Grandfather Frank Lawrence was a milkman who delivered milk to the fine homes of New Orleans during the early 1900s.  Milk would be delivered every day, except Sunday. My grandfather milked his dairy cows early each morning, then loaded his supply onto a small wooden buggy, pulled by his horse. He would then make his way along his route, knocking on his customers' doors.  The lady of the house would come to the door bringing whatever container she kept the family's milk in, and Frank would take his ladle and scoop out the amount of milk she had ordered. Then he would go to the next home.  One day Frank wasn't feeling well, so he asked his neighbor Joseph to run his route and deliver the milk. Joseph answered, "I will help you, but I don't know your route." Frank replied, "don't you worry, the horse knows the way." The neighbor wasn't too confident in Frank's horse, but to his surprise, the horse starte

Annoying Little Song Bird

I wanted to sleep late this morning, but an annoying little songbird flew to the bedroom window and tapped on the glass with his wings.      He perched on the window sill and chirped loudly when he failed to get in. His antics annoy me; however, they also make me laugh.

My Daddy

My Daddy was there from day one, so I would have two parents And know who my father was. My Daddy worked two jobs, so I would not know what it was like to grow up poor. My Daddy stood behind me when a bully came to intimidate, so I would learn to face a challenge. My Daddy comforted me when my husband told me that he wasn’t coming home again, ever. My Daddy was there for the birth of my son, my daughter and my grandchildren, so I would know that family comes first. My Daddy went to physical therapy for a month so he could walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. My Daddy is and will always be my Daddy.