The Commander’s Palace is one of the finer restaurants in New Orleans. Here is one of their recipes from their website.
SHRIMP AND TASSO WITH FIVE PEPPER JELLY
36 Jumbo shrimp (shelled and deveined)
6 oz. Spicy tasso (julienne into 1" strips)
36 Pickled okra
5 Pepper jelly (see below)
Crystal Hot Sauce (see below)
Make a 1/4" incision down the back of each shrimp and place one stripe of tasso on each incision. Secure with a toothpick. Lightly dust each shrimp with seasoned flour and fry.
Placed cooked shrimp in a bowl with 4 oz. of Crystal hot butter sauce and toss until well coated.Spread 5-pepper jelly on the bottom of a small dish and arrange shrimp on the plate alternating with the pickled okra.
FIVE PEPPER JELLY
1 each Red, Yellow and Green peppers diced
1 Jalapeno
1/4 tsp. Pepper Flakes
6 oz. Karo Light Syrup
6 oz. White vinegar
Put light syrup and vinegar in a pot and reduce until sticky. Add remaining ingredients and cook until the peppers are soft. Add salt to taste.
CRYSTAL HOT SAUCE BEURRE BLANC
5 oz. Crystal hot sauce
Pinch of garlic
Pinch of shallot
2 oz. Heavy Cream
1 1/2 lb. Butter
Sauté garlic and shallots in a pan with a little butter. Add Crystal Hot Sauce and reduce by 75%. Add cream and reduce again by 50%. Slowly whip in softened butter a little at a time.
Louisiana Mystery Writer
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Ghost Hollow
GHOST BOYS OF EDMOND Here are two pics I took yesterday. the first pic, taken while there was still light, is the ghost creek that winds through Tall Oaks II in Edmond, OK. This is where I saw the large black cat.
The second pic is looking down the road at the hollow where the creek crosses under the road, via a culvert. This is where I saw the ghosts, just after dark.
Gondwana
The second pic is looking down the road at the hollow where the creek crosses under the road, via a culvert. This is where I saw the ghosts, just after dark.
Gondwana
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Prairie Sunset Excerpt
The weather in central Oklahoma has been gorgeous lately. Tonight is a near full moon, and yesterday I witnessed one of the most gorgeous sunsets that I have ever seen. When atmospheric conditions are right, no place on earth has sunsets any more gorgeous. One such sunset was part of the inspiration for my novel Prairie Sunset.
John and Attie are two improbable, moonstruck lovers. Near the end of the story, at Artist’s Point outside of Eureka Springs, Arkansas, they stop their RV to watch the sunset. Here is a short excerpt of that scene from the novel Prairie Sunset:
* * *
Laboring up steep Highway 71, Attie managed to pass several slower moving, sight-seeing vehicles. When they reached the highest point, south of Canada, on the old highway, Attie pointed into the distance.
"Eureka's just beyond the horizon. Seventy miles as the crow flies."
"Look there, Attie. A rainbow on the horizon. Must be where our pot of gold lies."
"Don't see it."
"In the distance," he said. "Where you pointed."
"Road's too steep. I'll take your word for it."
Passing through Fayetteville, Springdale and Rogers they neared the final stretch of highway before reaching Eureka Springs. A road sign said 'next fourteen miles steep and winding'. It was. Spiraling ever upward the narrow road flattened only briefly, forming a river valley. Having gouged its course between two rounded peaks, the river meandered lazily into the distance, creating a lovely mountain vale in its wake.
Crossing the river, Attie pointed 'Ol Betsy up the steepest mountain they had yet encountered. Ascending the incline, the engine coughed and labored. Overlooking the river below, their view became even more dramatic as they climbed ever higher. Near the mountain's crest the winding roadway took a wide loop, affording a spectacular view of the meandering river, far below.
"Pull over Attie," John said.
Responding to urgency in his voice, Attie wheeled the RV to a scenic turnout by the side of the road. "You all right?" she said.
"We're not going to make it to your house before dark. Let's stop here and watch the sunset."
In the western sky, the golden orb had already begun its descent. Attie parked and waited until John opened the door and fresh air, damp with impending rain, flooded the vehicle. Stepping to the ground, he smiled and stretched his arms.
"Attie, I feel as if I've finally come home."
"You have, John," she said, taking his hand. "We both have."
Together they walked to the cliff's edge and sat on a large limestone boulder overlooking the valley. Purple martins, leaving daytime roosts in search of insects, swirled high overhead and in the distance a chorus of tree frogs began their nocturnal serenade. Damp breeze whistling through the pines joined the melody, harmonizing with a company of crickets lilting like a thousand violins.
Tightly squeezing Attie's hand, John said, "It's beautiful."
"Yes it is," Attie said, gazing at the red radiating sphere burning a luminous swath in fading sky as it descended toward the valley floor.
"Once," he said. "On a spring night in western Oklahoma I saw a sunset almost as beautiful. Particles of dust from some volcanic eruption in the Pacific filled the sky. Invisible during the day, dispersed particles became fiery streaks of crimson incandescence at dusk."
"A beautiful sunset is something to remember."
"Attie, you remember the horse races?"
"Course I do."
"Remember when I told you which horse I was betting on? You said he was the biggest nag on the track - had never won a race."
"And you were too stubborn to listen."
"I bet on his name, Prairie Sunset, because until I met you that sunset in western Oklahoma was the loveliest vision I'd ever seen."
"You're incurable," she said, nudging his ribs and moving closer. Putting her arm around his waist, Attie felt a tremble beneath her touch, like a bridge abutment, stressed with age, beginning to tire and collapse.
"John, need a heart pill?"
"Already took two," he said, his breathing suddenly coming faster and then in short gasps.
"John!" Not answering, John closed his eyes and shrank back against the boulder. "Get up John. We're just outside town. There's a hospital there."
Neither speaking, nor opening his eyes, John grasped Attie's hand. Squeezing it tightly, his lips began to quiver and he fought to open his eyes.
"Attie," he said in a whisper. "Help me up."
"No!" she said, tears welling up in her red-rimmed eyes."
"Help me Attie," he said, his voice low and becoming increasingly hard to hear.
She encircled his waist, struggling to lift him. Managing somehow to boost him into a sitting posture, she positioned herself behind him, bracing his frail weight between her legs, against her body, embracing him as death's head danced ever-narrowing circles above them. Finally, it kissed his cheek.
"This can't be happening. Not now. Not so close to home. Let me help you to a doctor."
Holding her hand, John shook his head and said, "Don't cry Attie. This has been the happiest week of my life. I never met a kinder, sweeter person than you." His voice was barely a whisper when he squeezed her hand, one last time, and said, "I love you, Attie. You kept your promise and took me to the Magic Fountain. Before I go I want you to make one more promise."
Clutching his hand in a desperate clasp, Attie nodded sadly, as tears streamed down her red and puffy face.
"Bury me on an Arkansas hillside, facing west. I'm home now and I never want to leave again."
Attie promised. Then, until the sun had long disappeared below the western horizon, and distant thunder heralded gentle rain, she clutched him to her breast, crying silent tears as she rocked him in her arms.
John and Attie are two improbable, moonstruck lovers. Near the end of the story, at Artist’s Point outside of Eureka Springs, Arkansas, they stop their RV to watch the sunset. Here is a short excerpt of that scene from the novel Prairie Sunset:
* * *
Laboring up steep Highway 71, Attie managed to pass several slower moving, sight-seeing vehicles. When they reached the highest point, south of Canada, on the old highway, Attie pointed into the distance.
"Eureka's just beyond the horizon. Seventy miles as the crow flies."
"Look there, Attie. A rainbow on the horizon. Must be where our pot of gold lies."
"Don't see it."
"In the distance," he said. "Where you pointed."
"Road's too steep. I'll take your word for it."
Passing through Fayetteville, Springdale and Rogers they neared the final stretch of highway before reaching Eureka Springs. A road sign said 'next fourteen miles steep and winding'. It was. Spiraling ever upward the narrow road flattened only briefly, forming a river valley. Having gouged its course between two rounded peaks, the river meandered lazily into the distance, creating a lovely mountain vale in its wake.
Crossing the river, Attie pointed 'Ol Betsy up the steepest mountain they had yet encountered. Ascending the incline, the engine coughed and labored. Overlooking the river below, their view became even more dramatic as they climbed ever higher. Near the mountain's crest the winding roadway took a wide loop, affording a spectacular view of the meandering river, far below.
"Pull over Attie," John said.
Responding to urgency in his voice, Attie wheeled the RV to a scenic turnout by the side of the road. "You all right?" she said.
"We're not going to make it to your house before dark. Let's stop here and watch the sunset."
In the western sky, the golden orb had already begun its descent. Attie parked and waited until John opened the door and fresh air, damp with impending rain, flooded the vehicle. Stepping to the ground, he smiled and stretched his arms.
"Attie, I feel as if I've finally come home."
"You have, John," she said, taking his hand. "We both have."
Together they walked to the cliff's edge and sat on a large limestone boulder overlooking the valley. Purple martins, leaving daytime roosts in search of insects, swirled high overhead and in the distance a chorus of tree frogs began their nocturnal serenade. Damp breeze whistling through the pines joined the melody, harmonizing with a company of crickets lilting like a thousand violins.
Tightly squeezing Attie's hand, John said, "It's beautiful."
"Yes it is," Attie said, gazing at the red radiating sphere burning a luminous swath in fading sky as it descended toward the valley floor.
"Once," he said. "On a spring night in western Oklahoma I saw a sunset almost as beautiful. Particles of dust from some volcanic eruption in the Pacific filled the sky. Invisible during the day, dispersed particles became fiery streaks of crimson incandescence at dusk."
"A beautiful sunset is something to remember."
"Attie, you remember the horse races?"
"Course I do."
"Remember when I told you which horse I was betting on? You said he was the biggest nag on the track - had never won a race."
"And you were too stubborn to listen."
"I bet on his name, Prairie Sunset, because until I met you that sunset in western Oklahoma was the loveliest vision I'd ever seen."
"You're incurable," she said, nudging his ribs and moving closer. Putting her arm around his waist, Attie felt a tremble beneath her touch, like a bridge abutment, stressed with age, beginning to tire and collapse.
"John, need a heart pill?"
"Already took two," he said, his breathing suddenly coming faster and then in short gasps.
"John!" Not answering, John closed his eyes and shrank back against the boulder. "Get up John. We're just outside town. There's a hospital there."
Neither speaking, nor opening his eyes, John grasped Attie's hand. Squeezing it tightly, his lips began to quiver and he fought to open his eyes.
"Attie," he said in a whisper. "Help me up."
"No!" she said, tears welling up in her red-rimmed eyes."
"Help me Attie," he said, his voice low and becoming increasingly hard to hear.
She encircled his waist, struggling to lift him. Managing somehow to boost him into a sitting posture, she positioned herself behind him, bracing his frail weight between her legs, against her body, embracing him as death's head danced ever-narrowing circles above them. Finally, it kissed his cheek.
"This can't be happening. Not now. Not so close to home. Let me help you to a doctor."
Holding her hand, John shook his head and said, "Don't cry Attie. This has been the happiest week of my life. I never met a kinder, sweeter person than you." His voice was barely a whisper when he squeezed her hand, one last time, and said, "I love you, Attie. You kept your promise and took me to the Magic Fountain. Before I go I want you to make one more promise."
Clutching his hand in a desperate clasp, Attie nodded sadly, as tears streamed down her red and puffy face.
"Bury me on an Arkansas hillside, facing west. I'm home now and I never want to leave again."
Attie promised. Then, until the sun had long disappeared below the western horizon, and distant thunder heralded gentle rain, she clutched him to her breast, crying silent tears as she rocked him in her arms.
Perry, Oklahoma Pics
Here are two pics taken in Perry, Oklahoma, one of the courthouse - made famous as the place that first indicted Timothy McVey, the Oklahoma City Bomber - and the library.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Spirit Children of Tall Oaks II
I began my walk earlier tonight than usual and it was not yet dark when I reached the place where I saw last night’s spirits. I nevertheless approached the bottom where the creek goes under the road with anticipation, and with caution.
I didn’t get a good look at the two beings last night but I think they were boys, about ten or eleven. The more I have thought about what I saw, the more my mind is playing tricks on my memory. I am now convinced that what I saw were two Edmond, Oklahoma ghost boys that use the creek as a conduit to move from place to place without detection.
I had my trusty digital Nikon in my pocket this evening and took a picture of the tree-covered low spot where the creek goes under the road. Even though darkness had yet to totally fall, the picture turned out completely black, except for a few spots of circular light.
What light remained, as I rounded the corner and began walking up the hill to my house, was disappearing fast. There was something sitting in the road in front of me - a large black cat that I had never before seen. The cat ambled into a culvert under the street.
Tomorrow, I will begin my walk a little earlier so I can capture a picture of the place where I saw the two ghosts, or later so that I might catch another glimpse of the spirit boys. Even if I don’t see them, maybe I’ll get a picture of the black cat that lives in the culvert.
Fiction South
I didn’t get a good look at the two beings last night but I think they were boys, about ten or eleven. The more I have thought about what I saw, the more my mind is playing tricks on my memory. I am now convinced that what I saw were two Edmond, Oklahoma ghost boys that use the creek as a conduit to move from place to place without detection.
I had my trusty digital Nikon in my pocket this evening and took a picture of the tree-covered low spot where the creek goes under the road. Even though darkness had yet to totally fall, the picture turned out completely black, except for a few spots of circular light.
What light remained, as I rounded the corner and began walking up the hill to my house, was disappearing fast. There was something sitting in the road in front of me - a large black cat that I had never before seen. The cat ambled into a culvert under the street.
Tomorrow, I will begin my walk a little earlier so I can capture a picture of the place where I saw the two ghosts, or later so that I might catch another glimpse of the spirit boys. Even if I don’t see them, maybe I’ll get a picture of the black cat that lives in the culvert.
Fiction South
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Ghosts of Tall Oaks Creek
August in central Oklahoma began as a scorcher, with multiple days of one hundred plus temperatures. It ended with a whimper, days damp and cool, and the nights almost chilly.
Days have grown shorter, darkness falling before I finished my walk tonight. A creek courses through the area, cloaked on both sides by trees and thick vegetation. All manner of wildlife, including foxes, coyotes, raccoons, possums, and even an occasional deer, call the creek home and use it as a conduit for stealthy movement. Tonight, I saw something other than a wild animal.
About a half mile from my house, thick tree cover effectively blocks the moon and stars. As I walked down the gentle hill to the spot where the creek crosses the road, I saw the faint outline of two people walking toward me. I couldn’t tell if they were male or female, young or old. As I strained to see whom it was, one of them darted into the trees.
I was walking at a fast clip down the hill, straining to get a better look at the person walking toward me. As I approached the creek, I realized that the person dressed in ephemeral white was actually moving away from me. The person had a light. At first, I thought it was a flashlight, but they held it over their head like a torch - a torch so faint that it cast only the dimmest of light. By now, I was wondering if the two people I saw were actually real, or perhaps spirits out for a walk.
The entity disappeared for a moment behind a slight bend in the road. I increased my pace, expecting to see two walkers, dressed in white, strolling ahead of me when I rounded the slight bend. Instead, I saw nothing but darkness. There was no place the two beings could easily have gone that I wouldn’t have seen them. I continued toward the house, looking back over my shoulder for the entities, but seeing only flickering fireflies.
The golden moon, nearly full, glowed as I exited the trees. A little voice inside my head told me that I either didn’t see what I thought I saw, or else there is a logical explanation to the mystery. I guess anything is possible.
Louisiana Mystery Writer
Days have grown shorter, darkness falling before I finished my walk tonight. A creek courses through the area, cloaked on both sides by trees and thick vegetation. All manner of wildlife, including foxes, coyotes, raccoons, possums, and even an occasional deer, call the creek home and use it as a conduit for stealthy movement. Tonight, I saw something other than a wild animal.
About a half mile from my house, thick tree cover effectively blocks the moon and stars. As I walked down the gentle hill to the spot where the creek crosses the road, I saw the faint outline of two people walking toward me. I couldn’t tell if they were male or female, young or old. As I strained to see whom it was, one of them darted into the trees.
I was walking at a fast clip down the hill, straining to get a better look at the person walking toward me. As I approached the creek, I realized that the person dressed in ephemeral white was actually moving away from me. The person had a light. At first, I thought it was a flashlight, but they held it over their head like a torch - a torch so faint that it cast only the dimmest of light. By now, I was wondering if the two people I saw were actually real, or perhaps spirits out for a walk.
The entity disappeared for a moment behind a slight bend in the road. I increased my pace, expecting to see two walkers, dressed in white, strolling ahead of me when I rounded the slight bend. Instead, I saw nothing but darkness. There was no place the two beings could easily have gone that I wouldn’t have seen them. I continued toward the house, looking back over my shoulder for the entities, but seeing only flickering fireflies.
The golden moon, nearly full, glowed as I exited the trees. A little voice inside my head told me that I either didn’t see what I thought I saw, or else there is a logical explanation to the mystery. I guess anything is possible.
Louisiana Mystery Writer
Cousins - a pic
Here is an old picture. The little boy on left front row is my brother Jack (he still has that shirt), the little girl next to him my cousin Angela. The girl behind Angela is my cousin Carolyn Sue. I don't recognize the girl behind Jack, but her name is Anne (at least I think). The picture was likely taken in 1945.
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