TulaneLSU's 6/30/2020 WFDT

Dear Friends,

While I do not like the season of summer when compared to the other seasons, I do appreciate the fruits of the season. I have well documented my loving relationship with the many productions from the ground, including squash, zucchini, okra, summer tomatoes, corn, bell peppers, jalapeno peppers, watermelon, blueberries, and a variety of fresh beans. It is enough to make a TulaneLSU Top 10 list.

Another thing I have had to come to appreciate is red snapper season. A while ago, there was no such season. Winter or summer, Autumn or spring, it was snapper season, and we could each catch seven to keep. Any time offshore, we would make a stop at the rigs for a guaranteed freezer fill of snapper. I believe it was a Viking, or was it a Hatteras? It certainly was not a Bertram, although, in my younger years, I dreamed of buying a Bertram 31, perhaps the finest sportfisher of the previous generation. In a Bertram, I dreamed of running a charter service from Panama. That dream was crushed -- a story for another time -- and I simply do not find often the opportunities for offshore outings. I haven't been offshore in Lake Pontchartrain, if you could even call it being offshore, since my summer with Captain Mike in Bucktown. It was all for the best, as I probably would never know the history of the land, politics and people of Panama well enough to give tours, fishing or otherwise, in that land. I will have to stick with Poorboy Tours of New Orleans.



Uncle has since sold his sportfisher and used that money to buy a condo at Portofino, the same resort at which our foul mouthed friend, toof, a silly name by all accounts that all spell checks try to transform to roof, is currently staying. Uncle sometimes allows his close friends to stay at his place. His friends, rather than receiving his generosity as grace, I believe, take it as a quid pro quo arrangement. They are always dropping off gifts of some sort or another. Today they dropped off some beautiful, chunky filets of red snapper they caught over the weekend.

His friends, whom I have never met, come and go like phantom ferries, dropping off goodies and gifts galore. It is quite a pleasant surprise to get an ice chest full of fresh fish, deer, sausage, ostrich, or garden edibles. I was happy to find some yellow squash and courgette. I believe today’s offerings extends my daily streak of having at least one of these vegetables (or are they fruit) to nine days, thanks to a large purchase at Cassebaum Farms in Elberta, AL recently.



Yum, yum, give me some. That is what a youth minister of ours used to say quite frequently. And I echo those thoughts when I look at a picture of this diced squash coming to perfect charred color. Sometimes squash is far too wet. I hate when people cook squash with onions and it turns into a slop of mush. It looks gross and it feels gross. Cooking these foods at a high temperature and not causing them to become pig slop, like they do at Paula Deen's Kitchen at AWO, is vital if you want to retain the highest flavors. The type of person that likes squash slop is probably the type of person who also enjoys Buc-ee's beaver trash. I believe I was able to do justice to these gifts tonight.



Next, I put the dusted filets in a Le Creuset cast iron with butter melted to the point of smoke. If you throw the filets in just as it smokes, you will get best results. The kitchen was on fire, smoking through to the dining room. Mother could smell it and politely entered the kitchen to make sure there was not a grease fire. Mother always says, “TulaneLSU, be deathly careful when cooking with fats at high temperature. It can burn you faster than you can say burn.”



Thank you, Mother, for your concern. Thanks be to God that I did not get burned tonight, nor did I ruin any cooking dishes or cause a kitchen fire. After about four minutes at that high temperature, I flipped the fish to reveal a perfectly blackened (is that term still acceptable today?) filet.



I made this plate for Mother, as she loves red snapper more than any other fish, even more than flounder. Secretly, I believe she still loves Crozier's Dover sole more than my blackened red snapper. Nonetheless, she is ever so kind and says, “This is the best fish in all the world.” Her love makes me so jubilant. I hope all have mothers who love them like Mother loves me.

Finally, it was time to eat.



For dessert, I will be having some Sweet Home Farm cheese, the variety of which I have still not decided. I make the strongest of recommendations that Americans start eating good cheese for dessert rather than the saccharine poisons to which so many have become accustomed, only accelerating the diabetes epidemic we face today.

Faith, Hope, and Love,
TulaneLSU