as far as the unhappy eye can see. The colony had to be carved out of thick canebrakes, and the Creoles were forced to battle hurricanes, floods, and yellow fever without rest. New Orleans' penchant for partying may actually stem from those tragic earliest days, when mere survival was cause for celebration.
The first colonists of La Nouvelle Orleans were soon joined by African slaves and then by German settlers. In the mid-eighteenth century, New Orleans came under the control of Spain—introducing a host of new flavors and techniques from Spanish holdings across the Americas, ranging from tomatoes to corn to the act of deep-frying itself.
Italian fruit vendors in the French Market at the turn of the century.
It was during this colonial period that thousands of Acadians (or Cajuns) came to southern Louisiana from present-day Nova Scotia and New Brunswick in Canada. They were descendants of French speakers who, at the dawn of the seventeenth century, colonized those Canadian provinces—only to be driven out and down the coast by the British.
This was also when New Orleans suffered two devastating fires; the rebuilt city we see today reflects a decidedly Spanish flavor, resembling Old San Juan more than it does Paris, Rouen, or Nice. After the turn of the nineteenth century, Spain let Louisiana slip back to France, but the French flag flew over the colony for only twenty days.
The port of New Orleans is less than a day's steam from the spot where the Mississippi River meets the Gulf of Mexico. In 1803 the port was a bustling center of trade, and Thomas Jefferson—bent on keeping it out of Napoleon's hands—purchased the entire Louisiana Territory for fifteen million dollars. This single transaction gave the United States a vision of itself that within a handful of years would reach outward to the Pacific Ocean.
Thousands of people rushed to the new American city. By 1840, New Orleans was one of the largest and wealthiest cities in the nation—with restaurants worthy of patrons who wanted to (and could afford to) eat well. Nearly all the places founded then are only memories now. There was Moreau's, reputed to be the best, and a place called Fabacher's, by far the largest. The latter served up to two thousand meals on an average day, as many as five thousand on Mardi Gras—an irony, since most fine dining establishments now lock their doors on Fat Tuesday.
Begue's was a Creole landmark near the French Market, famed for its gargantuan breakfasts of seafoods, meats, and wines that could last up to four hours. New Orleans' oldest surviving restaurant, the world-famous Antoine's, started out as a humble boardinghouse.
Today, New Orleans is a diversified commercial and tourist center, yet its riverfront is still a significant component of the economy. It has extensive dock facilities along the river and along man-made shortcuts like the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway and the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet. Exports from New Orleans' vast hinterland include grains, cotton, and petroleum products. Crawfish and catfish production are also important industries, and Louisiana is known for the quality of its rice, sweet potatoes, sugar cane, strawberries, and tomatoes.
Despite some nods to the twentieth century—a proliferation, for instance, of high-rise, high-tech convention hotels-New Orleans still has a foot firmly planted in the past.
New Orleans is anything but a neat, orderly city, and therein lies part of its charm, as well as its great appeal to writers and artists. The French Quarter, one of the city's ten historic districts, is carefully preserved, right down to its peeling paint and cracked flagstones. It is a lively living museum, a business center, and even a residential district, as well as the city's primary tourist attraction.
If you stop in the Quarter near the Vieux Carré for beignets and a cup of chicory-laced coffee, you will be near the site of the original colony of La Nouvelle Orleans, with the same boundaries today as when it was first laid out by French engineers in the eighteenth century.
Bagnets and cafe au lait have been a New Orleans pleasure since the 1800s
The city cherishes its French heritage and loves its legends of voodoo queens and grinning buccaneers. Yet we also take pride in the fact that New Orleans is the first American city in which opera was performed. For the most part, day in and night out, New Orleans is mindful of those qualities that make it unique—on the street or on the plate. We take pride in our food, our music, and our fun; and we wake up each day inviting the world to join us.
Growing Up with Great Food
The grande dame of New Orleans' first family of food remembers the flavors of her childhood
by Ella Brennan
As children growing up in New Orleans, we had an extraordinary culinary experience, and we didn't even know it. We thought everybody else in the world had a mother who was just as good a cook as ours. She was a wonderful cook. And with six children around the table, meals were always a happy time. She spoiled us with good food.
My mother was an intuitive cook, like many women and men here in New Orleans. I remember following her around as a child. She had magic in her hands. Now I say that all great cooks have magic in their hands, and she certainly did. There was nothing complicated about this, believe me. It was the simplest thing she could do.
She didn't have to prepare for weeks or go to the grocery' store with a list. She had a pantry that she kept stocked. And meats, poultry, seafood, the freshest vegetables and fruits anyone could ever want— these were part of our lives as kids, right along with the people who prepared them for us at the little markets or delivered them to our door. Sometimes it's the people I remember even more than the food—but that's okay because who can separate them, anyway?
John, Dome, and Dick Brennan (standing, from left) and Ella and Adelaide Brennan (seated), founders of Commander's Palace.
My mother had a butcher, Mr. Manale, who brought her meat. She had a fish person. The vegetable man, Mr. Tony, came to the front door. The banana man, the milkman, the coffee man—they all came right to our house back then, and they were my mother's friends.
As kids, we got to know them. Mr. Tony used to drive us to school on occasion. These people would always be in the kitchen, having a cup of coffee, having a glass of iced tea. Our house was food-oriented, but we didn't realize it until many years later.
There was a bakery across the street from our school. When my brother Dick was little, I had to go pick him up after his classes. And we'd be throwing the bread back and forth between us all the way home because it was so hot.
My mother's brothers used to fish and hunt all the time. They would always bring back the things they'd caught for her to prepare. I can still hear them whistling as they came through the door, bringing my mother the freshest redfish imaginable. I decided long ago that there's no better dish on earth than my mother's baked redfish with Creole sauce. It was a very light sauce: fresh tomatoes, onions, and green peppers, served with white rice. We were Irish, not French, but my mother was New Orleans.
When we first got into the restaurant business, we were very fortunate to have some wonderful people to help us out. They were all much older than we were, and these kitchen guys adopted us. We spent hours just sitting with them learning. We shared books with them, and they shared books with us.
From its beginning, Creole cuisine has been experimental. It evolved with French settlers modifying their traditional recipes to
