American

My initial exposure to French cuisine was during my first trip to Europe. It was long before I would eat in any three-star restaurants, and that exposure—the best I could have asked for—came from sitting in cafés. I was a wide-eyed twenty-three-year-old (and I was told by a waiter not to practice my high school French on him). I remember beautiful, colorful plates of vegetables going past me. I soon learned it was the classic French presentation of crudités, an assortment of three or four salads served together. It was fresh, affordable, and very appetizing, and it was served all over the city. Once in a while I’ll run this as a special in my restaurant; then I’ll forget about it until I crave it again. Any one of these salads can stand on its own, but if you put them all together they make for an extraordinary meal. Marinated Lentil Salad with Creamy Goat Cheese and Ripe Tomatoes (p. 113) would be a welcome addition to the mix.

A favorite from the land of the Jazz Brunch … Sometimes this is made with half-and-half, cream, or even ice cream to create a richer drink.

When I first got Rick Bayless’s Mexican Kitchen, I was so inspired by the recipes that I invited people over and made brunch for the first time in years. It was a warm, sunny New Orleans winter day, and I picked satsumas from my backyard tree and made these margaritas to welcome everyone.

Two types of bitters give this drink its characteristic flavor.

This recipe came from Mark Zink, who holds the distinction of being the only male pastry chef we ever had at Bayona. This tart is plenty nutty (no offense, Mark!) and richly flavored, thanks to an abundance of almonds. Just after baking, the tart gets a dousing of scotch while it’s still warm—an unusual, aromatic, and delicious twist.

I remember when I came up with the idea for this dessert and surprised myself by how good it was! Of course, it’s nice to have a pastry chef on hand who can translate my daydreams into reality. But this one is easy enough for anyone. Try using frozen puff pastry sheets if you don’t want to mess with the phyllo dough.

My rule of thumb is “If something tastes good, it will taste even better if you turn it into ice cream.” Hence my passion for coffee ice cream—and this divine take on everyone’s favorite Kentucky Derby Day libation. The better the bourbon, the better the ice cream. We serve this with shortbread, but it’s good with any type of cookies. Shaved or grated bittersweet chocolate would be a delicious addition.

When we first conjured up the notion of this dessert, we weren’t sure if people would go for the chocolate and basil combination in the mousse. But apparently everyone else dug the combination—the basil’s minty quality freshens up the chocolate taste—as much as we did: we couldn’t make these fast enough. When the scorching Crescent City summer rolled around, the kitchen got so hot and humid that the meringues wouldn’t bake properly (they need dry heat to crisp up), so we had to take them off the menu. We still like to make them from time to time when the temperature finally decides to drop.

Herbsaint, the anise-flavored liqueur that we named the restaurant after, was made in New Orleans for many years. It served as an absinthe substitute, offering a similar licorice taste without the hallucinations. While researching old recipes using absinthe or Pernod, I noticed the liqueurs would frequently be combined with brandy, and this appealed to me, since it tempers the strong anise flavor. Just like a sip of Sazerac, anise is not for everyone. But it’s a sophisticated alternative to the classic vanilla version. If you don’t like anise, simply substitute another tablespoon of brandy or bourbon.

This is sinfully rich and creamy, just the way a cream pie should be. It is best made several hours in advance, so that the coconut flavor has a chance to bloom in the filling. The crust is a classic pâte brisée, the rich, flaky French pastry used for both sweet and savory tarts (try it with your favorite quiche recipe). Don’t expect leftovers!

We do love our coffee in New Orleans, and we love it strong! Coffee ice cream may be my very favorite dessert, but this runs a close second. It is rich and not too sweet, easy to make, and, because the pôts de crème cook at such a low heat in a water bath, you can make them in pretty, decorative coffee cups and serve them on a saucer.

These seem to cry, “Brunch! Brunch!” Take the time to make someone special a Sunday morning treat with a big cup of café au lait, and you won’t regret it. These fritters, a take on beignets, the French Quarter’s most famous doughnut, are a snap to make.