When it rained, we sat in the kitchen and listened to old Tante Zoe. She talked all the time when she was cooking, about what she was making and how she knew how to do it right from the old days.
If she had a big dinner for special guests, she’d say why this or that was served “To the mayor, not the bishop!” Then she’d sing and talk to herself, look up, smile, and coo like the old dove she was. She made us molasses butter for our morning biscuits.
Poppa smoked cigars in the house, but Zoe said she knew better than to smell up the cushions, and took her pipe to the swing on the back porch. Sunday mornings she’d fry rice beignets, the calas. She’d tell how they’d sell them in the Quarter, singing, “Belles calas! Mo gaignin calas, guaranti vous ve bons! Belles calas, belles calas!”
Then she’s laugh and say how the fancy girls would run down the stairs with baskets to fill and take back up to their men.
Calas (Beignets Riz)
Add two packets of yeast mixed with a cup of warm water and a tablespoon of sugar to two cups over-cooked mashed rice. Cover and let it work overnight. In the morning, add four beaten eggs, a half cup sugar, a tablespoon of pure vanilla and pinches of nutmeg and allspice. Blend in enough plain flour to make a thick batter, and drop by spoonful into very hot oil. When browned, drain, dust with powdered sugar.
