There is a legendary kind of fried chicken in New
Orleans. I don't mean Popeye's. At the wonderful
Jacques Imo's, on Oak street in Uptown; they serve
Austin Leslie's chicken . Nobody ever made better
fried chicken -- ever. My friend John Boutte, the
gifted creole soul singer, told me that Mr. Leslie
told him how he made his chicken -- he said it was all
in the cooking oil that Austin Leslie worked his magic
..."He put red, black, and white pepper in the oil
..BEFORE, the chicken was even dropped into it -- he
also added black and white pepper to the flour and
cornmeal-- and when it finished frying... when it was
still greasy-hot-- he drizzled pickle juice on it".
In south Louisiana ; Austin Leslie's chicken is
legendary-- as was he, himself. He was a gentleman
chef and made his chicken at Pampy's and other
restaurants in the crescent city . He also spent a
lot of time teaching other chefs how to make 'Austin
Leslie Chicken'. I hope they listened . I ate 'Austin
Leslie chicken' for the first time the other night
and it is the chicken by which I will judge all other
chicken. Before I bit into it , Boutte, in a very
serious tone of voice said; "You realize.... this is
Austin Leslie's chicken....". After one bite I
understood the reverence for Mr. Leslie's chicken.
Each piece has a tart slice of pickle on top. The
fried skin is the most crackly, flavorful thing I've
ever eaten.
Often , when you eat with friends, you offer them a
taste of your dish-- unless you have Mr. Leslie's
chicken-- I'm not giving anybody ANY.
It is more like--"No... you can't taste my chicken --
fuck you-- get your own Austin Leslie chicken".
Mr Leslie also inspired a television series -- the
short-lived, but very sharply observed 'Frank's
Place', which starred Tim Reid as the elegant and
funny chef. I don't know a whole lot more about Austin
Leslie.
I know that people down here regarded him as a
gentleman; in the old-school sense of that word. I
know that the chefs he passed his recipe on to have
not changed it even a little. I also know that Mr.
Leslie was a victim of Katrina. He was a diabetic and
while waiting on a rooftop he suffered and cut that
later became infected-- and months later he died in
Atlanta as a result of this. 2 and a half years later;
Katrina is still exacting its awful price.
Last night, I listened to the great Paul Sanchez
sing his reworking of Randy Newman's gorgeous and
elegaic 'Louisiana'-- It's breath-taking-- Paul and
John Boutte changed this lovely song with lyrics
that speak to the anger, sadness, and furious loss of
Katrina-- they don't call it 'Katrina' anymore....
down here they call it 'The Thing'. I worry about Paul
Sanchez -- he is an uncommonly decent and generous
human being who can not leave this place. I certainly
understand this . New Orleans gets in your heart
quickly. It is run by corrupt , incompetent
knuckleheads; and populated by soulful dreamers like
Paul and John Boutte, and Susan Cowsill-- and the
many other gifted story-tellers and singers and
musicians of Frenchmen street, the Quarter , and
Uptown, and the whole damned city.
I always feel like they have made a deal with
themselves: they will deal with ...The thing, the
lousy pay, the inequities and unfairness of the music
business.... just don't take away their joy.
"We were always crazy down here... but now we've gone
mad."
--Paul Sanchez
|
Orleans. I don't mean Popeye's. At the wonderful
Jacques Imo's, on Oak street in Uptown; they serve
Austin Leslie's chicken . Nobody ever made better
fried chicken -- ever. My friend John Boutte, the
gifted creole soul singer, told me that Mr. Leslie
told him how he made his chicken -- he said it was all
in the cooking oil that Austin Leslie worked his magic
..."He put red, black, and white pepper in the oil
..BEFORE, the chicken was even dropped into it -- he
also added black and white pepper to the flour and
cornmeal-- and when it finished frying... when it was
still greasy-hot-- he drizzled pickle juice on it".
In south Louisiana ; Austin Leslie's chicken is
legendary-- as was he, himself. He was a gentleman
chef and made his chicken at Pampy's and other
restaurants in the crescent city . He also spent a
lot of time teaching other chefs how to make 'Austin
Leslie Chicken'. I hope they listened . I ate 'Austin
Leslie chicken' for the first time the other night
and it is the chicken by which I will judge all other
chicken. Before I bit into it , Boutte, in a very
serious tone of voice said; "You realize.... this is
Austin Leslie's chicken....". After one bite I
understood the reverence for Mr. Leslie's chicken.
Each piece has a tart slice of pickle on top. The
fried skin is the most crackly, flavorful thing I've
ever eaten.
Often , when you eat with friends, you offer them a
taste of your dish-- unless you have Mr. Leslie's
chicken-- I'm not giving anybody ANY.
It is more like--"No... you can't taste my chicken --
fuck you-- get your own Austin Leslie chicken".
Mr Leslie also inspired a television series -- the
short-lived, but very sharply observed 'Frank's
Place', which starred Tim Reid as the elegant and
funny chef. I don't know a whole lot more about Austin
Leslie.
I know that people down here regarded him as a
gentleman; in the old-school sense of that word. I
know that the chefs he passed his recipe on to have
not changed it even a little. I also know that Mr.
Leslie was a victim of Katrina. He was a diabetic and
while waiting on a rooftop he suffered and cut that
later became infected-- and months later he died in
Atlanta as a result of this. 2 and a half years later;
Katrina is still exacting its awful price.
Last night, I listened to the great Paul Sanchez
sing his reworking of Randy Newman's gorgeous and
elegaic 'Louisiana'-- It's breath-taking-- Paul and
John Boutte changed this lovely song with lyrics
that speak to the anger, sadness, and furious loss of
Katrina-- they don't call it 'Katrina' anymore....
down here they call it 'The Thing'. I worry about Paul
Sanchez -- he is an uncommonly decent and generous
human being who can not leave this place. I certainly
understand this . New Orleans gets in your heart
quickly. It is run by corrupt , incompetent
knuckleheads; and populated by soulful dreamers like
Paul and John Boutte, and Susan Cowsill-- and the
many other gifted story-tellers and singers and
musicians of Frenchmen street, the Quarter , and
Uptown, and the whole damned city.
I always feel like they have made a deal with
themselves: they will deal with ...The thing, the
lousy pay, the inequities and unfairness of the music
business.... just don't take away their joy.
"We were always crazy down here... but now we've gone
mad."
--Paul Sanchez
- bill 2-15-2008 9:03 pm