Southern Bookman

Natchitoches meat pies and my mother's Christmas tradition

My mother made meat pies on Christmas Eve, when we opened our presents in a festive celebration.

Christmas brings memories of my mother’s meat pies, as well as the cakes and cookies she made for the big day.

I don’t remember how the Christmas custom began. My mother had grown up in Campti, La., near the old French city of Natchitoches, where meat pies were a local delicacy. Getting her home economics degree from Northwestern State University in Natchitoches, she’d come to love the old city’s special dish and learned the recipe.

To prepare the triangle-shaped pies, she wrapped ground meat in flour, frying them to a golden brown. She laid them on a plate covered with paper towels, which absorbed the grease. Seasoned with onions and pepper, the ground meat was spicy, especially when drops of Tabasco were added.

A few pies remained the next morning, when we awoke to discover what Santa had left for us under the tree. She warmed them up for a late morning snack, before our big Christmas feast.

Several years ago, I ordered meat pies from a place in Natchitoches, Louisiana’s oldest city, and the location of the book and film “Steel Magnolias.” Natchitoches is also known for its 96-year-old annual Christmas festival featuring more than 300,000 lights and 100 tableaus along the Cain River, an abandoned channel of the Red River.

This year, my sister sent me a package of meat pies from Natchitoches.

Savoring each bite, I'll remember my mother's gift of love each Christmas.

 

Atlanta landmark Zesto's to close because of failed city crime, homeless policies

I was dismayed at the brief Atlanta Journal-Constitution story Friday announcing that the long-established Zesto's on Piedmont Road will close Sunday.

The Livaditis family, owners of the landmark fast-food restaurant that has served ice cream cones and burgers to generations of families, said that labor shortages and "loitering problems" led to the sale of the site at 2469 Piedmont Road to an undisclosed buyer. The Splash laundromat and Fiesta Foods grocery store were also part of the deal.

That a family with deep roots in Atlanta has to sell a beloved business is shocking. I assume that "loitering issues" mean homeless men badgering customers. The Atlanta police and social service agencies have failed a beloved Atlanta business and its customers.

Zesto's is located in a transitional part of Piedmont with a nondescript mix of fast-food places, bars, strip clubs, convenience stores and car-repair places. Homeless people have set up camps in the area. It's sad that Zesto's will close after years providing dining pleasure because  people no longer feel safe going there. An Atlanta institution is the victim of the city's inability to alleviate homelessness and prevent criminal behavior.

The family last year closed its well-known restaurant on Moreland Avenue in Little Five Points after a tree fell on the building. Two Zesto's remain in the city.

Zesto's is not the only business whose customers feel threatened. In New Orleans, Starbucks announced it will close its location at the corner of St. Charles Avenue and Canal Street because of "security problems," according to the New Orleans Advocate-Times Picayune.

I shook my head in disbelief at the news: Canal Street used to be New Orleans' most prosperous thoroughfare. For years, I took the streetcar down St. Charles to that corner, excited at the swirling crowds as I headed to the nearby French Quarter.

Atlanta and New Orleans have failed as cities if people feel fear rather than joy at public places.

 

 

 

"Jazz Fest: A New Orleans Story" celebrates Crescent City's cultural jewel

The documentary "Jazz Fest: A New Orleans Story" casts a shining light on the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, a crowning achievement for the dysfunctional, poverty-stricken city.

Directed by Frank Marshall and Ryan Suffern, the film focuses on the festival's 50th anniversary in 2019, before a two-year covid shutdown. The festival returned this spring.

Showing performances and commentary on the festival by a range of musicians, the film sees the festival as a culmination of the city's diverse cultural mix. 

Along with jazz, the festival showcases hip-hop, rhythm and blues, rock, gospel, folk and Cajun music.

Several years ago, the festival began offering performances by big-time acts like the Rolling Stones and Bruce Springsteen.

Yet, the festival still strives to give attention to local and regional performers, as the film records with scenes from the festival's many musical tents and stages.

The film opens with a supercharged performance by Earth, Wind and Fire at the 2019 festival. Also shown are Pit Bull, Jimmy Buffett, Katy Perry - with a gospel choir - and others.

A heart-rending scene shows the late jazz pianist Ellis Marsalis performing with his famous sons Branford, Wynton and Delfeayo, one of the rare times the family played together. Ellis Marsalis was an early victim of the covid pandemic.

Tears will also flow at Springsteen’s 2006 performance at the first jazz festival following the city's devastation by Hurricane Katrina. Springsteen is shown with his acoustic guitar singing "My City in Ruins," leading the audience to a rousing affirmation of the city's resilient spirit.

Looking back to the festival's origins, the film interviews the late founder George Wein, who launched the New Orleans event after achieving success with the Newport Jazz Festival. Longtime jazz festival producer Quint Davis, who succeeded Wein, is the film's guiding spirit.

Local legends Irma Thomas, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band and the late Allen Toussaint make appearances, along with a new generation led by Trombone Shorty and hip-hop artists. The city's Mardi Gras indians display their gorgeous costumes.

Along with historic jazz festival performances, the film looks at the city's diverse musical culture, with a long sequence exploring the jazz funeral tradition. Marshall and Suffern also trace the origins of jazz and the blues in the city's slavery era, including the Congo Square slave market.

The festival also offers a sumptuous array of Louisiana food. The film looks at the regional cuisines that make the festival a major dining event.

Glossing over the city's poverty and high murder rate, the film presents the city as a major contributor to American culture, as reflected in the jazz fest.

The festival presents New Orleans at its best, a city of joy, community spirit and unbounded musical creativity. 

New York Times' A.O. Scott blends film, book criticism

New York Times film critic A.O. Scott on Wednesday explained his recent move to literary criticism.

In an "Inside the Times" essay, Scott points out that he was a book critic before his hiring as the Times' movie reviewer. His series for the Sunday Book Review on forgotten American writers returns him to literary criticism.

Scott in the article supports the universality of cultural criticism over specialization. He quotes the late Los Angles Times food critic Jonathan Gold, who started out as a music critic. "Criticism is criticism," Gold said, as cited by Scott.  "An aria is like a well-cooked potato."

Following Gold, Scott claims that "any product of human creativity, however humble or highfalutin', exists to be appreciated, interpreted and judged. Whenever we take the time to listen, taste, watch or read, criticism is what comes naturally."

Cultural purists would argue that distinctions are vital, that a Beethoven symphony differs from a gourmet meal. Those traditional elitist views have been challenged by the rise of film and other popular arts. That a jazz composition by Duke Ellington displays artistic refinement comparable with a Mozart concerto is no longer disputed.

In supporting the primacy of criticism, Scott makes an appealing call for an aesthetic approach to life. Following Robert M. Pirsig's philosophy of quality in "The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," I've sought to bring such an appreciation to daily life. An Arby's can satisfy while a fine restaurant falls short. Yet, sometimes a potato is just a potato.

Scott began his series, which will appear in the Sunday Book Review, with an appreciation of the Western writer Wallace Stegner. While I found Scott's defense of Stegner's work unconvincing, I will look forward to his subsequent installments.

As Scott points out in his Inside the Times article, books and film are perceived differently yet share affinities. His broader focus is a gift to Times readers.

 

 

 

Returning to "The Godfather"

Children excited about "Sonic the Hedgehog" screamed and ran through the movie theater lobby as a handful of old folks arrived for a screening of "The Godfather."

Dazed parents lined up at the concessions stand for popcorn and candy, as a couple of older people sat at the snack bar eating sandwiches and drinking beer.

Among choices ranging from "Parasite" and "1917" to "Sonic," "Downhill," "The Call of the Wild" and "The Photograph," Francis Ford Coppola's 1972 Mafia saga was an anachronistic artifact. Art film lovers could see the Tulugu romantic comedy "Bheeshma" or "A Portrait of a Lady on Fire."

But I and a few other aging movie fans had come to the Springs Cinema and Taphouse on a partly sunny Sunday afternoon to see "The Godfather." Like lovers of Shakespeare monologues, we knew the famous lines and operatic scenes. But seeing the film on the big screen offered a rare experience.

For years owned by Atlanta cinematiste George Lefont, the theater located behind a suburban strip mall had grown shabby until purchased by local entrepreneur Brandt Gully. While keeping the feel of a vintage neighborhood theater, Gully added new screens, an enhanced sound system, luxury reclining seats and a full service bar in a $2.5 million renovation finished in 2019.

Along with a full selection of commercial, foreign and independent movies, the Springs Taphouse shows a film classic each week through the national "Flashback Cinema" series. After years of seeing "The Godfather" in fragments on cable TV, I was thrilled at the chance to watch the movie from start to finish in the theater.

Unlike other movies from the 1960s and '70s that feel dated, "The Godfather" remains fresh. The postwar automobiles, clothes, hairstyles, business settings and interiors reveal a lost era of beauty that serves as a counterpoint to the film's misogyny and violence.

Taken from Mario Puzo's best-selling novel, the Corleone family saga unfolds in emotional extremes of loyalty, betrayal, ritual and power struggles. In a darkened theater,  the stunning operatic grace of the brutal murders and beatings rises to a higher pitch. 

Gordon Willis' cinematography of light and shadow and muted colors dazzles on the big screen, magnifying the power of visual images: Vito Corleone's dance with his daughter after her wedding, the canopy of the vegetable garden fluttering in the wind after Don Corleone's death, the Sicilian landscape.

I mourned my youth watching the young Diane Keaton, Al Pacino, Robert Duvall, James Caan, Talia Shire and John Cazale. Marlon Brando's portrayal of the murderous Don Corleone and the loss of his powers raised conflicting emotions of revulsion and sympathy. The familiar lines, special code for the film's acolytes, kept their force.

As if waking from a strange dream, I returned to the antic lobby, still hearing "The Godfather" theme.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival shows city's resilience

I once more knew what it means to miss New Orleans when I read Jay Pareles' New York Times article Thursday about the 50th Jazz and Heritage Festival, which begins this weekend in the Crescent City.

While New Orleans is known for its dysfunctional local government, high murder rate and economic distress, the Jazz and Heritage Festival is an overwhelming success.

As Pareles reports, the festival each year raises $3 million for the nonprofit foundation that puts on the event, which covers two weekends. The foundation uses the money for a range of educational programs and support for local musicians.

Perhaps the Jazzfest owes its popularity to being a daytime event. Going against New Orleans' reputation as a city that never sleeps, the Jazzfest closes each day at 7 p.m., as Pareles reported. That puts the focus on the music, rather than high-tech light shows and such.

Purists have criticized the festival for booking big names like this year's Katy Perry, but out of 688 performers, 600 are New Orleans and south Louisiana acts with mainly local followings, according to Pareles.

This year, a heralded appearance by the Rolling Stones stirred excitement, but the venerable group had to drop out because of Mick Jagger's heart surgery. Then replacement Fleetwood Mac canceled because of some mysterious illness suffered by Stevie Nicks. Now, Widespread Panic will perform.

The event began in 1970 at Beauregard Square, later known as Congo Square, a slave market where jazz originated with the slaves' chanting and dances. Growing success after a few struggling years led to the event moving to the New Orleans Fairgrounds. Jesus, I also remember betting on horse races there as a young man. I attended several of the early festivals at the fairgrounds, but didn't go to another until years later, when the event resumed after Hurricane Katrina.

Along with the music, the festival offers a great selection of Cajun, Creole and other varieties of New Orleans food. Sometimes I think of going just to get another helping of jambalaya.

You can have the Stones, Fleetwood Mac and Widespread Panic. I'm homesick to see New Orleans performers Irma Thomas, the Meters, the Neville Brothers and so on. I'd especially love to see master pianist Ellis Marsalis perform April 28 with his sons Wynnton, Branford, Delfeayo and Jason. Now in his 80s, Ellis played a big part in the festival's early success.

Every year when the Jazzfest rolls around, I think of my late friend Loftin, who had a complete collection of Jazz Festival posters. Hard to imagine that this will be the fifth Jazzfest he'll miss.

This year's poster shows the family of performers who have appeared at Jazz Fest, including those no longer with us like Professor Longhair and Fats Domino.

Many believe New Orleans won't survive. Old and new generations of Jazzfest musicians say otherwise.

Dave Robicheaux rides, and talks, again in James Lee Burke's "New Iberia Blues"

James Lee Burke's Cajun detective Dave Robicheaux finds the cure for aging in Burke's new Louisiana crime caper "New Iberia Blues" - a beautiful young partner named Bailey Ribbons.

Beset by age and creeping toward death in recent novels, Ol' Dave rejuvenates himself in Burke's 22nd book with an ethically dubious affair with his seductive partner, young enough to be his granddaughter.

As with many of Burke's plot developments, the affair serves no real narrative purpose. In this case, there's little more other than the prurient interest of an old man rediscovering intergalactic sex with a young woman who has an uncanny resemblance to the actress in John Ford's "My Darling Clementine." Robicheaux succeeds where Henry Fonda failed, at least for a while.

Rather ineptly trying to put together clues to a series of gruesome murders, Robicheaux embarks upon a tour of the Cajun culture's dark side: blues bars, cheap hotels and rough cabins.

In short, Burke's latest novel is another gumbo of outlandish cartoon characters, gratuitous violence and illogical plot twists. Robicheaux's pet racoon and cat get along fine while humans can't stop maiming and shooting each other.

Robicheaux's indestructible sidekick Clete Purcell returns for comic relief, and the gallery of villains comes from a Hollywood crew shooting a film in the Cajun parishes. Guess Burke carries a grudge over that Robicheaux film starring Tommy Lee Jones.

Along with beauty and intelligence, Bailey slowly reveals criminal traits that make her a possible suspect in the deaths. But her troubled past is just a feint, and in the end, after the real killer is revealed to no real surprise, she goes off to live happily ever after with a film genius who's a Louisiana native.

The brilliant film director, the half-Indian, half-Cajun Desmond Cormier, is also positioned as the possible mass murderer. No worries, he's just a moody guy who likes to hang around with another strange Hollywood type, Antoine Butterworth. Desmond gets the girl in the end, but how he holds off criminal movie financiers threatening him is never resolved.

Robicheaux's meditations on Louisiana's natural beauty and its environmental devastation overcome the preposterous plot and video game violence. Burke's language, underworld slang-peppered dialogue and cinematic scenes lull the reader into accepting his outlandish tricks.

As in past books in the series, Robicheaux comes off as a brilliant backwoods philosopher pondering deep questions of humanity's good and evil, not to mention the best breakfast place in New Iberia.

Once again, Robicheaux, his daughter, Alafair, and sidekick Purcell survive loony hit men, gun battles and a lot of Cajun food. Burke says that Robicheaux and company will return again soon to work their magic. The man can't stop writing, and we, his helpless fans, can't stop reading.

 

 

Tragedy showdows Mardi Gras joy in New Orleans

New Orleans always breaks our hearts.

As Mardi Gras rolled toward its grand finale, a drunk driver plowed into bicyclists heading toward what they thought would be happy evenings after the end of the Endymion parade Saturday night.

Two people were killed and seven injured as the driver struck groups of bike riders on Esplanade Avenue, one of the city's signature streets, according to the Times-Picayune's NOLA web site.

The tragedy showed the joy and despair of New Orleans. Both of those killed were Penn grads who'd come to New Orleans in the rebuilding after Katrina and come to love the city.

Sharee Walls, 27, had embarked upon a successful philanthropic career in New Orleans, showing the civic consciousness not often associated with the city. Away from her nonprofit work, she served on the board of the Red Beans Crewe, displaying the love for the city's customs that often glows in transplants.

David Hymes, 31, was a Seattle lawyer, a Tulane law school alum who had recently joined the great professional migration from New Orleans. While seeking career fulfillment elsewhere, he was still captivated by New Orleans' sense of fun.

The man charged with vehicular homicide in their deaths told police he has a drinking problem, according to the Times Picayune. That's the flip side of New Orleans' joie de vivre. The city has a drinking problem, a violence problem, a poverty problem.

Those of us who left Louisiana still celebrate Mardi Gras. We play our Professor Longhair classics, buy gumbo at one of the restaurants catering to the Louisiana diaspora, bring home a king cake.

As "My Darling New Orleans" plays, our joy is tinged with sadness.

 

 

 

 

Welcome South, Brother and Sister

Super Bowl week is under way in Atlanta, which means that national media are spooking local boosters with stories about our self-conscious town.

New York Times food writer Kim Severson Wednesday morning gave a fair overview of the city's restaurant scene.

Assessing that Atlanta never receives recognition as a premier food city, Severson credits Atlanta for its diverse ethnic restaurants, flourishing in neighborhoods outside of downtown. The exotic Buford Highway corridor, the Ponce City Market and the Beltline receive notice.

Still, I winced when Severson concludes the roundup with Atlanta's love for breakfast and wings. I don't think breakfast and wings will challenge New Orleans or San Francisco anytime soon.

Rating good food towns is subjective. New York and Boston have fine restaurants, but I've had some of the worst meals of my life in each.

I find many of Atlanta's most lauded restaurants pretentious and over-priced. But what do I know? One of my favorite places is the Buckhead Arby's at Wieuca and Roswell roads. And my favorite meal in New York City is a street pretzel, or a sleeve of hot nuts.

Meanwhile, the Boston Globe's Dan Shaughnessy seems to have warmed to Atlanta. In his typical recycled condescending column, old Dan salutes our "Southern hospitality," while slyly bringing up the Falcons' Super Bowl collapse against the Patriots.

Once again, Shaughnessy smugly rips Atlanta as a college sports town rather than rabidly supporting pro sports. Dan apparently hasn't heard about Atlanta's intense love for Atlanta United, and its MLS championship.

Like all Boston sportswriters, Shaughnessy must have a reference to all of Beantown's sports championships on a laptop save key.

No doubt the Patriots will win again, following the Red Sox' World Series title. And Shaughnessy will recycle the same column about Brady, Gronk and Bill.

Give up plastics for Lent

My vow for Lent will be to give up, or reduce, the use of plastics. 

Britain's Anglican Church began the Lenten campaign against plastics, according to a New York Times story. The church is offering a Lenten calendar, not plastic I assume, suggesting a plastic product to give up each day.

The world's oceans are polluted with huge plastics islands because of the imperishable material's widespread use. The Church of England's popular campaign targets plastics used in floss containers, supermarket bags, straws, knifes, forks, plates, coffee cups, bottled water, grocery packages, garbage bags, and so on. 

The popularity of the BBC's Blue Planet show has driven the campaign, the story said.  The effort has gained support of a number of Conservative politicians, according to another news article.

I hope the Lenten anti-plastics campaign spreads to the United States, and plan to do my part. Some steps will be easy, like bringing reusable bags to the supermarket more often. We already recycle plastic water bottles by filling them with tapwater and placing them in the refrigerator. 

Other steps will be more difficult, such as finding floss not held in plastic containers. The neighborhood Publix only has plastic bags for fresh produce, and most other food products come in plastic packages. I've grown fond of Pellegrino fizzy water, and never refill its distinctive green bottles, although I do toss them into the city recycling bin. My three daily newspapers come in plastic bags, although I've noticed the carrier now often places them together in one bag. The deli at the Fresh Market also uses plastic containers. 

I'm sure there are many other uses of plastic I can target. Perhaps the easiest step will be giving up products that come in plastic jars or containers.

While challenging, giving up plastics for Lent offers a way to make a difference through personal action.