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ROUSES.COM
15
RACELAND
W
hen my nephew Henry was
six, he requested an apron for
Christmas. I was all over it.
You see, the men in my family cook. My
brother cooks, my father cooked and my
grandfather was world famous, or at least
famous in my world, for his turtle soup. In
the 1950s, people came to Raceland from all
over the bayou to dine at his restaurant, the
White Tavern. He served heaping platters
of fried frog legs, fresh caught catfish,
redfish courtbullion and a very popular corn
and shrimp stew, but he was legendary for
his turtle soup.
Papa came from a long line of nightlife
entrepreneurs. His great uncle, Philip
Guichet, was an owner of Tujaque’s, the
second oldest restaurant in New Orleans,
and his father and eldest brother, both named
Armand, operated the Danos Niteclub and
Tee-Lee’s Dance Hall on the bayou from the
1930s well into the early 70s.
So when Henry announced his growing
interest in cooking, I got right on line
and ordered him a child’s size blue apron
with his name appliquéd boldly across the
front. Chef Henri had arrived, my personal
belief in nature over nurture was greatly
reinforced, and I shared a good laugh with
my brother, sing song-ing our longtime
family mantra, “You can take the boy out of
the bayou, but you can’t take the bayou out
of the boy.”
Or girl for that matter.
By the time I was born and growing up
in Raceland and Thibodaux, the White
Tavern was long into its autumn years, but
nonetheless my memories are strong. What
it lacked in customers at that time, it more
than made up in warmth, patina and charm.
And Papa ... well, I would describe him in
just the same way. He was a tidily groomed
man of very few words (if four or five words
did the trick, you got four or five words)
and little formal education. But his eyes
sparkled with a definitive joie de vivre, and
his sly smile made you feel like you were
the most important person in the world.
When I showed him my Tulane diploma
in 1985 at his little house behind the long-
closed White Tavern, he pretty much said
the same thing that he said in 1969 when
I proudly showed him my jump rope skills
on his carport, “Mais cher, c’est ci bon. You
want some turtle soup?”
Turtle soup was our little tradition and
whenever my dad said, “You wanna take
a ride?” I knew he meant to Raceland and
to the White Tavern. I loved the twenty-
minute drive down the bayou. My dad
would tell colorful family stories about an
equally colorful cast of characters, and we
stopped at tiny vegetable and fruit stands
along the way. Creole tomatoes, okra, fresh
green beans — my dad would speak French
with old man so-and-so or we would just
leave money in the tin can provided, an
honor system that always mesmerized me.
At the St. Charles Crossing, we would
discuss if we wanted to switch to the other
side of the bayou for the rest of the way, but
we never did, unless we were heading to
New Orleans.
Often, as we neared the turn onto Old
Houma Road, we would pull over if a
handmade sign on the side of a truck was just
too good to pass up. “Fat, fat crabs” was my
all time favorite sign, and my dad called me
that all through my teens as an inside joke.
Of course, this was well before cell phones,
and we never called ahead to the White
Tavern. We announced our arrival by
arriving. And the scene was always pretty
much the same no matter the time of day.
There would be a couple of barflies on the
well worn leather stools drinking little
ponies, and my grandfather would reach
into a long, gleaming stainless steel fridge
White Tavern Turtle Soup
Courtesy Rosella Bourgeois Bernard
WHAT YOU WILL NEED
2 pounds turtle meat
(available in Rouses Seafood Department)
3 tablespoons Rouses vegetable oil or lard
Rouses salt and black pepper, to taste
2 large onions, chopped
1
large bell pepper, chopped
1
cup celery, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
3 tablespoons flour
4 bay leaves
1
cup of tomato sauce
1
tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
½ lemon, sliced thinly
Optional: potato salad, boiled eggs
and sherry, to taste
HOW TO PREP
Season turtle meat with salt and pepper. Coat
a large cast iron skillet with the oil. Render the
turtle meat (cook until brown) at a medium
to high heat. Remove the meat from pot.
Reduce heat to medium. Add onions, celery,
bell pepper and garlic and cook until tender.
Slowly whisk in flour to make a “roux.”
Return the turtle meat to the pot. Add tomato
sauce and 1 cup of water. Cook for 30 minutes.
Add lemon, bay leaves, Worcestershire sauce
and 4 quarts of water (you may use stock
instead). Reduce heat to low and simmer
uncovered until soup reaches desired
thickness. Serve with potato salad, boiled
eggs and sherry to taste.