Shrimp Remoulade
Mom, Nonnie & Uncle Robert at Uncle Frank’s wedding. Pittsboro, NC. 1966.
It’s fitting to have a photo of Robert in my Shrimp Remoulade post. Robert had a New Orleans restaurant in Berkeley, CA called Angeline’s.
Mom, Elisabeth & Nonnie. Christmas 1979. Kingsport, TN.
We all know by now that Dale knew how to host. Now, how did she know? Well, that credit falls firmly on her mom, my Nonnie, Phyllis Volberg. Nonnie was the most elegant woman in East Tennessee, and I’ll venture to say the South. My Uncle Rich, who is gay, is STILL talking about how in love with her he was! Everyone was in love with her! Once Elizabeth Taylor came through East Tennessee for some event and Nonnie was tasked with entertaining her for the day. Nonnie told me that she asked to see Elizabeth’s evening gown and that it was filthy. She set about making it clean for the night. You know, as a good girlfriend would. I love that she wasn’t too intimidated to offer Elizabeth Taylor help. Nonnie said that Elizabeth was sweet and kind of sad.
Mom and Nonnie had a really close, creative relationship. They were always sharing recipes and helping each other with crazy quilts and other projects. Nonnie was a painter and she influenced me a great deal. When we were little, she would take us out into the fields of Tennessee to draw with pastels. Her creativity trickled down to multiple generations of Volberg women. I can see it in my daughter. As I commented to a professor in college, we have an ingrained family color palette: lots of rusts and burgundies and golds.
Nonnie wouldn’t have been the easiest mother in some sense because she was so beautiful and expected the same from everyone. I remember her once telling me that I “owed it to the world to be as thin and put together as I could be”. Um, barf. She was from a different generation and her beauty was her currency. Nonnie visited me in New York once and I had some art school friends over for a “cocktail party”. First of all, Nonnie was concerned that I didn’t have enough booze. She liked her cocktails! When the appointed time came, my friends rolled in in their overalls and snow boots, happy for some free cheese. Nonnie - always the showgirl - came out from the sliding doors of my bedroom, a little fashionably late, in leather pants and kitten heels with a scarf dramatically thrown over her shoulders. My friends were amazed! (Nonnie told me that it was best to travel in leather pants because they didn’t wrinkle.)
Mom and Nonnie were always trading ideas and when we got a hatchback car, a Chevy Citation, Nonnie did as well. I think she cursed our name for years after because that car was nothing but trouble! Now, the Chevy Citation. We had that car forever. We were really excited at first to get it, having never had a hatchback. It meant we could put the seats down and lie in our sleeping bags for long trips to Tennessee. But, soon after purchase, the backseat window levers fell off rendering us slaves to whatever air flow was occurring elsewhere (and Dad’s smoking!). The vinyl seats would get hot as hell in the summer. I remember pools of sweat collecting under my thighs. And, the color? Well, that’s a whole story. When we were buying the car, Dad was sent off to make the deal. We had been pouring over the brochure for weeks. As he left, Mom yelled, “anything but the ‘Metallic Camel’ color!!!”. A few hours later, BEEP BEEP, Dad rolls up in a, you guessed it, Metallic Camel (kind of a pink bronze) Chevy Citation. For *some* reason, it had been on sale! We got to live with that $300 savings for the next decade.
Nonnie’s name was Phyllis and my Reed grandmother’s name was Alice. When tossing around potential baby names, Mom and Dad briefly asked “Well, what if we combine the two?”. Um, no. Say it out loud (“phallus”). Ha ha. And, on that classy note, what recipe shall I share today?! I always think of shrimp when I think of Nonnie. She had a place at Fripp Island in Lowcountry South Carolina. When Nonnie was having a party, she would buy peeled shrimp from this old Gullah man on one of the islands you crossed to get to Fripp. I went with her a few times and was fascinated watching them communicate, as neither spoke the same language. I wondered what he must think having this glamourpuss lady drive up to his little house. For the party, Nonnie would boil the shrimp and serve them in huge bowls on the dining table with cocktail sauce. I loved this shrimp so much that I would sit under that dining table during the party and chow down. Easy access! So, for today, since you don’t really need a recipe for boiled shrimp, I’ll give you one of Mom’s recipes for Shrimp Remoulade. I hung out with Mom and Dad in New Orleans and Mom would order Shrimp Remoulade whenever it was available, it was her favorite. This is someone named Betty Lou Watson’s recipe. I don’t know who that is, but it’s great! I’ve made the Galatoire’s recipe before and it’s ok, but they definitely leave out a secret ingredient because it’s not as good as it is in the restaurant. (Or, I’m not as drunk.) Enjoy!
UPDATE FROM DAD: Betty Lou Walston is sort of the Nonnie of Wilson, NC. She’s a great hostess and excellent New Orleans cook.
SHRIMP REMOULADE
(from Betty Lou Walston)
1 to 1 ½ lbs. cooked shrimp
¼ cup olive oil
¼ cup Duke's mayonnaise
3 tablespoons spicy or creole mustard
2 tablespoons horseradish or to taste
One tablespoon lemon juice
One teaspoon red wine vinegar
2-4 cloves garlic pressed
Hot sauce or pepper to taste
Gradually whisk oil into mayo. Add other sauce ingredients and mix with shrimp.
AS USUAL, KEEP ME POSTED!
Email and subscription button below.