Louisianians can’t muffle craving for muffuletta

Louisianians are a mite passionate about their food. Get one of them reminiscing on the subject and faster than you can say Paul Prudhomme, you’re craving red beans and rice with ham hocks and andouille sausage.

This applies particularly, I think, to the Louisiana transplants — those who have uprooted their Bayou souls to seek fortunes in less spicy environments.

When they wax poetic about the food they left behind, it’s with a certain vigor normally reserved for lost loves and other matters of the heart.

One such transplant is George Edmonston Jr., a 10th generation Louisianian who came to Corvallis, Ore., in the mid-’80s to become editor of The Oregon Stater, Oregon State University’s Alumni newspaper. Our sons played soccer together for many years, and one of my favorite sideline pastimes was to get George talking about food.

He’s never claimed to be an expert on his native cuisine. And yet, years of cooking and consuming it has made him one. So several years ago, when I was researching recipes to include in my cookbook project at the time, "The Onion Book," I dropped by his OSU office to talk muffuletta sandwiches.

For the uninitiated, the muffuletta sandwich is a genuine New Orleans specialty, found all over the city from delis to pool halls.

It has the look of a hero sandwich, or hoagie, or what Northerners call a grinder. But it has two distinguishing features that set it apart from these:

It’s made with a round loaf of Italian bread;

It’s includes a zesty salad preparation made primarily from olives and olive oil.

But I wanted to get to the heart of this sandwich, which is why I was sitting in George’s office at that particular moment.

True to form, George’s immediate disclaimer, presented in his Baton Rouge baritone drawl was, "I don’t know a lot about the muffuletta, Jan. I just know I like ‘em."

Fine, I said. I had faith in George’s photographic palate and ability to zero in on most topics.

So I pushed. "Just give me a sense of what makes a muffuletta sandwich a muffuletta sandwich," I said.

"Well, first you have to understand. Baton Rouge and New Orleans have always been towns with very strong Italian elements. When I was growing up in Baton Rouge, the town was literally pocketed with little family-owned Italian restaurants and little Italian grocery stores."

"So the muffuletta has Italian roots," I concluded.

"Very much so," George said. "The guts, if you will, of the sandwich is very Italian, with the emphasis on oil and olives. Why, it’s more like an Italian salad slapped between two pieces of bread."

Which makes the muffuletta a very messy sandwich to eat. So messy, in fact, that if the contents aren’t dripping down your arm, some would say it simply wasn’t made properly.

"Of course, muffulettas to us always meant a sandwich on a certain kind of bread — an Italian bread," George said. "The bread is very thick. And it’s got a thick crust.

"It’s round — like a landmine — with sesame seeds on the top."

"How big?" I asked.

"It can range in size from small," said George, encircling his fingers to the diameter of a salad bowl, "to very, very large. Heck. You can buy a muffuletta sandwich to feed a whole family.

"And the folks who make them get real exotic. Besides the olive relish filling, they add all different kinds of Italian meats and sausages and things like that … "

As usual, 30 minutes of talking food with George had left me hankering for some low-down, bite-you-in-the-gut, raunchy grub. So I returned home and concocted the following muffuletta sandwich.

I felt I had nailed the recipe, but the true test came the following autumn, while hanging out in my publisher’s booth at a book fare.

Events coordinator Christian Waters was standing alongside me as I passed out samples of my muffuletta olive relish to hungry book store owners.

"You know, Jan, I’m a little hesitant to try your recipe. You see, I lived and worked in New Orleans, and my office was within walking distance of the Central Grocery. At least three times a week I’d drop by to pick up a ‘muff’ for lunch and head for my favorite lunch spot down by the levee."

So I held my breath while he took a bite. A slow grin spread across Christian’s face.

"Oh, man," he said. "I’m on the levee now."

Muffuletta is pronounced moof-fuh-LEHT-tuh; nicknamed "muff." Invented in 1906 by the Central Grocery on Decatur Street in New Orleans.

Muffuletta <

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sandwich

Prepare the muffuletta olive relish. Cover and marinate at least 12 hours or overnight.

To assemble the sandwich, slice bread horizontally and scoop out about half of the soft dough from top and bottom. Brush bottom half of the loaf with some olive oil or juice from the olive salad marinade. Begin layering the cold cuts and cheese, then top with as much olive salad as possible without causing it to spill out. Replace top of loaf.

This is a marvelous concoction, which was originally created to accompany that New Orleans standard, the muffuletta sandwich, as described above. Or simply place it in a bowl alongside slices of a crusty baguette and some zesty cheese for a delectable appetizer.