Sitting high atop a shelf in my office, overlooking my desk like a guardian angel, is a picture of Chef Paul Prudhomme given to me by my good friend Wayne Thompson. Today would have been Paul Prudhomme’s 80th birthday. You may not know who Paul Prudhomme is but your kitchen has likely been influenced by him. Although he’s been dead for nearly five years, New Orleans chefs still refer to him lovingly as “Saint Paul” because of the lasting imprint he left on the world of cooking. Chef Paul was a culinary and creative tour de force, reshaping the culinary landscape the way a flash flood cuts through the terrain. One of the main reasons that Cajun and Creole food is a global, and no longer just regional, delight is due to Chef Paul, who was both a creator and ambassador for Louisiana style cooking. If your local restaurant has a Cajun or blackened anything dish on the menu it is largely because of Chef Paul. Lest you think it is an exaggeration to suggest you can change and influence the world for the better from a kitchen, think back to how much of your life and character was molded and influenced in your mother or grandmothers kitchen.
Paul Prudhomme was the first American chef de cuisine at Commander’s Palace, a restaurant that was inducted into the Culinary Institute of America’s Hall of Fame, and defines New Orleans cuisine as the restaurant against which all others are compared. When Chef Paul took over their kitchen (the year I was born) it was a typical French restaurant but when Paul added the Cajun recipes and techniques from his childhood home in Opelousas, Louisiana, a culinary movement was born. In 1979 he left (appointing Emeril Lagasse to take over as Executive Chef) to open his own restaurant in the French Quarter, K-Paul’s. K-Paul’s helped change the landscape of dining out by providing five star, white tablecloth quality dining experiences in a casual and relaxed setting. He made gourmet quality fine dining accessible to families and regular folks. If you have ever been with me in New Orleans there is a high probability that I took you to this place, and if you have ever asked me where to eat while you are in NOLA I definitely sent you there. For me, it was the best place to eat in the French Quarter and a “never miss” restaurant. No one I ever took or sent there came away disappointed.
Saint Paul is the man who made “blackened” food famous, starting with his la plat principal, blackened redfish. When he introduced this menu item it became so popular that commercial fishing of the species had to be halted temporarily and ultimately restricted to prevent its extinction. If you look in your spice rack right now you will likely find a bottle of Chef Paul Prudhomme Magic Seasoning Blends, and if you don’t I highly recommend you remedy that soon. Check your rack of cookbooks and you will likely find, Paul Prudhomme's Louisiana Kitchen, named a Culinary Classic Award winning book in 1989, and if you don’t you need to fix that too. He also did five years of television, recording over one hundred and twenty-five episodes of cooking shows, helping further establish his celebrity status. His star power came mostly from his larger than life persona and his fearlessness in doing things with boldness and flair, like standing outside his restaurant with a jazz band welcoming people back to the French Quarter after Katrina. He practically invented the notion of the “pop-up restaurant” in an era long before social media hashtags and viral sensations, relying solely on word of mouth advertising to create lines that stretched four city blocks with two hour waits.
Prudhomme is French for a wise, honest, sensible man, a fitting moniker that he embodied. Saint Paul wasn’t just a trail blazing chef and ambassador for Louisiana cooking, he was a man with a heart bigger than his three hundred pound frame. Frequently dressed completely in all white chef attire from head to toe, including scarf, newsboy hat, and walking cane, he looked to me like a sort of Cajun pope of New Orleans. The curve of his smile spanned from ear to ear and was as big, bold, and enchanting as the Crescent City itself. After Hurricane Katrina, while his restaurant was shut down, he rallied his staff to cook for free at the relief center for the military and relief workers, preparing over 6,000 meals in a ten day stretch. A year later Bon Apetit magazine presented him with their Humanitarian Award for his efforts.
Sadly, though poetically, on what would have been his birthday, K-Paul’s announced they are closing permanently, a victim of the economic collapse and restrictions brought on by COVID-19. This jewel of the Vieux Carre, which glimmered though sitting in the evening shadow of the Louisiana Supreme Court building, will now fall dark for good. The loss of a business is never as tragic as the loss of a human life, but it is still a great loss, to those who worked there presently and through the years, to those who dined there regularly, to those of us who loved it and will never get to eat there again. Restaurants are an important part of our culture and communities, and in New Orleans they are akin to churches. People of all backgrounds and stations in life gather around a table and smile as they smell food cooking, and then talk and laugh as they enjoy delicious food together. Lest you think this is an exaggeration, never forget that the Lord made a meal the centerpiece of His church and the eternal kingdom is described as a great feast.
K-Paul’s closure is another stinging reminder that “all flesh is as grass and all the glory of man is as the flower of grass, the grass withereth and the flower thereof falleth away,” so enjoy every day and treasure the little things that garnish life because one day they will likely be inaccessible to you, forever catalogued in the warehouse of your memories.
I’m including a link to an article chronicling the life of Paul Prudhomme published in the New Orleans Times Picayune in 2005. The article details the impact he had on the culinary world.
https://www.nola.com/entertainment_life/eat-drink/article_c8980548-bb97-5757-a962-3f97130d8beb.html
