On the Nobility Scale of Lifelong Missions, saving a fried rice cake would seem to be somewhere south of, say, saving roll-on deodorant. But what if that fritter can make old men cry on first bite? And what if that fritter freed slaves?
In 1987, Poppy Tooker was running a cooking school in New Orleans when the Audubon Zoo asked her to cook for an exhibition, because, well, in New Orleans, there can be no event without food. She served calas, a sweet rice fritter she picked up from one of her teachers, the Creole chef Leon Soniat. "They were delicious and fun to make, so I liked them, but I didn't know they were special," she told me.
An older black gentleman picked one up, walking away. He came back a few moments later, weeping. "My momma used to make these when I was a boy," he said to her. "I forgot all about them until now."
Poppy was intently inspecting her frying oil for heat as she told me this story from clear, easy memory. But then she looked up sharply. "You know," she said, "that calas brought that man's mother back to life for a moment."
But why had he forgotten about them? And why, despite being a life-long New Orleanian, had Poppy never heard of calas herself? So she looked into their history, and ever since, she has given lectures and classes with missionary zeal on how to make calas, and why we should celebrate their place on the American table.
"Calas came to New Orleans with the slaves from Ghana, where they grow rice," she told me. "Today, if you go there, you can still see people frying them, and they call them cala."
"Starting in the 1700s, calas vendors would stand outside St. Louis cathedral, waiting for church to let out. They had a call," Poppy said. She opened her mouth wide, as if singing, and recited, "Calas, calas, belle calas. Tout chaud!"
"She stood there, selling the calas from baskets perched on her head," she continued, visualizing the scene, describing the colonial class coming out of church in their Sunday finery, buying these treats. As Poppy told this story, I marveled at how she imagined herself into it, how she spoke as if she knew the calas ladies herself. But I guess being on the quest to spread this story for nearly 25 years will do that to a person.
"And here's why it's important. Before Louisiana became American with the Louisiana Purchase, it was the Code Noir that regulated all the roles and relationships between whites, free blacks, and slaves. And in the Code Noir, there were two important rules. One, all slaves had to have Sundays off, so many women would spend the day making and selling calas in the street.
_________________
Recipe for Calas
1/2 Cup warm water
1 Tbsp Granulated Sugar
1 pkg Active Dry Yeast
3/4 Cup Cooked White Rice
2 Large Eggs, beaten slightly
3/4 Cup All Purpose Flour
1 pinch Kosher salt
1/4 tsp Vanilla Extract
1/8 tsp freshly grated Nutmeg
Peanut Oil for frying
Powdered Sugar for a heavy dusting
The day before you want to make your Calas, combine the water and sugar in a small bowl. Add the yeast and let stand until foamy, about 10 minutes. Add the rice and stir well. Cover with plastic wrap and leave at room temperature overnight. This step will really give your Calas a distinctive flavor; think sourdough.
The next day, stir the rice mixture and kind of mash the rice against the side of the bowl with a wooden spoon. Don’t go too crazy though, I like to have a bit of that rice texture in the finished product.
Add the remaining ingredients to the rice mixture, mix well with a wooden spoon. The mixture should be a fairly loose batter, a little thicker than pancake batter. Cover and let rise in a warm place for 1 hour. This step will make your Calas as light as air when fried!
Heat 3 inches of peanut oil in a large saucepan to 365 degrees. Drop spoonfuls of the Calas batter into the hot oil. Fry until golden brown, turning once. Serve with lots and lots of powdered sugar, like Beignets, or drizzle with Cane Syrup. Recipe makes about 6 good sized Calas.
