Emeril's inspirations

Southern Living, Aug 1999 by Gee, Denise

Kick it up a notch with the behind-the-scenes friends who've taught celebrated chef Emeril Lagasse a thing or two about the good life.

Here's the spin on chef Emeril Lagasse: He's the king of "New" New Orleans cuisine; the ruler of cooking-show airwaves; the CEO of 700 employees at six restaurants, from the red lights of the Big Easy to the bright lights of Las Vegas; the curly-haired, boxer-paced host with the absolute most-from best-selling cookbooks to seasoning mixes.

This, on the other hand, is the real lowdown on Emeril John Lagasse III: He's shy. And despite his flamboyant stage persona, "That's just me being a showman on TV trying to keep people awake," he says with a soft laugh. "If I can walk away knowing I've inspired one person to start cooking, I'm happy." The single father of two girls is also still humble, despite numerous accolades and the propensity of people to call him "Emerald."

But the one aspect of his life that gets lost in the media-blitz shuffle is his constant selfeducation about the people surrounding him. He's learned much about Louisiana, he says, from a few people "who've shown me a lot about life, hard work, and the importance of friendship.

"Of course, I have a tremendous respect for Ella Brennan," he says of the doyenne of New Orleans' Commander's Palace, where he made a name for himself. "She gave me polish-period," he says with his Fall River, Massachusetts, accent, now mingled nicely with the similar N'Awlins dialect. "Everybody knows Ella, or should know Ella. But maybe you didn't know about these guys," Emeril says, referring to Acadian culinary folklorist Marcelle Bienvenu, fishseller Craig Borges, and farmer Dan Crutchfield.

High on the Hog

A hundred miles from New Orleans, organic farmer Dan Crutchfield makes silk purses, so to speak, out of the hormone-free pork and other items he delivers weekly to Big Easy restaurateurs. "I like that more people are thinking healthier, wanting quality," he says, shooing away a few curious pigs straying about on his Jayess, Mississippi, farm, Crickhollow. "That makes me happy." Emeril feels the same way. "Here's a guy from Louisiana, who after 18 years of working as a land surveyor, decided that he wanted to be a farmerthe best farmer," Emeril says.

The chef has inspired Dan to experiment, and business has blossomed. Dan grows 2 acres of specialty produce (including baby vegetables, heirloom tomatoes, and edible flowers). Another 22 acres are filled with grazing cattle and hogs, and another 16 are filled with pine trees (a future investment). "I'm just gettin' started at sowing my oats in this field," Dan says. "It's nice to have folks believe in you. It makes you believe in yourself."

That much is true, Emeril says. "In the end, you're only as good as the people with you," he says. "I feel lucky."

Fishy Business

Craig Borges has been studying, smelling, and selling fish since he was a small-fry. His father sold fish, as did his grandfather. "Craig knows fish," says Emeril, one of his first customers. "He knows fish like no one else I know."

At the bustling New Orleans Fish House, a wholesale company Craig and cousin Billy Borges founded in 1990 (the same year Emeril opened his first restaurant, Emeril's), one might imagine it to be, well, fishy-smelling. Not so; it's as clean as a Gulf breeze. "To smell fish is to smell bad fish," says Craig, "and we don't sell bad fish.

Once it comes out of the water, the clock starts ticking." And so does he, supplying the top restaurants in town with everything from shrimp to baby octopus.

"What gave me the courage to keep at this game was that Emeril believed in us from the start," Craig says. "He's a perfectionist; he's taught us to be too. `This is nice,' Emeril might say, assessing a fish. `But I'm looking for something better.' Now I find myself saying the same thing."

Music to Emeril's Ears

With a French last name meaning "welcome," it's fitting that Marcelle Bienvenu's smile and her cozy home near Lafayette are just as inviting. Sipping a mint julep outside her St. Martinville cottage, Marcelle surveys the Bayou Teche setting: mossdraped oaks, small pier, husband Rock's fishing boat, a plaster alligator sunning near the water, an iron fish-fry skillet drying on a fence. The only thing missing is Acadian folk music. It comes in Marcelle's buttery voice and melodious laugh.

These days Marcelle-a respected food writer and historian (Who 's Your Mama, Are You Catholic, and Can You Make a Roux? and its sequel) and contributor to several of Emeril's books-spends a lot of time testing recipes for him "and just being a friend-he's family now," she says. When they first met, she worked in catering at Commander's and he worked in the kitchen. They hit it off immediately. But Marcelle admits that before Emeril ever arrived there in 1983, she did have her doubts about what the New Englander could bring to the table. "I told Ella, `You can't turn Commander's over to a 26-year-old Yankee boy!' But she did. And we were amazed by his never-ending creativity."