I love cookbooks. I've got a slew of them.

Some were bought. Some were gifts. Some were inherited, while others were rescued.

Each of my books has its purpose. Some I just read. Others I actually use. One can easily tell the difference.

The ones I read get the good spots - the family room coffee table, a desk in the guest room, my nightstand. Their covers and pages are too picturesque to bring them into the kitchen.

The ones I use, or abuse, fill shelves, cabinets and closets. They're stuffed with notes scribbled on old envelopes and colored sticky notes. Some have smudges of tomato sauce, grease or chocolate.

My books run the gamut of the cooking world. Some are Cajun, some are Creole, some are from other cuisines of Louisiana. Ever heard of Isleno?

I think I've got the Junior League cookbook of every Louisiana chapter, while some are from Leagues in other states.

My most abused cookbooks are the reference-style books, ones that have glossaries of food words, little known food facts, how-to sections that I've referred to countless times. My most treasured have the tried and true recipes of South Louisiana cuisine. None of these have recognizable covers!

If I can't seem to part with this wealth of recipes, it's high time I share them. One column every month will be devoted to doing just that.

Let's start with one charming book I've read and used. It's called Cooking with Cajun Women by Nicole Fontenot of Lake Charles, a high school teacher of gifted children. The book is the result of her research for her master's thesis in American history at the University of Louisiana. Fortunately for us in Acadiana, her focus was on the preservation of Cajun culture.

While the book is filled with standards from gumbo to étouffée, it also contains the poignant, slowly fading recipes that our grandmas and nan-nans made that we no longer have in our seasonal cooking repertoire.

One such recipe is for the beloved doughnut that my Tee Lulu called croquesignoles (pronounced Croke-see-yawlz). In Fontenot's cookbook, the recipe is spelled "crocialles," closer to the way it sounds. Whatever its true spelling may be, I have yet to find its origin. The term seems exclusive to western parts of Acadiana, while the rest of Louisiana just calls them "beignets."

On the occasions that I got to "spend the night" over at Tee Lulu's, I could look forward to a croquesignole breakfast. After making a soft dough, she would roll out the dough on a well-worn bread board on the kitchen counter. She sliced the dough into rectangles, then slit each piece lengthwise with the tines of a fork. She showed me how to sop them up with some Steen's Syrup and a cup of coffee milk.


Croquesignoles
Oil for frying
2 cups of self-rising flour

2 tablespoons of sugar

1 egg, well beaten

1 1/4 cups of milk

Heat oil in a deep fryer to 375 degrees. In a bowl, combine flour and sugar. Stir in egg and milk. Form a soft dough. For dropped croquesignoles, drop by tablespoonfuls into oil. For rolled croquesignoles, add a little more flour and roll out dough on floured surface. Cut into rectangles about 2 by 4 inches long. Slit the center lengthwise with the tines of a fork. Drop into oil. Fry dropped or rolled croquesignoles until golden brown. Drain on absorbent paper. Sprinkle with confectioner's sugar, cinnamon sugar or serve with cane syrup. Yields 2 dozen rolled, 4 dozen dropped.

(Janice LeBlanc writes about the foodways and folkways of South Louisiana. See more recipes on her Web site at www. onmyplate.com.)


Janice LeBlanc