Under Ella's Umbrella

By Marcelle Bienvenu, photos courtesy Commander’s Palace

I met Ella Brennan in 1971 when I was working on American Cooking: Creole and Acadian for Time-Life books. We became instant friends. After my assignment was finished, I went to work at the University of New Orleans, but Miss Ella and I kept in touch.

“Miss Ella, I don’t know, restaurants are open at night, on weekends and on holidays, and I like having time to date and to enjoy my new home in New Orleans,” I explained.

She promised that she wouldn’t make me work bad hours. I would be working in the catering department, booking tour groups, private parties, weddings and business meetings.

I acquiesced. Within a week, I was at my desk in a tiny office behind the courtyard at Commander’s. The office also accommodated Ella’s office, the purchasing agent’s office, and it was busy with the comings and goings of other staff members, from servers (we called them waiters back then) to captains to maître d’s, and a constant slew of visitors.

While my position was to book, plan and execute events, I soon learned I had to know what the restaurant could accommodate — seating capacities, different menus (brunch, lunch, rehearsal dinners, cocktail parties, business meetings) — to ensure each guest had a great dining experience.

Miss Ella made us all have turns at the front desk to meet and greet guests. Several times, I was told to come in at 5:00 a.m. to work with our purchasing agent when orders

arrived and to check and re-check orders to ensure the quality and quantity. Many times, I stayed late to assist managers in taking inventories of liquor and wine, and checking the number of base plates, silverware, napkins and anything else that needed counting. Miss Ella also made sure that we sent thank-you notes to those who hosted parties or came to enjoy a celebratory meal. I soon realized that I was working long hours, but was surprised I enjoyed it — despite sore feet and my diminishing social life.

In 1975, Miss Ella and her siblings brought in Chef Paul Prudhomme to be executive chef. When Ella and her family announced that they were going to hire Paul, I was stunned. I couldn’t imagine a restaurant of Commander’s caliber with a “Cajun” chef. At the time, you would have been hard-pressed to find a restaurant in the Crescent City offering chicken and Andouille gumbo. (Heck, few people other than those living in Acadiana had ever heard of Andouille.) I explained to Miss Ella that the chicken in a Cajun gumbo was cooked “with bones and skin” and the sophisticated diners at Commander’s wouldn’t like to have to handle whole thighs and breasts in their bowl of gumbo.

“No problem, Marcelle. We’ll take the chicken off the bone before it’s served,” said Miss Ella, who always knew how to solve any problem for her dining guests.

It was an exciting time to see the menu overhauled with Chef Paul’s creativity and the Brennans’ ability to combine Cajun and Creole on their menu.

In 1977, Miss Ella suggested that it was time for me to be in a managerial position and sent me to Brennan’s of Houston to be assistant general manager. Needless to say, I was quite flattered, but I knew I would have to continue learning about the business. And indeed I did, but in 1979, I had the opportunity to return to south Louisiana and open

my own restaurant, Chef Marcelle, near Lafayette in Broussard. Miss Ella was a great cheerleader and we kept in touch. I often asked for her advice and encouragement, which she gave generously.

When the oil business went bust in 1984, I closed the restaurant and went directly to see Miss Ella. What do I do now? New Orleans was busy with the World’s Fair and I was able to get some part-time work. But Miss Ella said, “We need to get you something better than that.”

“Have you given any thought to writing a food column? You come from a newspaper family and you tell great stories.”

Before I could answer, she said that Leon Soniat, a popular New Orleans cookbook author and contributor to The Times- Picayune had recently passed away; maybe I should try to take his place, she suggested. A few phone calls later, she advised me to

go see the editor. In the fall of 1984, I began writing my column, Cooking Creole, which I continued for more than 30 years.

I have so many memorable Miss Ella moments, but one that stands out was in 2009 when Judy Walker, the former Times- Picayune food editor, and I were nominated for the James Beard Award for American Cooking for our book, Cooking Up a Storm: Recipes Lost and Found from The Times- Picayune of New Orleans (Chronicle Books). Although we didn’t win, we were there when Miss Ella was awarded the 2009 Lifetime Achievement Award by the James Beard Foundation. Miss Ella had many awards under her belt, but I think she was overwhelmed with this one.

The award gala was held at the Lincoln Center and when it was over, Miss Ella wanted to go across the street to Bar Boulud for drinks. It was raining and she was in a wheelchair, but my nephew got out into the busy street and halted traffic so we could get safely to our destination.

Despite her busy schedule, she always found time to listen, advise and encourage. Fortunately for me, she was a mentor to me until the last year of her life. I am thankful for knowing Miss Ella, who was gracious, energetic and enthusiastic. She taught me so much — not only about the restaurant business, but also about how to treat people and to make everyone’s dining experience a special one. God only knows where I would have ended up without her. I miss her. (To read more about her incredible life, I recommend the book Miss Ella of Commander’s Palace.)

And, oh, the stories I could tell. For example, one rainy, cold night, Ella called me at home and said to put on a dinner dress and come to Commander’s as soon as possible. A guest had to bow out at the last minute, and she had an empty seat at the table where she was entertaining a dear friend. Within an hour, I was seated at the dinner table and introduced myself to my fellow diners. Imagine my surprise when I realized I was seated next to Carol Burnett! But I kept my cool and the evening was a spectacular success in my book.

After dinner, Ella insisted we walk to her house (at the time a few blocks away) for after-dinner drinks. It was raining; Ella ordered one of the captains to swath us all in yellow tablecloths used in the Garden Room. The Garden District police were called to accompany us on our trek to Ella’s, where a piano player was waiting to entertain us. In short order, Carol Burnett had us dancing in a chorus line in the ballroom of the house.

One Sunday night, I was at the maître d’s desk with Adelaide, Ella’s glamorous and fashionable sister who was always dripping in emeralds and graciously greeting guests. Sunday night was when the “locals” came to dine, and they each had reservations for “their table.” (Adelaide may not have known table numbers, but she knew where each local had to be seated.)

One of the guests, a Louisiana Supreme Court judge, had ordered a baked Alaska for his niece, who was celebrating her birthday. Their server, the only female at the time, had given the sign to dim the lights as she marched toward the table. That’s when the flaming baked concoction slid off the platter and landed on a nearby customer. There was a moment of complete silence before members of the restaurant staff swung into action and did what Ella would have done. They cleaned up the customer with the dessert on his head, told him his check was taken care of, and he was directed to send us his cleaning bill. Another baked Alaska was ordered and everyone in the dining room was offered a drink on us. That’s when I realized that what I always thought was Adelaide’s glass of ice water was really a vodka on the rocks. I always wondered why she was so charming.

One more tale... One night in 1977, while living in Houston and working as assistant general manager at Brennan’s, I get a call from Miss Ella in New Orleans.

“Marcelle, get the bartender to make you a batch of Bloody Marys, tell the chef to get two quarts of turtle soup, a few orders of one of our desserts, and pack it in a box. Then go to the hotel at the Galleria and deliver it to Room ###.”

Within a half-hour, I was knocking at the door and almost dropped the package when I realized it was none other than Robert Mitchum answering my knock! He and his buddies were playing cards and needed some sustenance.

I relate these stories to emphasize how exciting it was to work with Miss Ella and her family and staff. Never a dull moment.

Miss Ella was incredible in that she wanted everyone who dined in her restaurant to know that they were special and that they should have a fabulous dining experience.

She was my cheerleader even when I left Houston to return to my hometown to open my own restaurant near Lafayette. She was always encouraging, always interested in what I was doing.