This Picnic Was Big, Not Easy

With 1,650 guests expected for the White House congressional picnic on the South Lawn last week, planners decided they needed a cluster of nine commercial deep-fryers, for fried green tomatoes and fried chicken, to be set up on the jogging track.

At the end of the buffet tent, there would be two stations dedicated to spicy gumbo. In front of the Jacqueline Kennedy Garden, they would need more deep-fryers for the production of thousands of sugar-dusted beignets.

The theme, if you haven't guessed, was a tribute to New Orleans. It was Laura Bush's idea, said her press secretary, Sally McDonough, to "highlight the Gulf region, which she has visited 18 times since Katrina," which struck in August 2005.

Senate and House members and their families were expected to arrive soon after 5:15 p.m. for the annual outing, held June 19 and catered by icon Paul Prudhomme of K-Paul's Louisiana Kitchen in New Orleans. White House executive chef Cristeta Comerford and Amy Zantzinger, Laura Bush's social secretary, orchestrated the event.

In addition to temperatures in the high 90s and stifling humidity, a thunderstorm threatened. Anyone who has thrown a big outdoor bash, or ever dreamed of doing so, would appreciate the precise planning, mountain of ice and ocean of cooking oil needed to pull this one off. And it did come off, but not without a last-minute glitch.

To simplify matters, Prudhomme and a staff of 20 arrived a day in advance with about 75 percent of the ingredients, including 500 pounds of fresh, peeled shrimp and 300 pounds of black drum, a firm-fleshed fish that the chef called "perfect for blackening." Prepared sauces, seasonings and dressings were packed in vacuum-sealed bags, submerged in ice and shipped to Washington by truck.

On event day, cold dishes such as the creamy-style potato salad were prepared early in the morning in the White House kitchen and refrigerated. At the same time, for the bread basket, executive pastry chef Bill Yosses baked 1,000 moist New Orleans black muffins, rich with blackstrap molasses and loaded with chopped pecans. During the event, entrees such as the barbecued shrimp and blackened fish would be cooked in small batches, as needed, on portable gas-fired ranges on the South Lawn.

At 9:30 a.m., Comerford and three assisting chefs gathered around the central island in the well-equipped but small White House kitchen. Into large, boat-shaped bowls went precisely sliced and arranged red and yellow bell peppers and plump sugar snap peas for crudites. During a break, the soft-spoken Comerford said she anticipated no problems with the Cajun menu.

"I love spicy food. And back in the 1980s, Cajun was a big thing and a frequent promotion we did when I worked at the Hyatt [Regency] in Chicago," said Comerford, a native of the Philippines who was named executive chef in August 2005. Large outdoor parties are "more a logistical challenge: how you coordinate the workers in that hour before guests arrive, using smaller buffets that you can change quickly and often."

By late afternoon the South Lawn was a precision waltz of dozens of workers in white carrying covered platters and bread baskets this way and that. A powerful, spicy aroma wafted in the hot, heavy air. Briefly, on a stage beyond a sea of picnic tables covered with yellow-and-white-striped cloths, White House spokesman Tony Snow practiced his flute solo, backed by his band, Beats Workin'.

No one moved faster than Prudhomme, 67, who uses a motorized wheelchair because of knee problems. The mellow, bearded chef, noted for his line of Magic Seasoning Blends, once weighed more than 500 pounds but is down to a more manageable 220. One minute he was checking on all those deep-fryers; then, from behind a hedge, he scooted across the lawn to the shrimp station, where he would greet guests.

During a break in the action, Prudhomme said that since Hurricane Katrina, he has "tried to do whatever I can to get people to come to New Orleans." So much has changed, "but there is some good," he said. "The French Quarter was always filthy. The tourists didn't see the trash, they were having such a good time. But now, it's never been cleaner."

Still, since he reopened K-Paul's seven weeks after the evacuation, the restaurant barely breaks even. If he didn't have the spice company and catering business, he said, "I don't know what I'd do."

This was Prudhomme's second congressional picnic; he catered one in 1987, during the Reagan administration. Most years, there is no guest chef. Comerford said she appreciated the help and learned more than blackening tips.

"I said, 'Wow, he's not just about being famous,' " Comerford said as she checked on the buffet line. "He's a very humble person who has a perfect balance of celebrity and passion for cooking."

At 5:45 p.m., the press office said it was time to wrap up the interview with Prudhomme and let the event proceed without the presence of a Post reporter. But a full half-hour after the lawn should have been crawling with congresspeople, only about 100 casually dressed guests, many sporting Mardi Gras beads, were wandering the grounds in the heat. In the distance, some rode in horse-drawn carriages around the drives. Others circled a magician. Few were eating.

As it turns out, both the House and Senate adjourned that day much later than expected. Which didn't do some of the food any favors.

Early batches of the chef's delicious shrimp, with its rich, buttery, complex sauce, grew tough and overcooked in the cast-iron serving skillets. That was a shame.

Asked how he was holding up in the heat, Prudhomme said he didn't mind it at all. "I'm used to that," he said. "I'd be happy if the people would just come a little quicker."