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shallots. That was his thing. He had worked with his dad at City Produce, buying, sorting and packing shallots on ice for shipment. When his father, J.P. Rouse, passed away, Mr. Anthony took over that business with his cousin. It’s where Rouses Markets came from. One time, I told him I couldn’t keep up with all the shallots we had on sale because we were selling so many. Bundle them up, he said. “I’d rather make one dollar selling 10 of them, than one dollar selling one.” If the farmers could grow them, we would find a way to sell them. We still do today.

farmers were bringing in. One time, he asked about the tomato display. It was running pretty low — had any farmers come by? They had, I told him, but the tomatoes didn’t look perfect, so I didn’t buy them. “Boy, don’t you ever leave farmers having to take produce back,” Mr. Anthony said. “They took the time and did all that work to grow those things. Even if they’re not perfect, go ahead and buy them and just put them on discount. We support the local farmer.” But out of all the produce, Mr. Anthony was most interested in the be — I’m out there, it’s just me, Pa and Granny — and Pa gave me a shovel and said, ‘I need you to keep going down until you hit metal.’ And it was a long way down!” Mr. Anthony had Blake searching for a water valve. “I had no idea what I was doing. So finally, I hit metal. And he said, ‘OK, boy, I need you to dig three feet down and five feet across.’ And I was like — all right!” he laughed. “He commented on it the whole time — I was digging the hole wrong , according to Pa. And finally, I dug this enormous hole and shut the valve off myself. Then we grabbed this big Bobcat tractor; we went out there, and I had to wrap chains around the trunk covered in fire ants, and Pa took off on the tractor and this thing was popping wheelies, dragging this big old tree.” The tree’s remains finally removed, Mr. Anthony looked at Blake and said, “Now, don’t do what I did and break the water line, but that’s how you fix every thing else.” Blake said, “I’ll never forget that. He wanted to make sure we knew how to dig a ditch right. He would do everything in his power to teach us.”

Lessons from Mr. Anthony

Jack Miller’s, 3rd Generation Jack Miller developed his tangy sauce at the American Inn, his restaurant in Ville Platte. He knew he had something special when customers started asking to take some home. He first bottled his Bar-B-Que Sauce in 1955. That

by Blake Richard “I was 17 or 18 years old and working in the seafood department at one of the stores,” said Blake Richard, now Director of Marine Supply and Commercial Sales. “It was about a week after Katrina, and Granny and Pa, they were back at home — they were by themselves because everyone was busy running the store. And I remember Pa came to the store and said, ‘I need you, boy.’” Blake arranged to have his shifts covered and spent the next few days helping his grandfather clean up after the storm. “I woke at five o’clock every morning with Pa, and he would get on his tractor and I would help him pick up the branches.” A tree had been uprooted in the back of the house, and when Mr. Anthony tried to pull the rest of it free, one of the roots broke a water line. “It was shooting out everywhere,” said Blake, “and I remember he said, calmly, ‘Come see, boy.’ And it was hot as can

bold blend of tomato, mustard and spice hasn’t changed since. Three generations later, the Miller family is still making barbecue sauce the same way Jack did.

Tony Chachere’s, 3rd Generation In the 1970s, Tony Chachere began mixing up Creole

seasoning blends for friends and neighbors in Opelousas. His Original Creole Seasoning quickly became a pantry staple across Louisiana and beyond. The company remains family-owned, with Tony’s grandson carrying on the legacy — adding new blends while staying true to the bold flavor that made the name famous.

70 ROUSES SUMMER 2025 • WWW.ROUSES.COM