Cajun Jambalaya, Done Vegan

 

My mother was born and raised in Elton, Louisiana, a small town in the Cajun Triangle (the area with points in Alexandria, pronounced Ahl-eck for short; Lafayette and Lake Charles). The poverty was real, but even during the Depression, they still managed to grow plenty of rice and sugar cane, and fish for sac-au-lait and crawfish, and hunt for ducks. My grandfather had a herd of cattle that foraged in the dense woods, and would ride his horse to round them up by nightfall. My mother had to milk their stingy teats to get what little milk they provided before heading off to school. She was the youngest of five girls and a boy, and the first to learn English before starting school. 

But the food was good, spicy but not mouth-burningly hot, and heavily rice-based. They loved their rice, and looked aghast at anyone who would cook it with tomatoes and ruin the texture. (They liked tomatoes, but in a sauce or as a side dish.)

I’m sure there were times when the ducks had migrated, the pork from the pigs that were slaughtered in the fall ran out, the chickens refused to lay. But if there were any recipes for jambalaya that didn’t have tasso (a spicy ham) or andouille sausage or chicken or all three, they weren’t in my mother’s recipe box.

I made this vegan version for my book club ladies earlier this month, and they liked it a lot. Since I now live in Sacramento, I toned down the amount of cayenne pepper, but had my hot sauce available for any brave souls who needed it.

Lori K’s Vegan Jambalaya

Serves 6-8

Seasoning mix:

4 small whole bay leaves, dried

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon white pepper

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1 teaspoon smoked paprika

Pinch of cayenne

1 teaspoon of filé powder (ground sassafras leaves, also called filé gumbo)

½ teaspoon ground cumin

½ teaspoon dried thyme leaves

2 cups uncooked rice (I like basmati, but any long-grain rice will do)

4 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 large chopped onion

1 cup finely chopped celery

1 cup chopped green bell pepper

1 cup chopped red, yellow or orange bell pepper

2 cloves minced garlic

1 can of beans, rinsed and drained (any unseasoned type will do; I prefer cannellini beans)

3 cups vegetable stock (be sure it doesn’t contain tomatoes or tomato juice; if you can’t find it, and haven’t made your own from vegetable peelings and scraps, Seitenbacher makes a good instant vegan broth)

1 tablespoon nutritional yeast

1 teaspoon soy sauce

Instructions

Thoroughly combine the seasoning mix in a small bowl and set aside.

Rinse the rice until clear, drain and put in an oiled 9x13 glass pan. Set aside.

Heat oven to 375 degrees F.

Heat oil in a heavy skillet over medium high heat; add the onion, celery, peppers and garlic and cook until the onions are translucent. Add the seasoning mix and cook 5 minutes or until lightly browned. Scrape it into the pan over the rice. Sprinkle the beans over the vegetables.

Bring the vegetable stock to a boil. Add the yeast and soy sauce. Pour slowly over the rice and vegetables and cover tightly with foil. Put in the oven and bake for 30 minutes. Check to see if the rice is browning around the edges; if so, turn down the head to 350 and bake 15 minutes more. Otherwise, continue baking for 10 minutes at 375, and if the rice is tender but still a little crunchy, take it out of the oven and cover tightly. Let it rest, covered, for about 10 minutes. Serve.

Jambalaya, bayou, mio-my-o

(whoever posted this did not include the lyrics. You can find them HERE.)

I hope everyone had a relaxing Presidents Day. I ate a little leftover jambalaya (made with smoked turkey sausage and Virginia ham, which required ditching the salt and using more cayenne pepper) for lunch and if you're new to this blog, you probably haven't gone back far enough to try my "use whatever you have handy" jambalaya. Since today's Fat Tuesday, the day where you are supposed to use up everything you're not suppose to eat or drink during Lent (fat, rich meats, alcohol), I thought I'd post it again.

Unfortunately, Episcopal tradition has Shrove Tuesday pancakes, so that's what I'll be eating tonight. If you're in Charlottesville, join us for them at St. Paul's Memorial Church on the Corner at 6 tonight. They're not Cajun, but they are very good, and a parishioner usually provides real maple syrup from Vermont for the meal.

Lori K's generic jambalaya

Serves 6

2 large California bay leaves (or 4 small ones)

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1 teaspoon gumbo filé (ground sassafras leaves, optional)

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground thyme

1/2 teaspoon white pepper

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

1/8 to 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper, to taste

2 tablespoons oil

1 cup of diced smoked sausage (andouille, kielbasa or turkey) or smokey ham

1 cup raw chicken, duck, pork or seafood

1 onion (about a cup)

1 cup finely diced celery

1 cup diced bell pepper

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 cups uncooked rice (long grain or converted)

4 cups chicken, duck, turkey, seafood or vegetable stock

Thoroughly combine the spices (all the ingredients before the oil) in a small bowl and set aside.

Heat the oil in a cast-iron skillet over high heat and add the meats (if using seafood, add it near the end of the cooking time). Cook for 5 minutes, then add the vegetables and the spice mix. Cook until everything is browned, about 10 minutes. Scrape the bottom of the pan well, and add the rice. Cook another 5 minutes, then add the broth. Bring to a boil, cover and cook over low heat for 20 minutes, or until most of the liquid is absorbed. Stir well, remove the bay leaves, and serve.

Gumbo warms the soul

Although anytime is gumbo time in my house, I know a lot of people like it best in the winter. Gumbo is often associated with seafood, and indeed that version is delicious, but really, all kinds of things can make a good gumbo, and Cajuns are adept at using whatever is on hand ("We were so poor that all we had for gumbo was an egg." "You had an egg! An egg would have been so good.").

So here's a recipe I use often, adapted from "Chef Paul Prudhomme's Louisiana Kitchen." Enjoy!

Chicken & Smoked Sausage Gumbo
adapted from Chef Paul Prudhomme’s version
10 servings

Use chicken, duck, sausage, beef, seafood and vegetables, depending on what's available in your area.

Ingredients
3 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs, all visible fat removed, diced into 1 inch chunks
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons Cajun spice (see below)
1 cup finely diced onions
1 cup finely diced green bell peppers
3/4 cup finely diced celery
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
Vegetable oil for frying
7 cups chicken stock
1/2 pound andouille smoked sausage, diced (or kielbasa, and add a 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper)
1 teaspoon minced fresh garlic
2 bay leaves
10 teaspoons file gumbo
2 1/2 cups hot cooked white rice
Instructions
Sprinkle the chicken evenly with 2 tablespoons of the Cajun spice and rub it in well. Let stand at room temperature while you dice the vegetables.
Combine the onions, bell peppers and celery in a bowl and set aside.
Combine the remaining spice with the flour in a paper or plastic bag. Add the seasoned chicken pieces and shake until the chicken is well coated. Reserve 1/2 cup of the seasoned flour. Heat 1/2 cup of oil in a large, heavy skillet and fry the chicken until the crust is brown on both sides and the meat is cooked, about 5 to 8 minutes. You may have to fry the chicken in batches. Drain on paper towels.
Return the pan to medium high heat and gradually whisk in the reserved 1/2 cup seasoned flour. Cook, whisking constantly, until the roux is dark red-brown, being careful not to let it scorch or splash on your skin. Remove the pan from the heat and immediately add the vegetables, stirring constantly until the roux stops getting darker. Place the pan over low heat and cook, stirring constantly and scraping the pan bottom well, until the vegetables are soft, about 5 minutes.
Meanwhile, bring the stock to a boil in a 5-quart saucepan or Dutch oven. Add the vegetable mixture by spoonfuls to the boiling stock, stirring between each addition until the roux is dissolved. Return to a boil, stirring and scraping the pan bottom often. Reduce the heat to low, stir in the sausage, garlic, and bay leaves and simmer uncovered for 45 minutes, stirring often toward the end of the cooking time.
When the gumbo has cooked for 45 minutes, stir in the chicken and when the chicken is hot, serve immediately. Mound 1/4 cup cooked rice and a teaspoon of file in the center of a low soup bowl, and ladle 3/4 cup of gumbo around the rice.

Cajun spice
1 1/2 tablespoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons sweet or smoked paprika
1 teaspoon white pepper
1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
3/4 teaspoon thyme leaves
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon oregano leaves

Blend all in a spice grinder. Use within a year.

Cajun without a cookbook

Growing up with a Cajun mother, you'd think I would have been eating gumbo, jambalaya, étouffée and blackened steak every night. But no. My mother was a wonderful cook, but my Polish father, with one exception, pretty much called the dinner shots. That one exception was steak night; my mother insisted that we have rice, not potatoes, when she cooked steak, and the au jus flavored the white long-grain rice.

So it wasn't until I latched onto a copy of Paul Prudhomme's "Louisiana Kitchen" that I began eating Cajun food regularly at home. Oh, it was great; finally I didn't have to wait to go to Polly's or some other little greasy spoon near Elton (my mother's hometown) to get my Cajun food fix.

But any cookbook should be a road map, not commandments chiseled in stone. Take my jambalaya last night. Prudhomme has a ham and sausage jambalaya, a rabbit (or chicken) jambalaya, a chicken and tasso jambalaya. They are all pretty good, but most of them call for some tomato sauce or canned tomatoes. That just exposes Prudhomme's New Orleans training; most Cajuns do not cook with tomatoes, most Creoles do.

Tasso isn't expensive in Louisiana; but in many other places, it's rare and dear. And that defeats the purpose of Cajun cooking: making what's available taste wonderful. Tasso, for those of you who aren't familiar with Louisiana ingredients, is a smoky seasoning meat not unlike ham.

What is available here in Virginia is ham chips. They are fairly smoky, very salty, and work well as seasoning. I also had a pack of chicken thighs from the last time I cut up a trio of chickens. Voilà! I could work with that.

Lori K's jambalaya with chicken thighs and Virginia ham chips

Ingredients

Seasoning mix

3 California bay leaves, broken in half

1 teaspoon white pepper

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon ground sassafras leaves (filé)

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground thyme

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

4 tablespoons olive oil

10 ounces Virginia ham chips

6 chicken thighs (bone in)

1 1/2 cups chopped onion

1 cup finely diced celery

1 cup chopped bell peppers

2 large cloves garlic, minced

2 cups uncooked long-grain or basmati rice

4 cups chicken broth

1 teaspoon liquid smoke

Instructions

Combine seasoning mix ingredients in a small bowl and set aside.

In a large cast iron skillet, heat the oil until it begins to smoke; add chicken breasts and cook until browned on both sides. Turn down the heat a little and remove chicken pieces to a large ovenproof casserole. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Cook the ham until it sizzles and add the vegetables and seasoning mix, stir well and continue cooking until browned, about 10 minutes. Add the rice and cook another 5 minutes, scraping and stirring the mixture. Put the broth in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Put all the contents of the pan into the casserole with the chicken. Add the broth, and put in the oven. Cook for 45 minutes to an hour, until all the liquid is absorbed. Remove bay leaves and serve immediately.

True Cajun - hold the tomatoes

As many of you know, my mom, rest her soul, was Cajun through and through. But when she was growing up in the early part of the 20th century, it wasn't anything to be proud of - in fact, she and her brother and sisters did all they could to speak without an accent and learn to cook American. She told me she was the first child in her family who went to school speaking English; she would talk to her parents in English and they would answer her in French. She didn't become truly bilingual until she moved back to Louisiana after my dad retired.

But there were ways to "cook French" in her culture, and one of tenets was that jambalaya, étouffée and gumbo never, EVER, had okra or tomatoes in them. I'm not sure why, but I think it had to do with the breakdown of vegetables during the long cooking times. Vegetables, including tomatoes and okra, were often served separately at dinner.

In recent years, Cajun food has taken on the trappings of many ethnic cuisines: specialized spices, hard-to-acquire meats and seafoods, and esoteric, complicated instructions. I'm here to say that only the spices are required, along with the "holy Trinity" of onion, bell pepper and celery. The cuisine was developed to feed large numbers of people with whatever was on hand. So go with what you have. Just don't add tomatoes.

Lori K's generic jambalaya

Serves 6

4 small bay leaves

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1 teaspoon gumbo filé (ground sassafras leaves, optional)

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground thyme

1/2 teaspoon white pepper

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

2 tablespoons oil

1 cup of diced smoked sausage (andouille, kielbasa or similar) or smokey ham

1 cup raw chicken, pork or seafood

1 onion (about a cup)

1 cup finely diced celery

1 cup diced bell pepper

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 cups uncooked rice (long grain or converted)

4 cups chicken, seafood or vegetable stock

Thoroughly combine the spices (all the ingredients before the oil) in a small bowl and set aside.

Heat the oil in a cast-iron skillet over high heat and add the meats (if using seafood, add it with the rice). Cook for 5 minutes, then add the vegetables and the spice mix. Cook until everything is browned, about 10 minutes. Scrape the bottom of the pan well, and add the rice. Cook another 5 minutes, then add the broth. Bring to a boil, cover and cook over low heat for 20 minutes, or until most of the liquid is absorbed. Stir well, remove the bay leaves, and serve. 

Photograph c. 1938 of a Cajun woman hulling rice in Crowley, LA