Jambalaya, a Louisiana treat

Walt and I hade been talking about it for weeks. Jambalaya, I mean. We wanted a good way to enjoy some more of the shrimp (crevettes, prawns) that we bought at the Asia Market in Tours back in January. And maybe finish them. Jambalaya is a staple of Louisiana Creole and Cajun cooking. I decided to base my version on the late New Orleans chef Paul Prudhomme's jambalaya — I have his book titled Chef PP's Louisiana kitchen.

Jambalaya is a rice dish that's usually made with a spicy Louisiana smoked pork called tasso; chunks of boneless chicken (breast or thigh meat); smoked Louisiana andouille; and shrimp, peeled and de-veined. It also includes a trio of aromatic diced vegetables called The Holy Trinity in Louisiana — onion, celery (céleri-branches), and sweet bell peppers (poivrons). Tomatoes and okra are frequent additions. And spices and herbs, including cayenne pepper, black pepper, bay leaves, thyme, sage, and oregano, are essential. Cajun and Creole recipes are Louisiana born but have French roots, Prudhomme writes in the book I mentioned above. Jambalaya might also remind you of Spanish paella.

The French Wikipédia article about jambalaya says the recipe might have its origins in Provence. The Cajuns are people who emigrated from France to eastern Canada and then were forced by the British to move on to Louisiana. They adapted old French recipes and traditional cooking methods to use North American ingredients. Now I'm adapting Cajun recipes to use French ingredients: smoked pork belly instead of tasso, for example, or other smoked sausages for andouille. Luckily, I can get everything else I need to make jambalaya, or the other Louisiana classic called gumbo, here in France — even okra nowadays. To make jambalaya, sauté the meats and vegetables with herbs and spices, add rice and broth, and bake the dish in the oven until the rice is cooked and the broth is absorbed. It's pretty simple, actually. And delicious.

I've been to Louisiana two or three times in my life. Once was back in the 1970s, when I drove down to New Orleans and Cajun country with a French woman I worked with at the University of Illinois. That was fun, because we spoke French together and when Louisianans heard us talking, they would often speak to us in French. If you go there speaking English, you might never hear Louisiana French. I went back to Louisiana in the 1990s and I made it a point to speak French with people, just to see if they would understand. Many did, but some just said they understood what I was saying but were apologetic for not being comfortable speaking French. For decades, schoolchildren in Louisiana were not allowed to speak French at school. Many never really learned the language, even though they heard their parents and grandparents speaking it at home.