The Philosophy of Food, Issue #031: Jambalaya Inferno

Last night I further explored the cuisine indigenous to Southeast Louisiana, the region I have called home for more or less half my life.  The dish prepared was jambalaya.  Specifically "red" or Creole jambalaya, which is characterized by the inclusion of tomatoes and/or tomato sauce.  Jambalaya itself is a medley of tasso or sausage, vegetables (typically onions, celery, and bell pepper), spices, rice, and chicken or seafood.  My research indicates that it is usually cooked solely on the stove top, but the recipe I used starts on the stove and ends in the oven.

The recipe I used comes from a Paul Prudhomme, but the photocopy does not contain page numbers or the title of the cookbook.

The Ingredients
Seasoning
-2 whole bay leaves
-2 tsp. ground cayenne pepper
-1 1/2 tsp. salt
-1 1/2 tsp. white pepper
-1 tsp. dried thyme leaves
-1/2 tsp. black pepper
-1/2 tsp. rubbed sage

Jambalaya Proper
-2 Tbs. unsalted butter
-1/2 pound chopped tasso
-1 1/2 pound boneless chicken, cut into bite-size pieces
-1 medium onion, chopped (divide into two portions)
-2 stalks of celery, chopped (divide into two portions)
-1/2 bell pepper, chopped (divide into two portions)
-6 cloves of garlic, minced
-1 small can of tomato sauce
-1 can of chopped tomato
-2 1/2 cups of chicken stock
-1 1/2 cups uncooked rice (use Uncle Ben's if you don't want it to be crunch)

Pictured: fire.

Veggie portion number one.

Veggie portion number two.

Both veggie portions.  They're added at separate points in the process, so I figured it was best to just lump each portion together instead of dividing each individual ingredient.

Tasso.  This is turkey tasso rather than pork.  Usually you can't tell the difference because it is spiced to heavily, but in this instance I could.

The assembled veggies and meat.  Chopping everything seems to always be an unwritten first step in recipes.

This should give a pretty good idea about how finely I cut the tasso.

Chickens.

The Process
As is usually the case, the first step is to chop up all your ingredients.  The onion, celery, and bell pepper need to be divided into half portions.  It's best to reserve each portion in its own bowl.  The first load can also hold the minced garlic, as it will go in at the same time.  I'd also like to take this opportunity to complain a bit about recipes.  I find recipes that list vegetable ingredients in cups rather than in portions of the vegetable to be less than useful.  Saying 'half an onion' is, for me, much more convenient than saying '1/2 cup of onion.'  Using less precise measurements might create some variance in how each instance of a recipe turns out, but for me that's half the point.  For reference, the recipe I used did call for onions, celery, and bell pepper in exact measurements.  I more or less ignored them and the recipe I am providing reflects that.  The recipe also called for only one tablespoon of garlic.  Just for reference, if a recipe intended for more than one serving ever calls for less than four cloves of garlic, ignore it and go nuts.

The next step is to combine all your spices and to set them aside in a small bowl.

Now melt the butter in a 3 or 4 quart saucepan.  Add the chopped tasso and cook it until it starts to brown.  Once that occurs, toss in your chicken and keep cooking until the chicken browns, or at least cooks thoroughly on the outside.

I've heard that Prudhomme has a low fat cook book.  I'm curious to check it out.

Frying tasso has a truly fantastic smell.

The mothership has landed.

A good reference point: this is about how cooked the chicken was before I moved on to the next step.

The next step is to add the seasoning mix and the first load of veggies, with the minced garlic.  Stir it in and continue to cook it until the veggies start to soften.  Personally, I'm not sure what the best way to tell if the veggies to soften is, so I just used the five minute guideline.   Next comes the tomato sauce.  Add it and stir it in.  Then add the second round of veggies and the chopped tomatoes.

Onion, celery, and bell pepper is apparently often referred to as 'the trinity' in Creole and Cajun cooking.

And in goes the fire.

This is now spicy enough to be considered a chemical weapon.

Tomato sauce: it's what separates the Creole from the Cajun, apparently.

 

Trinity, round two.

I think I'm forgetting something. . .

The next step is to remove the jambalaya from the heat and to stir in the rice and chicken stock.  You then transfer the mixture to a baking pan and bake it for an hour at 350 F.  After this period, remove it from the oven, let it cool for five minutes, and serve.  The recipe advises that a 1 cup serving is suitable for a side dish and a two cup serving is suitable for a main course.

And now for the chicken stock and rice.

She's ready for the oven, captain.

30 minutes into the bake my mother came to me with a can of chopped tomatoes. . . crap.  The tomatoes were hastily added and the baking continued as scheduled.

 The Results
Did I mention that the dish is spicy.  Because it is.  Delicious, but the level of spicy came uncomfortably close to exceeding my tolerance, and I am a lover of spicy food.  The key, as I understand, is to lay off the white pepper a bit.  Maybe use as little as 1/2 teaspoon instead of the 1 1/2 the recipe calls for.

Otherwise, it was fantastic.  Very moist, which is how I like it.  Adding the canned tomato in the middle of the bake, in this respect, was probably a good thing.

A little moist, probably from adding the canned tomatoes late.

Dinner is served.

It is a fairly attractive jambalaya, if I do say so myself.

Thanks to the brew gods for Abita Amber, a Munich style lager made by a local brewery here in Southeast Louisiana.  It is close to the perfect drink to serve with spicy food.

Not sure you can see it, but my stepdad's eyes are watering.