Red Beans & Rice

The exuberance and joy of Mardi Gras season calls to me, especially since I learned in recent years that it is more than drunken revelry and people throwing beads at women flashing their boobs. Yes, that does happen when tourists descend on Bourbon Street, and of course that’s what we see in the media— which loves a circus, as evidenced by the news of late— but the true season of Mardi Gras is much more interesting (thank goodness). It’s filled with family-friendly cultural celebrations highlighted with parades, colorful costumes and decorations, and, naturally, amazing foods!

Rather than pretend I know all about Mardi Gras, I’ll point you to my blog buddy, Maylee, who shares the inside scoop on her blog, Beyond Gumbo. Over the weekend, Maylee posted a gorgeous “Best-Ever King Cake,” one of the most signature treats of the Mardi Gras season, with its festive green, yellow and purple sugar accents. Have fun exploring Maylee’s blog, with first-person detail on the parades and so many foods that are truly authentic to Cajun country— far “beyond gumbo,” as her blog suggests.

My own love affair with Louisiana foods also extends beyond gumbo (though I do love it!), and today I’m sharing my first-ever attempt at making red beans and rice, a layered-with-flavor Cajun staple that is as tasty and satisfying as it is humble and simple to make. The first time I tried this classic dish, it was from a package mix (I know, and I’m sorry) and it didn’t impress me much. I was only about 24 at the time, and my curiosity about it emerged after my conversation with the one-and-only Bette Midler. This deserves an explanation, but first, the dish!

Worth the trouble to make from scratch!

This meal comes together with pretty simple ingredients— red beans, of course, and I used small red beans, though dark red kidney beans seem popular; andouille sausage (I used a chicken variety to reduce the fat); the holy trinity of onions, celery and bell pepper; plenty of spice in the form of garlic, cayenne, smoked paprika, bay leaves and fresh thyme leaves; chicken stock and a touch of tomato paste (which might make it more Creole than Cajun, but it worked). 


The whole thing is stewed and simmered until the flavors meld, and then it’s served with cooked rice (mine was brown for nutrition and health reasons). Red beans and rice is hearty, incredibly aromatic, comforting and just spicy enough that I’ve been wondering why I waited so long to make it from scratch. This much I know— it won’t be the last time. 

If you get really close, you may be able to smell how delicious this is!

An unusual inspiration

Now, if you’re wondering what in the world Bette Midler had to do with anything, let’s rewind to my first full-time radio job, where I frequently had the pleasure of meeting and interviewing artists that I’d otherwise never cross paths with. The Divine Miss M was among them, and I could not have been more awestruck!

Most of my celeb interviews were not in-person, but by telephone, and right around the time that Midler’s hit, “From a Distance,” was charting on Top 40 and Adult Contemporary radio, riding the wave of popularity that followed “Wind Beneath My Wings,” her record label arranged interviews with influential radio personalities across the country. Don’t ask me how I got looped into that, because I was definitely a novice at that stage of my career, barely holding influence over myself on the best of days. I considered myself incredibly fortunate.

What I remember most about the 10-minute interview, which was unusually chaotic because there were multiple radio folks on the call, is not Midler’s answer to my own question when it was my turn to speak. I was nervous, and probably asked her something stupid, like “what was your inspiration for the song?” Had I done even the slightest bit of homework, I’d have known that it was a cover, not her own song, and that Nanci Griffith had recorded it first three years prior though that one didn’t make a dent on the American Billboard chart.

Nope, I was far too green to realize that celebrities— the best of whom usually prefer to be treated as regular people, rather than idols— are most excited to answer questions that relate to ordinary things. Thankfully, a more seasoned radio pro asked her the most meaningful question of the call— “Miss M, what is your favorite food?”

And, of course, it was red beans and rice. I’ll never forget it.


How to make red beans and rice

Never one to actually follow a recipe, I set out to learn the techniques that are important for red beans and rice, and there is no shortage of recipes online. My version is a mash-up of various suggestions I considered. As expected, it began with an overnight soak of the red beans. I had seen online that canned beans could be used, but when I have time to take the long route, I’m doing it. Good things happen in a long simmer, and it was no more effort to use dried beans. Be sure to drain and rinse them a couple of times before proceeding.


Getting the flavor party started

The flavor layering begins when you brown the andouille sausage in hot oil. I browned mine in bacon grease, rendered from a garlic- and onion-seasoned bacon I scored at Publix. This bacon was nothing short of fantastic, and though I don’t think it’s quite the thing for breakfast, it would be terrific on sandwiches and it was great in my red beans and rice. 


It’s getting aromatic in here!

Next came the trinity, which I had diced up small enough that each bite of my finished dish could have a little of each aromatic ingredient. Unfortunately, about that time, I realized that my chicken variety of andouille didn’t have any kind of casing, and I knew that it wouldn’t hold up under simmer for two hours while the beans cooked. So I hit the pause button long enough to fish out every last piece of andouille with a slotted spoon. I do not recommend this approach, but this was my own fault. 


Simmer down, now.

Time for the fresh garlic and dried seasonings. I wasn’t sure how much salt I’d need, given that the bacon and sausage had their own, and my chicken stock was not low sodium. So I played it conservative with salt, but still used black pepper and cayenne powder. I added the drained beans and six cups of liquid— four of chicken stock and two of water, plus a sprig of fresh thyme and couple of broken dried bay leaves— I rarely simmer anything without them. I panicked a bit at this point because the pot seemed so liquid-y, but there was no turning back at this point. I kept the lid off while the pot simmered, and I figured that would help reduce the liquid quite a bit.


The final stretch…

At this point, I also followed my new rule of thumb for cooking dried beans, which is to go ahead and add a skimpy spoon of baking soda to the pot. This alkalinizes the cooking liquid, in turn helping the beans to soften as they simmer. It does not change the flavor of the mixture with such a small amount. I wish I’d had my camera ready after the soda was stirred in, because there was a momentary fizzing that was quite dramatic, and then it settled down.


I gave the pot a stir only about twice over the next two hours, and after confirming that the beans were tender, I stirred in two tablespoons of tomato paste. You cannot jump the gun with tomato or anything else acidic when cooking dried beans, or they may never soften. I emptied the cooked andouille and bacon back into the pot, along with a bit fat pinch of smoked paprika, which I probably should have added at the beginning (still learning here). Another 45 minutes of simmering, and my red beans and rice was ready to serve! 

Red Beans & Rice

  • Servings: About 8
  • Difficulty: Average
  • Print

This dish definitely should not be reserved for Mardi Gras! It's immensely flavorful, comforting and richly satisfying.


Ingredients

  • 1 lb. dried red beans (I used small red beans, but kidney beans are ok, too)
  • 6 slices good uncured bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 12 oz. package andouille sausage, sliced into 1/2-inch thick slices (I used a low-fat chicken version, which had no casings; pork variety is more traditional)
  • 1 cup each yellow onion, celery and green bell pepper, chopped into 1/2-inch dice
  • 6 cloves garlic, smashed and minced
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • 1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp. ground cayenne
  • 1 tsp. smoked Spanish paprika
  • 4 cups chicken broth or stock
  • 2 cups water
  • 1 sprig fresh thyme
  • 2 dried bay leaves
  • 1/8 tsp. baking soda
  • 2 Tbsp. tomato paste (do not add until beans are cooked soft!)
  • A few shakes Louisiana hot sauce, if desired for heat
  • cooked rice for serving
  • chopped fresh parsley for serving

Notes: This recipe uses dried beans, which require a longer cooking time. If substituting canned beans, use 4 standard cans (drained) and reduce simmering time to one hour.

Directions

  1. Sort and rinse beans to rule out any duds. Add beans to a large pot and cover with several inches of water. Soak at least 12 hours, and then drain and rinse twice before proceeding with the recipe.
  2. Heat a heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. Cook bacon pieces until crisp, then transfer bits by slotted spoon to a separate bowl. Add the andouille sausage pieces to the pot, browning in the bacon fat until crisp on edges. Transfer sausage to the same bowl with bacon and set aside.
  3. Add onions, celery and bell pepper to the pot. Stir and sauté until softened and slightly translucent. Add garlic and stir for one minute. Season with salt, pepper, cayenne and paprika.
  4. Add drained beans to the pot; cover with chicken broth and water. Bring pot to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Add thyme and bay leaves. Stir in baking soda to neutralize any acid in the pot (this is not necessary if using canned beans)
  5. Simmer, uncovered, for 1 1/2 to 2 hours or until beans are tender. Use a potato masher to smash some of the beans for richer, thicker texture. Alternatively, you can smash the beans against the sides of the pot with the back of a large spoon. Stir in tomato paste and a few shakes of hot sauce if you want more heat. Adjust salt and pepper to taste.
  6. Return cooked bacon and sausage to the pot and stir to combine. Continue to simmer for about 45 minutes to thicken beans.
  7. Remove bay leaves and thyme stems. Serve red beans with cooked rice.


Po’ Boy Shrimp Tacos

Being creative in the kitchen is often little more than playing a game of mix and match. You take a dish you already know, apply another style of cuisine or a few ingredient swaps, and you’re on your way. That’s what happened in my kitchen when I decided to twist together Mardi Gras and Taco Tuesday.

Having never been to New Orleans myself, I already knew something about its foods (well, I mean, who doesn’t?) from friends and internet research. The po’ boy, a classic of New Orleans, is a simple sandwich of inexpensive ingredients—usually local, in-season seafood—fried up and served on French bread with lettuce, tomato and pickles. These humble yet tasty handhelds were slipped out the back door to out-of-work streetcar drivers who were on strike at the end of the Roaring ‘20s (now that we’re here, I suppose I should specify, 1920s). As the locals tell it, a kitchen worker would see one of the hungry drivers coming up for a handout, and shout, “here comes another po’ boy!”

My taco-esque spin on the po’ boy is not necessarily original, given that you have probably seen plenty of shrimp tacos. But the New Orleans flavors are purposely prominent here, from the savory dry spices I added to my handmade corn tortillas, to the Cajun spices in the shrimp breading, to the bold and zesty remoulade that topped it all off. There is no cheese or salsa on these tacos; rather, I swapped in the fresh toppings that you would expect on a po’ boy sandwich—thinly shredded lettuce and tomato. But I did want to keep it in taco territory, so I also layered in some thinly sliced jalapeno, which didn’t bother my heat-loving husband one bit. If it bothers you, leave ‘em off.

If I could hit the rewind button on one thing, I would be the preparation of the shrimp. The shrimp or fish on a true po’ boy would be deep fried in a cornmeal crust, so I went along with tradition on that, but my juicy shrimp did get a bit lost in the density of a buttermilk bath and all that breading, and the whole frying process made a mess of the kitchen and had me frustrated in the end. It was delicious but I doubt all that was necessary. My Plan B was to simply season the shrimp straight in the Cajun spices and give them a quick sauté, same as I do for my go-to Cajun shrimp & garlicky cheese grits. The flavors would have been the same and the overall dish would have been lighter, both in heft and calorie count, so I’ll try it that way next time. 

But then again, it’s Fat Tuesday, so anything goes!


Ingredients

6 corn tortillas* (see ingredient notes)

1/2 lb. Gulf shrimp*, peeled and de-veined

2 tsp. spicy Cajun or Creole seasoning*

Canola or peanut oil for frying (amount depends on whether you use breading)


Breading (optional)

1/2 cup all-purpose flour, divided

1/2 cup cultured buttermilk

1/4 cup fine or medium cornmeal (seasoned with the Cajun spices)


Toppings

About 1/2 cup finely shredded lettuce (I used romaine)

1/2 cup chopped fresh tomato

A few thin slices fresh jalapeno (optional)

5 or 6 slices chopped sweet and spicy pickles (we love “Wickles” brand)


Remoulade

4 Tbsp. mayonnaise

1 Tbsp. Frank’s RedHot Sauce* (original variety)

1 Tbsp. minced fresh garlic

2 Tbsp. finely minced red onion

1/4 tsp. paprika (sweet or smoked)

1 Tbsp. sour cream

Salt and pepper


*Ingredient Notes

You could certainly use store-bought corn tortillas for your po’ boy tacos, and perhaps give them a quick flip through a dry cast-iron skillet to warm and slightly char them just before serving. We love handmade corn tortillas, and I added about 1/2 teaspoon each of smoked paprika and onion powder to my masa dough, to lend a little more flair. See my previous post on handmade corn tortillas for more detail about the technique.

I used large shrimp, 16 to 20 count per pound, but I cut them in half for easier divvying among our tacos. My recommendation for Gulf coast shrimp is not merely for authenticity (it is, after all, intended to be a tribute to New Orleans), but also for the integrity of the product. Be wary of seafood from other countries, especially the stuff that comes out of Southeast Asia, as the industry there is prone to problems ranging from over-fishing and contamination to heinous human rights violations. Is the domestic shrimp more expensive? I suppose it depends on who you ask.

If you don’t have a local fishmonger you trust, look for evidence of standards on the supermarket packaging, and don’t hesitate to ask questions at the fish counter.

To clarify, Cajun and Creole seasonings are not the same, but both are prominent in Louisiana cooking, and I believe they are interchangeable in this recipe, mostly based on your tolerance for heat. Cajun cuisine leans more toward spicy pepper heat and Creole is more about the dried herbs. I used a chile and garlic Cajun powdered seasoning, added to the cornmeal breading. If you skip the breading, simply toss the shrimp directly in the seasoning before sautéing—and don’t skimp!

Frank’s RedHot is the sauce I used, but if you can get your hands on a bottle of Crystal brand hot sauce (the preferred brand in Louisiana), by all means go with that.


Instructions

Make the remoulade ahead, so the flavors have time to meld in the fridge. Stir together all ingredients and adjust heat, salt and pepper to taste. Cover and refrigerate until serving time.

If you are making your own tortillas, make those next, keeping them warm on a towel-lined plate as you prepare the shrimp.

For a sautéed version, pat the shrimp dry on paper towels. Spritz them with spray oil and then toss in the Cajun seasoning until well coated. Heat a small amount of oil in a skillet and saute, turning once, until shrimp are no longer pink. Total cooking time should be two to four minutes, depending on the size of the shrimp.

For fried shrimp, heat canola or peanut oil over medium heat in a cast iron skillet, about 1/2” deep. Pat the shrimp dry on paper towels. Set up a breading station, with half the flour in one dish, buttermilk in the second, and remaining flour mixed with cornmeal, Cajun seasoning and cayenne (if using) in a third.

When the oil is ready (toss a bread cube in to see if it bubbles immediately), toss the shrimp lightly in the plain flour, then dip into the buttermilk and finally the cornmeal mixture. Add the shrimp pieces to the skillet one at a time, keeping room between them. Don’t try to do the shrimp all at once because you will cause the oil temperature to drop too quickly. Turn the shrimp pieces when they are golden on the bottom, and salt immediately upon transfer to a paper towel-lined plate. If you need to add oil, do it between batches and allow time for it to return to proper temperature.

Assemble the po’ boy tacos, beginning with shredded lettuce, tomato and jalapeno (if using). Divide the shrimp among the tacos, dress with remoulade and garnish with chopped spicy pickles.



Jambalaya Deep-Dish Pizza

For such a short month, February has a lot going on, holiday- and event-wise. There’s Super Bowl, which is traditionally the first Sunday of the month; Valentine’s Day, which is fixed on the 14th; and Mardi Gras, which floats on the lunar calendar in tandem with Ash Wednesday. It’s enough to make even the most adept party planner a little dizzy, and for the average person at home, it isn’t easy to celebrate all three (at least, not when you’re hosting others). I’ve wanted to do some kind of Mardi Gras dish for a while, and with Super Bowl and Valentine’s Day behind us, here’s what I’ve come up with for our small celebration—all the exciting flavors of jambalaya piled into a deep-dish pizza.

The only thing missing from this jambalaya-inspired pizza is the rice, and guess what? We didn’t miss it!

As with the other two February events, it is just the two of us celebrating, and that makes it less intimidating for me. Les and I both love Cajun and Creole flavors, and he brought home some authentic spice blends from a work-related trip to “N’awlins” a couple of years ago, so I already have the right accent. We have some fabulous jazzy blues music to help us get in the mood, and I’m sure we have some beads around here somewhere. Weeknights are always great for a casual meal, and pizza has become one of my “blank canvas” foods, begging for interesting flavor twists. I’m going deep dish on this one because you cannot skimp on Mardi Gras (which translates from French to “fat Tuesday”), and I’m not sure that our usual N.Y.-style crust can handle all this excitement. 

Most of the fillings are obviously traditional, from the zesty smoked andouille sausage, through the holy trinity aromatic vegetables and spices, and the plump and juicy Gulf shrimp. I omitted rice because we have quite enough carbs in my part-cornmeal deep dish pizza dough. Creole foods have tomato, so that’s an easy crossover ingredient for pizza. But what about cheese? I wracked my brain and could not think of a single regional dish that includes cheese, but on a deep-dish pie, the cheese on the bottom seems to shield the tender crust from wet filling ingredients, so I didn’t feel right skipping it.

In the end, I opted for the mildest firm cheese I could think of—one that would not clash with all these great Louisiana flavors. Monterey Jack is sturdy enough to line the pizza dough, but it melts well, and it kept my deep-dish dinner from singing the soggy-bottom blues.

Speaking of the blues, we can’t celebrate Mardi Gras without music, so go put on your favorite New Orleans jazz, or enjoy what I listened to while making this pizza:


Ingredients

1 prepared deep-dish pizza dough (recipe and instructions in my post for Chicago-style Deep-dish Pizza)

2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil (mine was infused with cayenne)

2 links smoked andouille sausage, sliced or chopped (I used Aidell’s)

1 boneless chicken thigh, cut into bite-sized bits

2 ribs celery, finely chopped

1/2 yellow onion, chopped

1/2 cup each red and green bell pepper, chopped

4 cloves garlic, chopped

Cajun or Creole seasoning (as much as you can stand)

3 sprigs of fresh thyme, leaves removed

1 1/2 cups canned diced tomatoes, divided (see instructions)

Handful of fresh okra, sliced (or about 3/4 cup frozen sliced okra)

2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar

Splash of veggie or chicken broth (optional, for deglazing the skillet)

4 large gulf shrimp (about 1/4 pound), peeled and deveined)

4 oz. shredded or sliced Monterey jack cheese


Instructions

Let’s run through it together in pictures while you enjoy the Bluesiana Triangle, then keep scrolling for written instructions and a downloadable PDF for your recipe files.


  1. Place a large non-stick skillet over medium heat and swirl in olive oil. When oil is hot enough to shimmer, add cut up andouille sausage and toss until edges are crispy. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the sausage to a bowl and set aside.
  2. Add the chicken pieces to the remaining oil and toss them about until no longer pink. Transfer chicken to the bowl with the sausage.
  3. Add trinity plus garlic to the skillet and toss in the hot oil. Shake on Cajun or creole seasoning to suit your spicy preferences. Grind some black pepper into the pan and sauté vegetables until they are soft and translucent. Scatter the fresh thyme leaves over the vegetables.
  4. Add diced tomatoes, okra and red wine vinegar. Toss and cook until okra is heated through, about five minutes. Turn off heat and allow vegetables to rest a few minutes, then transfer to a bowl and set aside.
  5. If your skillet has any browned bits on the bottom, swirl in a splash of veggie broth and heat to a simmer. Cut the shrimp into bite-sized pieces and toss them into the simmering broth. Cook only long enough for the shrimp to be barely done, which may only be about two minutes. Transfer the shrimp to the bowl with sausage and chicken and set aside.

At this point, if you’re working ahead, you can refrigerate all cooked ingredients, and then bring them to near-room temperature when you are ready to assemble the pizza.

Ready to bake:

  1. Preheat oven to 450° F, with rack in center of oven.
  2. Spread prepared dough into pan, with edges creeping up the side a bit.
  3. Layer ingredients in the following order: Monterey jack, most of the andouille sausage, chicken, vegetables, shrimp, remaining sausage, additional diced tomatoes. Sprinkle with Cajun seasoning.
  4. Bake 25 minutes, rotating pizza halfway through baking time. Rest pizza 5 minutes, then carefully lift and transfer pizza to a flat pizza pan or serving platter. Cut into wedges.

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