Shrimp Étouffée
Andrew Zimmern's Kitchen Adventures. On the road one day in New Orleans, I spent some time in the Crescent City Farmers Market and got a lesson in etouffee-making from the doyenne of Louisiana home cooking, Poppy Tooker. Etouffee is a riff on the old French verb "to smother," and while there are as many recipes for etouffee as there are cooks who make it, this one is so easy that it's become an instant classic in our house. I can't imagine a better meal than a pot of etouffee, some rice, a salad and a ripe piece of fruit for dessert. Now, "smothered" food in the South means something that's cooked in gravy and that can and should be served "smothering" a mound of rice. It is invariably rich. And while I am watching my weight, I don't cut corners when it comes to the fats in this recipe; I just cut down on my portion sizes. My inspiration is Mother's restaurant in New Orleans, where the etouffee and jambalaya come in four-ounce soup vessels as a side-dish option. Brilliant! A word about authenticity versus quality. I opt for quality. I like food to taste good. So, do I make my etouffee with roux or without? I make it without, so it's red. The etouffees of Lafayette (Acadiana Cajun Country) and New Orleans (Creole) and the surrounding areas all use roux—a cooked mixture of flour and fat (usually butter)—which makes the dish brown. Cajun etouffee is usually light brown and more rustic and rich; Creole-style is dark brown, more balanced, and prepared with a classical French approach. Some Cajun cooks eschew the flour and simply cook onions in butter, and I have heard that Paul Prudhomme uses an oil-based roux. I think the fun is in the arguing over which kind of etouffee is best. It's what I love about Louisiana country cooking. So make this recipe and join the debate.
Andrew Zimmern's Kitchen Adventures. On the road one day in New Orleans, I spent some time in the Crescent City Farmers Market and got a lesson in etouffee-making from the doyenne of Louisiana home cooking, Poppy Tooker. Etouffee is a riff on the old French verb "to smother," and while there are as many recipes for etouffee as there are cooks who make it, this one is so easy that it's become an instant classic in our house. I can't imagine a better meal than a pot of etouffee, some rice, a salad and a ripe piece of fruit for dessert. Now, "smothered" food in the South means something that's cooked in gravy and that can and should be served "smothering" a mound of rice. It is invariably rich. And while I am watching my weight, I don't cut corners when it comes to the fats in this recipe; I just cut down on my portion sizes. My inspiration is Mother's restaurant in New Orleans, where the etouffee and jambalaya come in four-ounce soup vessels as a side-dish option. Brilliant! A word about authenticity versus quality. I opt for quality. I like food to taste good. So, do I make my etouffee with roux or without? I make it without, so it's red. The etouffees of Lafayette (Acadiana Cajun Country) and New Orleans (Creole) and the surrounding areas all use roux—a cooked mixture of flour and fat (usually butter)—which makes the dish brown. Cajun etouffee is usually light brown and more rustic and rich; Creole-style is dark brown, more balanced, and prepared with a classical French approach. Some Cajun cooks eschew the flour and simply cook onions in butter, and I have heard that Paul Prudhomme uses an oil-based roux. I think the fun is in the arguing over which kind of etouffee is best. It's what I love about Louisiana country cooking. So make this recipe and join the debate.
- 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
- 1 medium onion finely chopped
- salt
- freshly ground black pepper
- 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
- 1 1/2 teaspoons celery salt
- 3 cups chicken stock or low-sodium broth
- reserved shells from 2 pounds large shrimp (see be
- 1 small onion coarsely chopped
- 1 medium carrot coarsely chopped
- 2 celery ribs coarsely chopped
- 1 1/2 sticks (6 ounces) unsalted butter
- 8 garlic cloves thinly sliced
- 1 cup tomato paste
- 3 tablespoons thyme leaves finely chopped
- 3 dried bay leaves
- 2 celery ribs thinly sliced
- 2 pounds large shrimp shelled and deveined, shells reserved
- 2 tablespoons crystal hot sauce plus more for serving
- 6 large scallions thinly sliced
- steamed rice and lemon wedges for serving
- Carbohydrate 7.82681642245087 g
- Cholesterol 137.89208048 mg
- Fat 4.04021885346281 g
- Fiber 2.06614300480835 g
- Protein 20.5086036452259 g
- Saturated Fat 0.547677569340066 g
- Serving Size 1 1 Serving (201g)
- Sodium 348.273677921785 mg
- Sugar 5.76067341764253 g
- Trans Fat 0.559729727479889 g
- Calories 149 calories
Step-by-step
- MAKE THE SHRIMP STOCK In a large pot, heat the vegetable oil until shimmering. Add the shrimp shells and cook over moderately high heat, stirring, until pink and fragrant, about 3 minutes.
- Add the onion, carrot and celery and cook until the vegetables have softened, about 3 minutes.
- Pour in the chicken stock and bring to a boil.
- Reduce the heat, cover and simmer for 45 minutes.
- Remove from the heat and let steep, covered, for 30 minutes longer.
- Strain the stock into a heatproof bowl through a fine sieve, pressing on the solids to extract as much liquid as possible.
- Wipe out the pot.
- PREPARE THE ÉTOUFFÉE In the same pot, melt the butter over moderately high heat until foaming.
- Add the garlic and onion and cook, stirring, until translucent, about 2 minutes.
- Add the tomato paste, thyme, bay leaves, celery salt and 2 teaspoons of pepper and cook, stirring constantly, until thick and slightly darkened, about 3 minutes.
- Stir in the celery and cook for 2 minutes, until slightly softened.
- Add the shrimp stock in 3 batches, stirring well after each addition.
- Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to moderate and simmer until slightly reduced, stirring occasionally, about 5 minutes.
- Add the shrimp, the 2 tablespoons of hot sauce and three-fourths of the scallions and cook just until the shrimp are pink throughout, 3 to 5 minutes.
- Discard the bay leaves.
- Stir in the lemon juice and season with salt.
- Transfer to a bowl, sprinkle with the remaining scallions and serve with steamed rice, passing lemon wedges and hot sauce at the table.
A Taste of New Orleans: My Shrimp Étouffée Adventure
The air hung heavy with the scent of jasmine and beignets, a symphony of sweet and savory that only New Orleans can orchestrate. I was on a business trip, a whirlwind of meetings and deadlines, but I'd managed to carve out a few precious hours to explore the city's vibrant culinary scene. My goal? To experience the authentic flavors of Louisiana, and what better way than to try my hand at making a classic dish: Shrimp Étouffée.
I’d always been fascinated by the rich history and culture of New Orleans, a melting pot of French, African, and Spanish influences. The food, of course, is the ultimate reflection of this vibrant heritage. So, armed with my trusty recipe book and a healthy dose of enthusiasm, I embarked on my culinary adventure. The recipe I found was deceptively simple, yet promised to deliver a taste of true Louisiana hospitality.
The process itself was a journey of discovery. The preparation, which started with making a flavorful shrimp stock, was surprisingly straightforward. The stock simmered away, releasing its intoxicating aroma, filling my temporary kitchen with the promise of a delicious meal. I meticulously followed each step, chopping onions and celery with care, the rhythmic motion a welcome respite from the demands of my work. As I watched the shrimp shells slowly release their essence into the bubbling broth, I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
The next part, making the étouffée itself, was equally engaging. I loved the way the ingredients melded together, creating a rich and complex sauce. The garlic, onions, and spices created a tapestry of flavors, and the addition of the succulent shrimp was the perfect finishing touch. The final product was nothing short of breathtaking – a vibrant, reddish-brown concoction with a depth of flavor that I'll never forget.
It wasn’t just the food; it was the experience. The process of carefully preparing each ingredient, the careful simmering, the tantalizing aroma – it was all part of the magic of New Orleans. That night, I sat down to enjoy my culinary creation, savoring each bite of the perfectly cooked shrimp nestled in a velvety smooth sauce. Served with fluffy rice, it was the perfect culmination of a busy day, a reminder that even amidst the hustle and bustle of business travel, there’s always time to savor life’s simple pleasures.
Creating this dish wasn't just about following a recipe; it was about connecting with a culture, a history, a way of life. It was a journey of discovery that nourished not only my body but also my soul. The flavors of New Orleans were truly unforgettable, and the shrimp étouffée I made became a cherished memory of my business trip, a testament to the unexpected rewards of embracing local culinary traditions.
The beauty of this dish lies in its simplicity and adaptability. It's a dish that can be easily customized to suit individual preferences, yet always retains its inherent charm and deliciousness. This shrimp étouffée is more than just a recipe; it's a gateway to experiencing the heart and soul of Louisiana cuisine. The vibrant flavors, the rich history, and the personal connection to the dish all contribute to its enduring appeal. This recipe is a testament to the power of simple ingredients transformed into a masterpiece.
It is a testament to the magic that happens when you slow down, take your time, and fully engage in the process of cooking. It’s not just about the end result; it's about the journey, the experience, the connection to the culture and traditions behind the food. And for me, that's what made this shrimp étouffée such a special and memorable culinary experience. It's a dish that I'll cherish, not only for its deliciousness, but also for the stories and memories it evokes, a culinary tale told through each perfectly balanced bite.
