At my last job, I had the blessing and the curse of being required to travel... a lot. Usually it was only one week a month, but there was one stretch where I was on the road for 34 days straight. I would fly to one town for an install, then come home for less than 24 hours to wash everything in the suitcase. Then I'd be back in the air the next morning to a group training or data gathering trip, followed by another quick trip home and then out again for another install. Thank god this all happened before I had kids.
The one redeeming factor of that marathon was the last stop in New Orleans. It was my second trip to the Big Easy and I had learned what not to do the first time I visited. First, don't waste your time on Bourbon Street, unless all your looking for is cheap alcohol, cheaper souvenirs and rows of sleazy strip joints. Second, take the side streets and look for the hole in the wall shops. They're the ones that have the interesting bits of memorabilia and much more local flavor. I ended up in a voodoo shop one time and was able peruse authentic voodoo ingredients. After some polite and respectful questions posed to the shop owner, she took me into the back room and showed me all the REALLY good stuff. I walked out of there with a free alligator head and a few other tools/trinkets that cannot be mentioned due to a solemn oath made to the priestess behind the counter. Let's just say my enemies have felt the effectiveness of each and every item.
But third, and most importantly, the best food can be found far away from Bourbon Street. On that second trip to New Orleans, the sky was slightly overcast with the occasional mist-like rain, but that didn't frighten the local restaurateurs. Many of the little restaurants have large doors along the length of the building that open wide to the street. Perfect to expose the patrons to a great people-watching view. Rain is nothing new so those doors stayed opened wide while I sat a little table just off the sidewalk. As I sat there eating a bowl of some of the best Jambalaya I've had in my life, a traditional jazz band led a funeral procession down the street. It was an almost jubilant and the mourners carried the casket to the rhythm of the music. I know now what my funeral will be like. All in all it was a great experience and one I never would have had if I limited myself to the blaring frat house attitude of Bourbon Street
Trying to recapture that moment is hard in Salt Lake. The only decent jazz we have is the basketball team, and that's only on occasion. And there are a only a few places in town that can come close to replicating the cajun and creole tastes of New Orleans. So I've tried to make my own batch of jambalaya at home. I think I've come pretty darn close to what I had on that French Quarter street corner. The andouille sausage is surprizingly easy to find. Harmon's carries it, as well as any of the specialty meat shops, like Colossimo's or Snyder's Meats. All of the other ingredients are easily found in any grocery store. The key to the recipe is giving the flavors time to intermingle. When almost everything is in the pot, put on the lid and let it be. Don't taste test it, don't stir it, don't disturb it until it's time to add the shrimp. The rice needs time to soak in all the goodness and if you remove that lid, it'll evaporate into the ether.
This will also store in the fridge for about a week, so this can be a perfect lunch during the week. And the aroma will stir a number of conversations in the lunch room when you warm it up.
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
8 ounces boneless skinless chicken breast, cubed into 3/4-1 inch pieces
8 ounces andouille sausage (usually two sausages)
1 more tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped red or green bell pepper
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1 tablespoon teaspoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon oregano
1 teaspoon thyme
1 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 1/2 cups rice
3 cups chicken broth
2 tablespoon Frank's hot sauce
3 tablespoons tomato paste
2 bay leaves
10-12 medium to large shrimp, deveined and without shells
In a large dutch over, saucier or stock pot over medium heat, add 1 tablespoon of oil. Once the oil is warm, add the diced chicken and brown them. Remove the chicken, then add the sausage and cook until done. Remove the sausage and set aside for a minute.
Keep the pan over that medium heat and add another tablespoon of oil. Add the onion, pepper and celery and saute for about five minutes. While the onions are becoming translucent and the peppers and celery are softening, add the tomatoes to the veggies in the pan and toss all the spices in as well. Follow it up with the rice and give the mixture a few quick stirs, just so the spices mix evenly throughout.
Add the chicken broth (watch for steam), hot sauce and tomato paste and stir until the tomato sauce is well incorporated. Slice the cooked sausage into bite-size bits. Drop in the bay leaves, add the chicken and sausage back into the pot, stir to incorporate, then place a tight-fitting lid on the pan. Drop the heat to low (1 out of 10) and continue to cook while covered for 20 minutes. Do not remove this lid until the 20 minutes have passed!
When the time is up, add the shrimp, quickly stir them into the mixture (no more than 15 seconds) and return the lid to the pan. Cover and allow to steep for another 5 minutes.
Remove the lid and move to a serving bowl. Serve to hungry Cajuns as soon as possible.
The one redeeming factor of that marathon was the last stop in New Orleans. It was my second trip to the Big Easy and I had learned what not to do the first time I visited. First, don't waste your time on Bourbon Street, unless all your looking for is cheap alcohol, cheaper souvenirs and rows of sleazy strip joints. Second, take the side streets and look for the hole in the wall shops. They're the ones that have the interesting bits of memorabilia and much more local flavor. I ended up in a voodoo shop one time and was able peruse authentic voodoo ingredients. After some polite and respectful questions posed to the shop owner, she took me into the back room and showed me all the REALLY good stuff. I walked out of there with a free alligator head and a few other tools/trinkets that cannot be mentioned due to a solemn oath made to the priestess behind the counter. Let's just say my enemies have felt the effectiveness of each and every item.
But third, and most importantly, the best food can be found far away from Bourbon Street. On that second trip to New Orleans, the sky was slightly overcast with the occasional mist-like rain, but that didn't frighten the local restaurateurs. Many of the little restaurants have large doors along the length of the building that open wide to the street. Perfect to expose the patrons to a great people-watching view. Rain is nothing new so those doors stayed opened wide while I sat a little table just off the sidewalk. As I sat there eating a bowl of some of the best Jambalaya I've had in my life, a traditional jazz band led a funeral procession down the street. It was an almost jubilant and the mourners carried the casket to the rhythm of the music. I know now what my funeral will be like. All in all it was a great experience and one I never would have had if I limited myself to the blaring frat house attitude of Bourbon Street
Trying to recapture that moment is hard in Salt Lake. The only decent jazz we have is the basketball team, and that's only on occasion. And there are a only a few places in town that can come close to replicating the cajun and creole tastes of New Orleans. So I've tried to make my own batch of jambalaya at home. I think I've come pretty darn close to what I had on that French Quarter street corner. The andouille sausage is surprizingly easy to find. Harmon's carries it, as well as any of the specialty meat shops, like Colossimo's or Snyder's Meats. All of the other ingredients are easily found in any grocery store. The key to the recipe is giving the flavors time to intermingle. When almost everything is in the pot, put on the lid and let it be. Don't taste test it, don't stir it, don't disturb it until it's time to add the shrimp. The rice needs time to soak in all the goodness and if you remove that lid, it'll evaporate into the ether.
This will also store in the fridge for about a week, so this can be a perfect lunch during the week. And the aroma will stir a number of conversations in the lunch room when you warm it up.
Jambalaya
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
8 ounces boneless skinless chicken breast, cubed into 3/4-1 inch pieces
8 ounces andouille sausage (usually two sausages)
1 more tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped red or green bell pepper
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1 tablespoon teaspoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon oregano
1 teaspoon thyme
1 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 1/2 cups rice
3 cups chicken broth
2 tablespoon Frank's hot sauce
3 tablespoons tomato paste
2 bay leaves
10-12 medium to large shrimp, deveined and without shells
In a large dutch over, saucier or stock pot over medium heat, add 1 tablespoon of oil. Once the oil is warm, add the diced chicken and brown them. Remove the chicken, then add the sausage and cook until done. Remove the sausage and set aside for a minute.
Keep the pan over that medium heat and add another tablespoon of oil. Add the onion, pepper and celery and saute for about five minutes. While the onions are becoming translucent and the peppers and celery are softening, add the tomatoes to the veggies in the pan and toss all the spices in as well. Follow it up with the rice and give the mixture a few quick stirs, just so the spices mix evenly throughout.
Add the chicken broth (watch for steam), hot sauce and tomato paste and stir until the tomato sauce is well incorporated. Slice the cooked sausage into bite-size bits. Drop in the bay leaves, add the chicken and sausage back into the pot, stir to incorporate, then place a tight-fitting lid on the pan. Drop the heat to low (1 out of 10) and continue to cook while covered for 20 minutes. Do not remove this lid until the 20 minutes have passed!
When the time is up, add the shrimp, quickly stir them into the mixture (no more than 15 seconds) and return the lid to the pan. Cover and allow to steep for another 5 minutes.
Remove the lid and move to a serving bowl. Serve to hungry Cajuns as soon as possible.
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