ROUND 21 - DINNER MAIN COURSE - RICE - SPICY JAMBALAYA WITH CHICKEN (THIGHS), ANDOUILLE AND SHRIMP - MINE
Another dish I'm comfortable making for strangers, one that I've perfected over the years through trial and error though it can be tough to find GOOD Andouille in Oregon.
But first a little story for background. I went to college in Jackson, MS and many of my fraternity brothers were from Louisiana and since I was about 6 hours away from home, I'd often times go home with a buddy to party in New Orleans, Baton Rouge or, the home of the greatest International Rice Festival in the United States - Crowley, LA!
Crowley, LA was the home of my buddy Homer Edward Bar***ousse IV, the son of a prominent attorney who was once a partner with Edwin Edwards and one of his brothers or cousins or who knows really, everybody down there is family and connected in one way or another. This family had a gorgeous southern home with a wrap around porch around the entire house, beautiful architecture, a library, pool with a pool house, you name it, this place had it. This included a full time maid/cook named Helen who, like most of the help in Southern Louisiana, was black.
Helen was an outstanding cook and the first time I went down there, she prepared her pork jambalaya which was the first time I had ever had it. I fell in love immediately with both the jambalaya and Helen who, like me, was a closet smoker and would join me on their wrap-around patio for a cig now and again. It was there that I asked Helen if she could write down her recipe for her jambalaya for me but said in her deep southern drawl something like "Child, I haven't used a recipe in over 30 years!" and laughed with me as we smoked.
Before we left for college the next day, my buddy's mom handed me an index card and said "Hey Forrest, Helen must really like you - she wrote down her recipe for Jambalaya and has NEVER given it to me!". Now, who knows if that was true or not, but I took that thing back to college and couldn't wait to make her jambalaya. Back then I had very little money to spend on groceries and can vividly recall eating ketchup sandwiches when times got really tough, but what I did have went with me to the grocery store to load up on everything I'd need to make this.
I tried to follow her instructions without any deviation and while I was far from a decent cook, I could follow a recipe (I thought) and felt competent in my ability. When I was done, the first thing I noticed was the difference in consistency. Hers was a model of perfection. Mine? Mine was a gelatinous glob of goo. Hers tasted like something I'd order on death row for a final meal. Mine tasted like something that would kill a man on death row prematurely. But because I had spent so much of my grocery money on this, I slogged through it. For a week. Was not about to waste it, but it was bad. So bad that I didn't attempt jambalaya until I was in my late 30s.
But now, I'm quite sure I've got something that would make old Helen proud. I've got tricks, I've got secret ingredients, I've the sequence down pat. If you ever come to one of my Super Bowl parties (and you should, you're all invited) or a Halloween gathering in our driveway, jambalaya will be served.