You’re here early…I’m still getting dinner ready.
What am I making? Well it’s sort of a riff on Cajun cooking. Ya know, the Cajuns claimed they were of French descent, abandoned by the pirate Jean Lafitte… or is that the plot from an old Rocky and Bullwinkle show…
Anyway – I figured lets throw ‘em together in a little thing called Jambalaya Le Portefeuille
Basically Jambalaya in purses.
All Cajun cooking starts with the holy trinity of onion, celery and green bell pepper. Toss ‘em in a pan with butter and a mess of Cajun seasoning.
Next we have Andouille sausage. Diced, it takes a quick trip to the pan after the vegetables.
Cut up chicken is cooked next – be sure to season well.
Here’s where it modifications start. I knew it was going to be wrapped in puff pastry so I took out a serving and drained it.
While this was going on I made a Creole sauce. Basically the vegetables, tomato sauce and chicken stock. This is usually a lot more spicy than the jambalaya so those interested in incinerating their intestine can add this. By the way, one can always make your own spice mix but since Chef Prudhomme has kindly done it for me for $3.99 a bottle I’m down with that.
Throw in a couple of cups of rice and you’ve got plain old Jambalaya. Save this for when you’re late coming home for work, it freezes great.
OK…now let’s have some fun.
Spoon the drained jambalaya into the middle…
Fold it up like a really bad camping tent
Brush with an egg wash and into a 400 degree oven. (Don’t get me started on that “pre-heated oven” thing. If it’s 400 degrees…it’s heated)
And 20 – 25 minutes later you have this package of goodness.
Will Rogers said, “All I know is what I read in the papers.”
Today we have is the internet. Which is about 90% inaccurate, as opposed to 50% inaccurate for papers in Rogers day. So let’s dip our toe in that hot mess.
There was an interesting article about the special powers and privileges of the Queen of England.
She owns all the swans and dolphins in Britain.
She doesn’t need a drivers license…or registration…or smog check
She has a private poet who’s paid with a barrel of Sherry
She can fire the whole Australian government
The City of Gloucester pays for its holdings of Crown Lands by providing an enormous eel pie.
Which, I’m guessing, is much less tasty than dinner tonight.
So…coming by tomorrow? I hope so
See ya then.