Cajun shrimp cassoulet

8 min read

This Cajun shrimp cassoulet is a delicious dish from Louisiana. Technically not a cassoulet, don't let that stop you: it's easy to cook and not quite as heavy as the French dish from which it takes its name.

In the can

This is another of the recipes I came across trawling through my father's journals of the recipes he collected on his travels around the world. In this case, there isn't that much to go on. Usually he was fairly detailed in how and where he came across a recipe. In this case that level of detail is missing. It's simply noted as "Baton Rouge, '72". There's a little note about him visiting a friend from Germany who had married a woman from Louisiana and staying a few days, but little else. So, I have no idea whether this was a family recipe he learned at their home—in a little aside he says,"...she's an impressive cook, one of those Southern belles who has a penchant for frying things, an admirable quality in a woman..."—or ferreted out in one of those off-grid places he loved to find.

When I first came across it, I really could not remember it being one that appeared often on our table. In itself, that wasn't unusual. My father was happy to share his compendium of recipes with others for them to prepare when he was otherwise engaged, which was often. But, there were certain dishes that he insisted should be left to him to cook. So, certain dishes were less frequent on the quotidian domestic menu.

Denton had very strong feelings about getting the 'Holy Trinity', a kind of mirepoix of onions, celery and green bell pepper that forms the backbone of many Cajun, Creole and other dishes from the South. He insisted one get it just right. So, that would make a kind of sense. I have a very vivid memory of him showing me his method for the slow cooking of the 'Holy Trinity'. He'd spend an evening preparing it, slowly sautéed as it should be. He'd totter off to play a dirge of piobaireachd, ancient funerary music, on the bagpipes. When the lament finished, he'd pad back into the kitchen and stir: that was the right amount of time. If only I had persevered with learning to play the pipes as well as him, I might be as good a cook as he was.

To make it even more displaced, given the flow of this particular journal, he'd obviously written it up some time after he experienced it. Both the preceding and later pages were dated from almost two years later.

However, when I got to trying it out, that Proustian truth of flavour smacked me in the head like a well planted punch: of course I knew it. I think what threw me was that Denton had obviously decided it was better suited to crab, which is how I remember it.

He also made some little notes musing that, not actually a cassoulet, he reasonably deducts, the name is probably some corruption of the original French. He scribbled on about some Québécois dish with which I'm not familiar—people forget that many of the "French" settlers of Louisiana were North American-born Québécois drawn to the milder climate. That historical granularity was Denton's schtick. And, you can probably tell just from this one recipe that he passed that down to me.

One of the other things that struck me is a little rant about how one must use tinned concentrate of cream of mushroom, sweetcorn and butterbeans, not "some Larousse version".

I certainly remember how and why canned ingredients were central to many dishes in the South. I equally remember a conversation with Denton on a beach in Australia decades later where he drew out this massive diagram in the sand plotting everything from 19th-century meat canning in South America for export to the European military to the adoption of fresh-versus-dried ingredients of South African Indian Diasporan cooking. "Beware the transhistorical, classist lies they tell you, laddie! Food leaves a cultural trail as tangible as a temple. Dannae let them fool you!"

Yep, Denton cared deeply about these things. And, I guess I do too.

Spice me nice

And yet, I am not, publishing Denton's recorded version. If you have easy access to proper Andouille sausage, go for it . But it's not that easy to access in many parts of the world, so I'm using chorizo and have scaled down the use of smoked paprika in the spice mix accordingly. If you use Andouille, add a little extra smoked paprika.

If you like Creole and Cajun cooking, you'll probably enjoy this dish. The name is a misnomer, not quite as much a stew as gumbo, it's probably closer to jambalaya in texture. Unlike those dishes, this one is usually served with potatoes rather than rice. In the original recipe, those are sliced, skin-on sautéed potatoes dressed with chopped parsley. I'm making use of the slightly different provisions I just happened to have in.

This version serves 2 to 3 people, depending on your side dishes and condiments. Please note that I'm cooking it in slightly different portions compared with the recipe.

3 top tips to get this recipe right:

This recipe uses both lemon and lime and white wine and bourbon. As with the recipe for "drunken shrimp" (which I'm yet to publish), both are important. In this case; there is no "optional". The same is true for the herbs. Cajun and other Southern cooking often use the same herbs in both dried and fresh forms because, as any TV chef will tell you, they are different things. In this one, it's the parsley. It really does need to be curly leaf parsley, not the flat-leafed Mediterranean kind.

This is a "slow cook" dish for the first part. To get the 'Holy Trinity' right, you need to cook it steadily on a low/medium heat, starting with a slightly higher temperature to get the onions going, but really slowing it down after that. I often prepare it in larger batches for use in multiple meals. Apparently, it freezes well. I don't know: I have never tried. But, it keeps well, sealed in the fridge for at least four days

Unlike with gumbo, the sausage here is for flavour rather than a key ingredient. Resist the temptation to overdo it.

Shopping list

for the Cajun shrimp cassoulet

Approx. 8 to 10 large shrimp per diner; shell on
2 onions, (red or brown); cubed
Approx. 4 tbspns peanut oil
4 cloves of garlic; chopped or crushed
4 stems of celery, washed and finely sliced
the juice and pulp of 1 fresh lemon
the juice and pulp of 1 fresh lime
1 glass of dry white wine
2 shots of bourbon
A generous clutch of curly leaf parsley; chopped
Approx. 1.5 "thumb's length" small chorizo; sliced
1 small (250g) can concentrated creamed mushrooms
Approx. 170g canned sweetcorn
400g canned butterbeans
A little chicken stock (or vegetable stock)
Approx. 500ml hot water
Salt and black pepper, to taste

for the Cajun spice mix

½ tspn smoked paprika (pimentón picante)
1 tspn ground cumin
1 tspn mild chilli powder and
1 tspn dried basil
1 tspn dried parsley
and a pinch of cayenne pepper, mixed with pestle and mortar

for the sides and condiments

Purple potatoes; peeled
A clutch of celery sprouts
A little peanut oil

Cooking Method

the Cajun shrimp cassoulet

Cook your 'Holy Trinity' first. This can be done days in advance and stored in the fridge until you cook the dish. Add the peanut oil to a deep pan with a lid. Heat on a low/medium heat and add the chopped onions once hot, seasoning with a little salt and pepper, stirring so it does not stick. Add half of the white wine to soften the onions
As soon as the onions begin to soften, add the celery. Stir in; add the garlic. Once the aroma is released, add a little more of the wine. Cover, reduce to a low heat and sauté
When the celery shows signs of softening, add the green bell pepper and stir in. Add the lemon juice and and pulp and half of the chopped fresh parsley. Stir in. When the lemon juice largely cooks off, add the remainder of the wine. Cover and sweat for about 20mins. Stir, cover and sweat on a low/medium heat until your 'Holy Trinity' is fully softened, stirring occasionally. You can continue with the dish or allow it to cool and to a storage dish and store the fridge if you wish to cook it later
In a spice grinder (or using a pestle and mortar) grind all the spices. Sprinkle a little of the spice mix over the shrimp. Squeeze over half of the lime juice and add 1 shot of the bourbon. Bathe for about 30mins min, but no longer than an hour
Heat a little peanut oil (e.g. 2tbspns) in a deep pan with a lid on a medium/high heat. When hot, add the shrimp and all of the juices and cook until the shells begin to turn pink i.e. about ¾ cooked. Remove with a sieve spoon leaving all the juices in the pan
Add a little more oil and heat on a low/medium heat. Add the sliced sausage and stir. Wait until you can hear it sizzling. Add all of the 'Holy Trinity'. Once it's sufficiently hot, add the concentrated creamed mushroom and stir in. Dilute with stock as needed to form a relatively thick "sauce". Add the remainder of the spice mix and stir in. Cover and simmer on a low heat for approx. 20mins, adding additional stock if needed
Add the butterbeans and sweetcorn and and stir in. Ensure that both are fully heated before adding the shrimp
Add the shrimp back into the pan. Add the remainder of the bourbon and the other half of the lime and its pulp. Re-cover and simmer gently until optimally cooked
Plate or take to table in a serving dish and serve with any sides and condiments

the roasted purple potato side

You can do one or both steps some time before serving the potatoes. Peel your potatoes and parboil for 4mins
Cut into suitable chunks, coat with a little virgin olive oil using a pastry brush, and roast in a hot oven at 250°C, turning every 15 mins or so until crisp on the outside and fluffily cooked on the inside. (If you need me to explain this part, you're in a sad place)
Once cooked, turn off the heat and allow to rest for about 10mins. While still hot, dress with a little extra virgin olive oil and sprinkle over the celery shoots

Alternatives

This is a pescatarian dish first and foremost. But, it works well as a vegan chowder if you add chopped potatoes at the same time that you add the creamed mushroom. Obviously bypass the chorizo stage and choose another side dish.

In the carnivore versions of this dish, add additional chorizo and treat chicken in very much the way the shrimp are treated here, skin on or otherwise.

Pairings

This dish works well with both beer and wine. My father notes that cold beer is the best match in his opinion. Despite being a whiny little queen, I concur. My personal favourite is the Peruvian beer Cusqueña. But I guess the fact I even know that makes me even more of a whiny gay...

The truth is that I haven't actually tried this one with wine. It's been all lemonade or beer. But I can imagine it would be fantastic with muscular white wines such as a good Albariño or other wines from the Rías Baixas I jokingly call the "Matadores rubios" when no Spaniard can hear. We await Karel's judgement.