Don't Gag! It's Just Protein!

Red beans and rice. It sounds simple, but it's the home of complex flavors, a complete protein and one of the great literary puns.

Red beans, Anne Rice. I saw this on a t-shirt in New Orleans; for the full impact, it had to be said aloud and it brought my Cajun roots into direct contact with my home on Toulouse Street in the New Orleans French Quarter.

Cajun Comfort Food. $7.40 For 4, Plus a Doggie Bag for 2 More.

Red beans and rice is a comfort food for most of Southern Louisiana. Today's recession-proof recipe won't take a full thirty minutes, or it might take a few lazy hours, depending on how your day has been and how much wine is left in the box/jug.

A Cajun will get out of bed and start cooking a pot of rice even before pouring the first cup of coffee. Ask them what they're going to make, and they might have no idea, but the rice'll be ready...

Break out the chicken stock and rice and start the rice cooking, 1-1/2 cups stock for each 3/4 cup of rice. That'll keep you occupied for two minutes.

I'm sitting here in Tennessee, snow on the ground, and remembering what it was like at home, years ago. Cajuns just have to start the day by cooking rice. Customarily, red beans and rice is served on Monday night, perhaps to ease the shock of the change from weekend to work week, perhaps to ease the shock of the weekend. Perhaps it just depends on whether you start the week with the job you had on Friday. 

Get out a large pot, turn the burner on "high" and put a few drops (5 or 6) of oil into the pot. Chop a large onion, half a green pepper and one stalk of celery. Put the veggies in the pot and stir them quickly for a few seconds.

For the next few days, be prepared: chop up the onions, two or three green peppers and two or three stalks of celery. In southern Louisiana, celery, onion and green pepper are called "The Holy Trinity," and appear in nearly every recipe.

Cut up some smoked sausage; this recipe will use about half a pound, or whatever you've got left from last night's gumbo.

When the onions start to turn translucent, add the sausage. Keep cooking for about one minute, without stirring anything in the pot. If it looks like it might burn a little bit, well, don't stir it cause it's just going to add part of the flavor.

Five minutes have passed. Are you stirring? Well, stop!

Human beings don't develop all at once. Their tastebuds aren't even fully developed and don't even begin to work right until they're about 20 years old. If their tastebuds don't work right by the time they're 25, they become food critics.

Pour three cups of water into the pot. Add two tablespoons of Cajun seasoning, half a teaspoon each of celery salt and onion powder. Open the eight cans of light red beans you bought at the supermaket (did I forget to mention you need to shop?). Pour six of them into the pot.

Run the remaining two cans through the food processor, blender or mash them with a potato masher. Put the result into the pot.

Now you have a decision to make: how much time do you have to cook? If you don't have time, keep the fire stoked and when the beans have boiled for five minutes, turn the burner off, cover the pot and wait ten or fifteen minutes before serving.

If, on the other hand, you have some time, cook the bean mixture for a while on medium low -- the longer the better. Stir every half-hour, add water to keep the beans, sausage and vegs covered. Drink another glass of that cheap white wine you're going to serve with this.

Breathe. Your part in this culinary drama is done, except for that occasional, gentle stir. It's taken about twenty minutes to produce one of the great comfort foods of America.

Tomorrow it'll be an adventure in low-cal deserts: Fried Pecan Pie, just like the Camelia Grill in New Orleans.

See ya' around the watercooler.

-Chrissie