Creole Jambalaya

The inauguration is nine days away. I mention this not because this is a political journal but because the atmosphere of this particular January is unlike any other January and that is a fact about the atmosphere. The hospital has its own political weather -- the break room has been quieter than usual, people working, not talking. That's fine. We have work to do.

Nora is nine and a half months and has found her voice in the specific sense that she has discovered volume. She has been testing the ceiling on volume this week and the ceiling, as far as she is concerned, does not exist. Liam at this age was verbal early but quiet about it. Nora is not quiet about anything. She announces herself upon waking. She announces the arrival of each meal. She makes known her opinions about the quality of tummy time. I have begun to suspect she will be a person who takes up all the space she is entitled to and then some more.

Liam turned two years and nine months this week and Sean made pancakes on Saturday with the blue sprinkles Liam had specifically requested, which Sean drove to three stores to find because that is the kind of father he is. Liam ate four pancakes and declared them the best ones. Sean filed this information for future reference. The blue sprinkles are now in the pantry. The Saturday pancakes are a fixture. They are not going anywhere.

Split pea soup on Sunday. Cold and gray out. Peas and ham and an afternoon to myself while the kids napped. I ate at the kitchen table with the radio on and didn't talk to anyone and it was restorative in the way that quiet is restorative when you've been living in noise.

The split pea soup I made that Sunday was gone before the kids woke up, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since — not the soup itself exactly, but what it did for me: one pot, one bowl, the radio on, nobody needing anything. That’s the kind of cooking I keep coming back to when the noise gets thick, and this Creole jambalaya gives me the same thing. It’s substantial without being fussy, it fills the kitchen with something warm, and it asks very little of you in return for what it gives.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
3 celery stalks, sliced
3 garlic cloves, minced
12 oz smoked andouille sausage, sliced into rounds
1 lb boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
2 cups chicken broth
1 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
1 teaspoon Creole or Cajun seasoning
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or to taste)
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 green onions, sliced, for garnish
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Brown the sausage. Heat olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the andouille sausage and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned on both sides, about 4–5 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside.
Cook the chicken. Add the chicken pieces to the same pot and season lightly with salt and pepper. Cook until browned and cooked through, about 5–6 minutes. Remove and set aside with the sausage.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the onion, bell pepper, and celery to the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
Add the tomatoes and spices. Stir in the diced tomatoes, Creole seasoning, smoked paprika, thyme, and cayenne. Cook for 2 minutes, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
Simmer with rice. Pour in the chicken broth and stir in the uncooked rice. Return the sausage and chicken to the pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer for 20–25 minutes, until the rice has absorbed the liquid and is tender.
Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let the jambalaya rest, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff gently with a fork, taste for seasoning, and serve topped with sliced green onions and fresh parsley.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creole Jambalaya — The Quiet Bowl That Brought Me Back to Myself