I live among heathens, that’s no secret. Those of you who live around here and are my friends, you don’t count. You passed the test. Everyone else in Disgusta, GA? Heathens. What does that have to do with anything….? The dinner that was waiting on me when I got home today…
My husband hates to take me to get groceries because he says I’m a distraction, among other things. Keep in mind, I don’t cook much anymore. He does. Here’s how the conversation in the store went…
Him: (watching me play with a stuffed turtle) I can’t take you anywhere.
Me: Of course not. (*swim* turtle at him because it’s a seaaaaaaaaaaaa turtle) But I’m fun, no?
Him: (grumbling) What do you want to eat? Something different?”
Me: No. (now I’ve found Valentines day stuff)
Him: What do you want?
Me: (too busy with a new shiny to answer – really don’t want to think that hard, anyway)
Him: Do you want cereal?
Me: No.
Him: Please tell me what you want, or I’ll get the same damn things.
Me: Does it matter? Food is something you eat so you don’t die.
Having swung back down the end of the aisle, the turtle comes into view again… I’m off! I just about get the turtle picked up again…
Him: You like to eat in New Orleans.
Me: (slump and put the turtle back – point to the grocery version of a Wal-Martian walking by) We are so not in Nola.
Him: What’s that stuff you like?
Me: Etouffee. Desire’s etouffee, specifically.
Him: Let’s make it.
Me: (snorting myself to death) Right. No recipe, love.
Him: We’ll figure it out… how do you want it?
Me: (cannot help but be lured in…)
Here’s what we came up with:
White chicken chili mix (McCormick)
Three chicken breasts, cubed and browned
One can of navy beans
Two large potatoes, cubed to size preference, pre-cook
One 4oz package of tiny frozen salad shrimp – heathens, remember?
Boil-in-bag rice, 1 bag
Cook everything but the shrimp and rice together for an hour. Add shrimp, cook another 20. Pour over prepared rice.
Sweet baby Jesus.
My nose is running, my eyes are glassy – sure sign of juuuuuust enough cayenne. I’m almost ashamed to admit how much of that heathen goodness I ate. No, it’s not “real”, but right this second I so do not care. It’s the closest thing to ‘home’ that I’ve had since 2009. And I WILL be having leftovers again tomorrow because there’s just enough left.
Now you know how to make Heathen’s Etouffee. You’re welcome.
Now I just need a Hurricane… and a King Cake.
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