Gulf Coast Jambalaya Rice

August 2019. The cold has settled into Memphis the way grief settles into a family — not violently, but persistently, a presence that changes the texture of every day. I am 60 and still walking my mail route through Midtown Memphis, and the week was a winter week, which means the cooking was warmer, the house was smaller, and the people I love were closer.

The week\'s main current was christmas-new year pause. The family moved through the week the way we move through all weeks — together even when apart, connected by phone calls and text messages and the invisible threads that bind a family across distance and time. Rosetta held the center, as she always does, the organizing principle of the Johnson household, the woman who knows where everyone is and what everyone needs before they know it themselves.

I cooked this week the way I cook every week: with intention, with the ingredients at hand, and with the understanding that food made in a home kitchen for people you love is fundamentally different from food made anywhere else. The recipe doesn\'t matter as much as the hands that make it and the table that receives it. I stood at my stove or sat beside my smoker and I made leftover ham delivery, and the making was the medicine, and the eating was the communion, and the cleaning up afterward was the humility that every cook needs — the reminder that the meal is over but the feeding continues, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

I went to bed thinking about the people I love and the food I\'ve made and the fire that doesn\'t go out. The fire is the constant. The fire is the inheritance that Uncle Clyde gave me and that I am passing forward, spark by spark, cook by cook, to whoever has the patience to stand next to me and learn. The fire doesn\'t care about my knee or my blood pressure or the fact that the world is changing in ways I don\'t always understand. The fire just burns. And I tend it. And the tending is the living.

The ham had done its work at the holiday table and still had plenty left to give — that’s the thing about a good ham, it doesn’t quit. When the christmas-new year pause settled over the house and Rosetta was holding the center and the cold had its grip on Midtown, I turned what was left of that ham into a pot of Gulf Coast Jambalaya Rice, because a jambalaya is exactly the kind of fire Uncle Clyde would have approved of: bold, generous, and built to feed whoever walks through the door. This is the recipe that came out of that week, and I offer it the same way I offer everything — with both hands open.

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

Ingredients

2 cups cooked leftover ham, diced into bite-sized pieces
1/2 lb andouille sausage, sliced into 1/4-inch rounds
1 1/2 cups long-grain white rice, uncooked
3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
3 stalks celery, sliced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 teaspoons Cajun or Creole seasoning
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
2 bay leaves
3 green onions, sliced, for garnish
Salt to taste

Instructions

Brown the sausage. Heat the vegetable oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the andouille sausage slices and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned on both sides, about 4–5 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside, leaving the drippings in the pot.
Build the base. In the same pot over medium heat, add the diced onion, green bell pepper, and celery (the holy trinity). Cook, stirring frequently, until softened and just beginning to turn golden, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Season and toast. Stir in the Cajun seasoning, smoked paprika, thyme, black pepper, and cayenne. Add the uncooked rice and stir to coat every grain in the seasoned vegetables and drippings, toasting lightly for about 2 minutes.
Add liquids and meat. Pour in the chicken broth and the diced tomatoes with their juice. Stir in the browned andouille and the diced ham. Nestle in the bay leaves. Bring the pot to a boil over high heat, stirring once to make sure nothing is sticking.
Simmer low and slow. Reduce heat to low, cover tightly, and cook for 20–25 minutes, until the rice has absorbed the liquid and is fully tender. Resist lifting the lid during this time — the steam does the work.
Rest and fluff. Remove from heat and let the jambalaya rest, covered, for 5 minutes. Remove the bay leaves. Fluff gently with a fork and taste for salt, adjusting as needed.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with sliced green onions. Serve with crusty bread or cornbread alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Gulf Coast Jambalaya Rice — The Fire That Doesn’t Go Out