It's happened to all of us at one time or another: You're in a restaurant, feeling adventurous, and you order something like "Cajun-Spiced Meat Loaf" or some other unlikely sounding concoction. What you get is indifferently cooked meat smothered in a red sauce so hot your nose hairs start smoking from the mere aroma off the plate.

Sadly, this abomination is what much of the world thinks "real" Cajun food consists of, when in fact it is a complex and delightful cooking regime that covers everything from the familiar spicy dishes to the delights of confections like bourbon bread pudding and beignets.

What is a Cajun? Well, since I'm lazy beyond belief, I'll let my pal Rick over at Cajuns Choice tell you about them.

Cajuns trace their roots directly to the Acadian French who relocated from Normandy and Brittany to Nova Scotia in the early 1600s. When the British acquired Nova Scotia in 1755, the Acadians or "Cajuns" as they were known, were forced to leave. For the next 30 years, Acadians searched for a place to settle. Many of the displaced Cajuns eventually found their way to the swamps and prairie of southern Louisiana.
Geographically, the swamplands and bayous gave the Cajuns an ample region in which to live. The natural alluvial flood plain in this area is the largest in North America. Not only does it nurture choice seafood and wildlife but its prairies provide optimum conditions for growing crops and raising livestock.
Choctaw Indians, the area's first dwellers, revealed secrets of indigenous foods -- namely bay leaves and filé powder, to the early settlers. Characteristic corn dishes of south Louisiana such as macque choux can also be traced to these native people. Cajuns quickly learned to cook with the area's bounty of available ingredients. They cooked with traditional French flair but adapted their cuisine to the variety of indigenous foods. For added dimension to their dishes, Cajuns experimented with herbs and spices to find the best flavor combinations. With so much bounty from the bayous, Cajuns had truly found a promised land for their people and culture.

That French flair is still alive and well in true Cajun cooking, with an attention to detail and sublety of spices that belie the common conceptions.

Consider that most Cajun of soups, gumbo. If you've been served some incandescently spiced bowl of viscous goo with chunks of meat and vegetables, you've been victimized. True gumbo is a delicate balance of savory and spicy, of meat and broth.

One remarkable thing about many Cajun dishes is their versatility. Etouffee, while primarily a seafood dish, can be made with just about anything from the briny depths. Bisque, a delightful soup, is as at home with the class of lobster as it is with the simplicity of crawfish.

Jambalaya is perhaps the best example of this. If you grew up in a "traditional" house, your mom no doubt had her own recipe for Refrigerator Soup, where all the bits of produce and meat that were hiding in crispers and shelves were combined to make steaming bowls of goodness. For the Cajun cook, jambalaya is very much the same. I've found that if you see it listed just as "Jambalaya," it's meat content is generally ham and/or sausage, hopefully some wonderful andouille. Even when it's classed up with chicken or seafood, it still draws a good amount of flavor from those basic meats.

Here's a recipe for a basic shrimp jambalaya. If you'd rather make it "standard," simply omit the shrimp and add another half-pound of sausage. When choosing your ham, beware of "country" hams, as they can be far too salty and ruin the dish.

Shrimp Jambalaya

1 tbsp. shortening or lard
2 tbsp. flour
½ lb. andouille or smoked sausage, sliced
½ lb. ham (turkey ham may be used), in bite-size pieces
1 green bell pepper, chopped
1 lb. raw shrimp, peeled, deveined and chopped
5 C. canned tomatoes, chopped, with juice
2 C. water or chicken stock
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 tbsp. flat-leaf parsley, chopped
2 C. uncooked rice
2 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
½ tsp. cayenne pepper (optional but recommended)

In heavy pot large enough to hold all ingredients, melt shortening/lard over medium heat. Add flour and blend well.

Add sausage, ham and bell pepper and cook 3 minutes.

Add shrimp, tomatoes, water, onions, garlic and parsley.

Bring to a boil and add remaining ingredients. Cover and simmer 30 minutes, or until rice is tender, stirring occasionally. If mixture seems too dry, add additional water or stock ½ C. at a time.

Serves a crowd.

Let this recipe be your first step into the much-misunderstood world of Cajun cuisine.

For more recipes, and everything you'll need in the way of seasoning blends, check out my pal Rick Layne at Cajun's Choice

Join me here every Friday for explorations of the nuts and bolts of cooking, food oddities and other items of general culinary interest. Drop me a line anytime!