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Created by Chef Remy
Bone-in chicken braised in a brick-red tomato sauce loaded with cayenne, the holy trinity, and enough Louisiana fire to make you reach for the sweet tea, spooned generously over steaming white rice.
Sauce piquante is Cajun cooking at its most honest. No fancy techniques, no imported ingredients, just a heavy pot, good chicken, and enough cayenne to let you know you're alive. The name tells you everything: piquante means sharp, biting, a sauce that wakes up your mouth and keeps it interested.
My grandmother Evangeline made this dish when the weather turned cool and the family gathered. She'd start early in the morning, browning chicken in her cast iron Dutch oven, building that roux until it smelled like roasted pecans. By suppertime, the whole house smelled like tomatoes and spice, and you could hear stomachs growling from the next room.
The secret is layering your heat. You season the chicken before it hits the pan. You bloom cayenne in the roux. You let it all simmer together until the flavors marry and the chicken falls off the bone. At Lagniappe, we serve this over rice with crusty French bread on the side for sopping up every last drop of that sauce. That's the bayou way: nothing goes to waste, especially not something this good.
Quantity
3 1/2 pounds
thighs and drumsticks
Quantity
2 tablespoons
divided
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
1 large
diced
Quantity
2
diced
Quantity
1 large
diced
Quantity
6 cloves
minced
Quantity
1 can (28 ounces)
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
2 cups
Quantity
2 teaspoons, plus more to taste
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 teaspoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
freshly cracked
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Louisiana-style
Quantity
4
sliced thin
Quantity
2 tablespoons
chopped
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| bone-in, skin-on chicken piecesthighs and drumsticks | 3 1/2 pounds |
| Cajun seasoningdivided | 2 tablespoons |
| vegetable oil | 1/4 cup |
| all-purpose flour | 1/4 cup |
| yellow oniondiced | 1 large |
| celery stalksdiced | 2 |
| green bell pepperdiced | 1 large |
| garlicminced | 6 cloves |
| crushed tomatoes | 1 can (28 ounces) |
| tomato paste | 2 tablespoons |
| chicken stock | 2 cups |
| cayenne pepper | 2 teaspoons, plus more to taste |
| smoked paprika | 1 teaspoon |
| dried thyme | 1 teaspoon |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| kosher salt | 1 teaspoon, plus more to taste |
| black pepperfreshly cracked | 1/2 teaspoon |
| Worcestershire sauce | 1 tablespoon |
| hot sauceLouisiana-style | 1 tablespoon |
| green onionssliced thin | 4 |
| fresh parsleychopped | 2 tablespoons |
| cooked white rice | for serving |
Pat the chicken pieces dry with paper towels. Season generously on all sides with one tablespoon of the Cajun seasoning, working it into the meat with your fingers. Let the chicken sit at room temperature while you prepare your other ingredients, at least fifteen minutes. This is where flavor begins: seasoning the protein before anything else hits the pan.
Heat a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Add two tablespoons of the oil. When it shimmers and just starts to smoke, add the chicken pieces skin-side down in a single layer. Work in batches if needed, never crowd the pot. Let the chicken cook undisturbed for four to five minutes until the skin is deeply golden and releases easily from the pot. Flip and brown the other side for three minutes. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Reduce heat to medium. Add the remaining two tablespoons of oil to the pot along with the flour. Stir constantly with a wooden spoon or flat-edged spatula, scraping up the browned bits from the chicken. Cook the roux for eight to ten minutes, stirring without stopping, until it reaches a peanut butter color and smells like toasted nuts. This is lighter than a gumbo roux but darker than gravy. The color tells you the flavor is there.
Add the onion, celery, and bell pepper to the roux. The vegetables will sizzle and protest. That's good. Stir to coat everything in the roux and cook for six to eight minutes until the onions turn translucent and the vegetables soften. The mixture will look glossy and smell sweet. Add the garlic and cook one minute more until fragrant, stirring constantly so it doesn't burn.
Stir in the tomato paste and cook for one minute, letting it darken slightly. Add the crushed tomatoes, cayenne, smoked paprika, dried thyme, remaining tablespoon of Cajun seasoning, salt, and black pepper. Stir to combine. The cayenne will bloom in the heat, releasing its fire into the sauce. This is when the kitchen starts smelling like Louisiana.
Pour in the chicken stock and add the bay leaves. Bring to a simmer, scraping any remaining fond from the bottom of the pot. The sauce should be brick-red and slightly thick. Taste it now. Adjust the salt and add more cayenne if you want more heat. Remember: the chicken will absorb some of that fire as it braises, so season the sauce a touch bolder than you think.
Nestle the browned chicken pieces into the sauce, skin-side up, spooning some sauce over the tops. Reduce heat to low, cover the pot with a tight-fitting lid, and simmer for forty-five minutes to one hour. The chicken is done when it's tender enough that a fork slides through with no resistance and the meat wants to pull away from the bone. Check occasionally and adjust heat to maintain a gentle bubble.
Remove the bay leaves. Stir in the Worcestershire sauce and hot sauce. Taste one more time and adjust seasoning. The sauce should be slightly thick, clinging to a spoon, with layers of heat that build as you eat. Scatter the green onions and parsley over the top. Serve in shallow bowls over hot white rice, making sure everyone gets plenty of that sauce.
1 serving (about 350g)
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