
Chef Remy
Cajun All-Purpose Seasoning
A brick-red Louisiana spice blend with layered heat, earthy herbs, and aromatic depth that transforms anything it touches into something worth fighting over at the dinner table.
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Created by Chef Remy
The mother sauce of New Orleans kitchens: slow-simmered tomatoes, the holy trinity, and enough garlic to keep the vampires at bay, spooned generously over everything from scrambled eggs to Sunday pasta.
Every kitchen needs a mother sauce, and in New Orleans, this is ours. Creole red gravy sits somewhere between Italian marinara and French tomato sauce, with enough Louisiana attitude to claim its own identity. My grandmother Evangeline kept a pot of this simmering on her stove most Sundays, ready to rescue leftover rice, dress up a pork chop, or transform simple scrambled eggs into something worth waking up for.
The foundation is the holy trinity: onion, celery, and bell pepper. This is non-negotiable. Every great Creole dish starts here, and this gravy is no different. You cook those vegetables low and slow until they practically dissolve into sweetness, then you build flavor in layers. Garlic goes in at the right moment, tomato paste gets toasted until it turns from bright to brick, and the tomatoes simmer until they forget they were ever in a can.
At Lagniappe, we go through gallons of this gravy every week. It's the base for our shrimp Creole, the sauce on our smothered pork chops, and the secret weapon we spoon over grillades and grits at brunch. The beauty is its generosity. Make a big batch on Sunday, and you've got the foundation for a week of easy dinners. That's the bayou way: cook once, eat well for days.
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
1 large (about 2 cups)
diced
Quantity
1 large (about 1 1/2 cups)
diced
Quantity
3 (about 1 cup)
diced
Quantity
6 cloves
minced
Quantity
2 cans (28 ounces each)
crushed by hand
Quantity
1 can (6 ounces)
Quantity
2 cups
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon, or to taste
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
2 teaspoons, plus more to taste
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
chopped
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| bacon drippings or vegetable oil | 1/4 cup |
| yellow oniondiced | 1 large (about 2 cups) |
| green bell pepperdiced | 1 large (about 1 1/2 cups) |
| celery stalksdiced | 3 (about 1 cup) |
| garlicminced | 6 cloves |
| whole San Marzano tomatoescrushed by hand | 2 cans (28 ounces each) |
| tomato paste | 1 can (6 ounces) |
| chicken stock or water | 2 cups |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| dried thyme | 1 teaspoon |
| dried oregano | 1 teaspoon |
| cayenne pepper | 1/2 teaspoon, or to taste |
| sugar | 1 tablespoon |
| Worcestershire sauce | 1 tablespoon |
| kosher salt | 2 teaspoons, plus more to taste |
| freshly ground black pepper | 1/2 teaspoon |
| fresh parsleychopped | 2 tablespoons |
Set a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. Add the bacon drippings and let them shimmer. If you're using oil, that's fine, but bacon fat brings a depth that takes this gravy from good to unforgettable. The fat should ripple when you tilt the pan, hot enough to make vegetables sizzle on contact.
Add the onion, bell pepper, and celery to the hot fat. The holy trinity is the foundation of everything good in Louisiana cooking. Stir to coat, then let the vegetables cook undisturbed for about two minutes before stirring again. You want them to soften and turn translucent, releasing their sweetness, about eight to ten minutes total. The onions should be soft enough to crush between your fingers, the peppers tender but not mushy.
Push the vegetables to the edges of the pot, creating a small well in the center. Add the garlic to that bare spot and let it sizzle for thirty seconds, stirring constantly. The moment you smell that perfume, that's when you know the oils are releasing. Stir the garlic into the vegetables immediately. Burned garlic is bitter garlic, and there's no fixing that.
Add the tomato paste and stir it into the vegetables. Let it cook for two to three minutes, stirring frequently. This step is crucial. Raw tomato paste tastes tinny and sharp. Toasting it deepens the color to brick red and transforms the flavor into something rich and caramelized. You'll see the paste darken slightly and smell a deeper, sweeter tomato aroma.
Pour the crushed tomatoes into the pot. At Lagniappe, we always crush whole tomatoes by hand because you control the texture. Canned crushed tomatoes work, but they're often too fine. Add the chicken stock, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Those bits are concentrated flavor you've been building.
Add the bay leaves, thyme, oregano, cayenne, sugar, Worcestershire, salt, and black pepper. Stir everything together and bring to a gentle simmer. The sugar isn't there to make it sweet. It's there to balance the acidity of the tomatoes. Taste now and adjust your salt. The gravy will reduce, so season conservatively. You can always add more at the end.
Reduce heat to low and let the gravy simmer uncovered for one hour to one hour and fifteen minutes, stirring occasionally. The sauce should bubble lazily, a gentle blip every few seconds, not a rolling boil. As it cooks, the flavors will marry and the texture will thicken. The trinity will melt into the tomatoes until you can barely distinguish the pieces. That's the bayou way.
Remove the bay leaves. Taste the gravy and adjust the seasoning. It should be rich, slightly sweet from the vegetables, with a gentle warmth at the back of your throat. If it tastes flat, it needs salt. If it tastes sharp, a pinch more sugar. Stir in the fresh parsley just before serving or storing.
1 serving (about 240g)
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