

44
MY
ROUSES
EVERYDAY
MAY | JUNE 2017
the
Coffee
issue
T
he Gulf Coast can boast of
countless festivals that celebrate
music, food, culture and anything
else that is deemed worthy of recognition.
One festival that has long interested me
is the Jambalaya Festival celebrated in
Gonzales, Louisiana. While the Jambalaya
Festival Association was chartered in
1967, the first festival wasn’t held till the
following year. It was 15 years or so after
that that I had the honor of being on the
panel of judges for the competition. I was
surprised at the strict rules that are applied
to the participating teams. For example,
The Jambalaya Capital
OF THE WORLD
by
Marcel Bienvenu +
photo by
Denny Culbert
each team gets the same amount of rice
and chicken, and has access only to other
ingredients (such as onions, bell peppers,
celery, red hot sauce, salt, red and black
pepper, garlic, cooking oil) sanctioned by the
Jambalaya Festival Association. No one can
bring any other type of seasoning or “secret
ingredient” to the competition. Participants
must supply their own black iron pot with
a lid, and a paddle with which to stir. The
jambalaya must be cooked over a wood fire
— and the wood has to be furnished by the
festival association.
Having spent a good deal of time as a
youngster at my father’s elbow while he
cooked over a wood fire, I am always in awe
of and have great admiration for cooks who
can control wood fires.) I was also intrigued
by the jambalaya itself. Although I have
consumed several types of jambalaya in my
lifetime, none resembled the ones served to
me at the festival. They were brown — the
only meat they contained was chicken. In
my family circle of cooks, the characteristics
of the jambalaya varied from cook to cook.
A favorite family recipe contained chunks
of pork, smoked sausage
and
chicken, and
contained some (keyword here is “some”)
tomato product, like diced tomatoes, which,
in my opinion, added a depth of flavor.
When our family spent a weekend at our
camp at Cypremort Point on Vermilion
Bay, the jambalaya of the day featured
shrimp and ham, tasso or smoked sausage,
and was tomato-based.
But that was
my
family.
In the book
Stir the Pot: the History of Cajun
Cuisine
, I wrote quite a bit about jambalaya.
Here are a few of my observations:
Just as everyone has their own variation of
gumbo, so too will you find great variety
among jambalaya recipes. Some will argue
that jambalaya should be brown, while
others will tell you no, it should be red
(made so by the addition of tomatoes).
In Gonzales, for example, the locals will
tell you that you will never find a good
jambalaya in New Orleans because they
make the red version. It is an article of
faith with these folks that jambalaya should
be, must be, brown. Gonzales must know
what it’s talking about — after all, it was
named by the Louisiana legislature to be
the jambalaya capital of the world, and for
over 30 years the town has hosted an annual