Not exactly Cajun, but.....

Becoming Cajun-ized, an ongoing theme of this blog, is a lifelong process which continues regardless of location and has varying pace depending on a multitude of factors.

I realized long ago that many things labeled "Cajun" -- aren't. An integral element of Cajunization is the development of faculties of discrimination necessary for separating the real from fake.

Several years ago, Chef Paul Prudhomme, whose true Cajun-ness is a matter of debate among some, achieved a stroke of culinary genius in his creation of "Blackened Redfish." Since Chef Paul hails from New Orleans, which is not really Cajun Country, but is nevertheless a place of considerable artistic creativity, whether Blackened Redfish is really Cajun or Creole is not really the issue; I love the stuff.

So it's been on my existential agenda for quite some time to learn to blacken Redfish myself. Tonight, with Betty's help, I brushed aside all timidity, hooked up the new outdoor burner, got out the essential cast iron skillet and went at it. I got burned. A little. But I also cooked up some FINE Redfish fillets. Voila! Tres bon! A very good beginning.

Knowing how to cook game, seafood included, is an essential component of Cajun manhood. I'd despaired on that point -- that I'd never really get that part of it. But in spite of me I'm learning that, too. I now have two ways of cooking fish, me.

Peace, W