Etouffee is one of those dishes that feels like a hug but tastes like someone turned the flavor dial up and snapped it off. You build a roux, sweat down the holy trinity (onion, bell pepper, celery), then let everything simmer into a glossy, savory sauce that clings to rice like it pays rent.
This is my rustic, weeknight-friendly version. I lean into a slightly deeper, toastier roux than some traditional shrimp etouffees, because I like that nutty backbone. It is bold, satisfying, and not precious. You do not need fancy seafood stock or a culinary degree. You just need patience for the roux, a spoon, and the willingness to taste as you go. If you can stir and you can smell when something is getting too toasty, you are in business.






