Master a Cajun classic in 30 minutes with this easy shrimp étouffée

A little ritual helps me settle in each time I move into a new home. I christen the kitchen with a treasured recipe.

In December, my husband and I relocated from New Orleans to Washington for my new job as Recipes Editor at The Washington Post. As we unpacked in our row house on a chilly, overcast day, I knew just what we needed to warm our bellies and push back against the strangeness of new surroundings: an étouffée.

In addition to filling the air with familiar scents, this unfussy comfort food is perfect for hectic moving days, because it has few ingredients and comes together in 30 minutes.

It is a classic from the canon of Cajun and Creole favorites. The term étouffée (AY-too-Fay) means to smother. In food parlance, that means the proteins, usually shrimp or crawfish tails for this dish, are "smothered," or simmered, in a sauce of fats and sauteed vegetables.

I bet your recipe repertoire includes some variation on this theme: Saute vegetables until softened, add a quick-cooking protein and create a comforting sauce to serve over a starch or grain.

This recipe allows home cooks to practice two fundamental skills required for much Cajun and Creole cooking: making a roux and chopping and sauteing "the trinity," or Cajun/Creole mirepoix, of onion, celery and bell pepper.

Like with many beloved recipes, interpretations of étouffée vary - even within families. Some people insist it feature tomatoes - crushed or paste; some say never. Some thicken the sauce with a roux; others say it should be thinner and lighter. Some insist the fat be butter; others allow for more healthful substitutes, such as olive oil.

I came by this recipe through marriage. It's how my husband, a Cajun from Cut Off, a tiny town in Lafourche Parish, just before Louisiana meets the Gulf of Mexico, makes it. But even I tweak his version a bit, subbing in olive oil for most of the butter, retaining just a couple of tablespoons in the roux for flavor. This one is light on the spices, too. Some folks add bay leaf, thyme, a squeeze of fresh lemon or another pinch or two of fiery cayenne. We add garlic to ours, which some dismiss as a no-no. We also like to use red bell peppers rather than the traditional green.

That's the beauty of cooking at home, right? You get to make a dish the way you like it. That might be your grandmother's full-fat version or a lighter take that suits a more healthful diet.

I know I must earn your trust. I hope this étouffée gets us off on the right forkful.