Paul Prudhomme, the inaugural Cajun celebrity chef, burst onto the American food scene just in time to rescue me and my brothers from a mother who was indifferent to food. Against the backdrop of a kitchen plagued by dry pork chops and canned peas, my brother, inspired by a friend, made Prudhomme’s Chicken Big Mamou on pasta for our family.
It was a food moment that redeemed our entire childhood.
We were enthralled to find that combining red and white peppers with other spices could produce a dish so full of depth and flavor. To say that Chicken Big Mamou is cubed chicken bathed in tomato sauce and served over pasta leaves out the subtleties that make this dish so memorable. Onions, garlic, and Cajun spices are sautéed in butter to create a soulful base, to which plain tomato sauce and stock are added. After the flavors are allowed to meld by simmering, chopped green onion and sautéed bits of chicken rubbed with additional spices are added to the sauce. The final product is a rich mingling of flavors, formed by infusing herbs and spices into the base early in the process.
The experience inspired us to relinquish our prior food experience and begin anew. With cupboards full of new herbs and spices, we were off to explore new culinary horizons.
Chicken Big Mamou became our signature, a way to punctuate homecomings, cold nights, and celebrations. It’s a dish that my brothers and I have now passed down to our children—an odd legacy for a family from the northeast United States without ties to the bayous of Louisiana.
Louisiana Roots
The recipe hails from Prudhomme’s first cookbook, “Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Louisiana Kitchen,” published in 1984 and acclaimed for capturing the essence of Louisiana’s culinary heritage. In his recipes, Prudhomme walks us back to his childhood kitchen in the middle of Opelousas, Louisiana, where, as the youngest of 13 children in a family of poor sharecroppers, he was charged with helping his mother cook. The family farm served as an incubator for both his sensibility as a cook and his philosophy as a chef: Fresh, local ingredients provide a base for dishes rooted in the culinary and cultural tapestry of the Cajun and Creole South.As a chef, Prudhomme paid careful homage to his roots. He saw himself as a messenger or a conduit through which Cajun cuisine found its way to a global audience, patiently recounting the complex origins of Cajun and Creole cuisines in countless interviews while humbly insisting that he wasn’t the only one responsible for its popularity.
“The food itself is really responsible,” Prudhomme once told a C-SPAN reporter, “and the people who have carried on the tradition for so many years.”
On a deeper level, his family heritage is woven through the history of Louisiana itself. Prudhomme’s ancestors were Acadians—French colonists who settled in the coastal areas of modern-day northeast Canada. They were expelled by the British in the mid-18th century, which led to the scattering of the Acadian population to various locations, including the American colonies and Louisiana. The settlers in the Deep South developed a distinctive style of cooking that incorporated elements of French cuisine but also reflected the unique flavors of the Gulf Coast region.
Prudhomme was intensely proud of his heritage, a sentiment echoed by chef Marty Cosgrove, once his trusted assistant and friend, now president and CEO of Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Magic Seasoning Blends. The Mamou dish, he says, originated in the tiny Louisiana town of Mamou.
“It was the simplicity of the dish, and its fresh ingredients, that made it so popular,” Mr. Cosgrove explained. “Louisiana cooking is simple cooking, but it’s that long, slow cooking which is a common thread in our cuisine—whether it’s gumbo, jambalaya, or any of the mother sauces like étouffée and bisque.
“And the name is fun. People always ask where the name Mamou came from. Was it someone’s grandmother? A nickname you were called in school?”
A Legacy of Joy
While traveling in Nova Scotia several years ago, I stumbled into the heart of chef Prudhomme’s cooking traditions. Exploring the quaint villages and coastal beauty of this region offered me a connection to the Cajun dishes that have punctuated my life.The Acadians created a lively and distinctive culture there on the shores of the Atlantic—remnants of a past still visible through the region’s music, festivals, and food. Like the Acadians, my family holds a deep appreciation for hospitality and culinary pursuits, and poking through towns named Annapolis Royal and Grand-Pré, I came to think that my brothers and I are drawn to Cajun dishes because they’re full of personality. Prudhomme drew upon the knowledge passed down through generations, incorporating traditional ingredients and techniques into his dishes, but he also added subtle notes of joy and a love for life imbued by his forebears.
The late chef Paul Prudhomme. Public domain
Prudhomme died in 2015, and his popular New Orleans restaurant, K-Paul’s Louisiana Kitchen, permanently closed during the COVID-19 pandemic. But his legacy lives on.
Food is the stuff of memory, mutual creation, and gratitude. Family culinary traditions tie us together and transport us to our past. We’re reminded of the good things—a grandmother’s kitchen, a favorite holiday, a day that made us happy. And there aren’t any rules when it comes to family food traditions. You can borrow a dish such as Chicken Big Mamou or tikka masala and make it yours for a lifetime.
“You can put wonderful ingredients in a pot and come out with a dish like gumbo, full of flavor, full of personality, full of great taste,” Mr. Cosgrove said. “Families are the exact same way—a big old pot, lots of personalities, different ages, different people. It takes all kinds of ingredients to be a family, just like a good dish.”
In the margins of my recipe page in Prudhomme’s first cookbook, I often write the dates and the occasions I’ve made Mamou. They’re like little love notes interspersed between the splatter of sauce and butter, the ingredients that bind my family together in a mutual appreciation for the past and for one another.
Chicken Big Mamou on Pasta
Don’t be put off by the bold and spicy ingredients in the recipe. Mamou is a dish that boasts levels of flavor, and the heat can be adjusted to suit individual tastes.This adaptation of Paul Prudhomme’s recipe cuts back on the butter and includes an option to scale back the heat for less adventurous souls. Halve the amounts of ground red and white pepper in both of the seasoning blends, and reduce or omit the Tabasco sauce to decrease the intensity of the dish.
Good chicken stock makes for a better dish. Making your own stock is preferable, but I also like roasted chicken base that comes in a jar. Use a good-quality canned tomato sauce, such as an imported Italian brand.
Pay attention to simmering times. Good Cajun dishes are all about slow cooking. This dish pairs well with crusty bread for mopping up the sauce, along with a tossed side salad with vinaigrette dressing.
Prep Time: 30 minutes
Cook Time: 60 minutes
Total Time: 90 minutes
Serves 6
For the Sauce Seasoning Mix
- 2 teaspoons dried thyme leaves
- 1 1/4 teaspoons ground red pepper (3/4 teaspoon for mild)
- 3/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon dried sweet basil leaves
- 1 1/2 teaspoons white pepper (3/4 teaspoon for mild)
- 1 1/2 tablespoons salt
- 1 1/2 teaspoons white pepper (3/4 teaspoon for mild)
- 1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder
- 1 1/4 teaspoons ground red pepper (3/4 teaspoon for mild)
- 1 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon dried sweet basil leaves
- 1/2 pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter, divided
- 1 cup very finely chopped onions
- 4 medium-sized garlic cloves, peeled, plus 2 teaspoons minced garlic
- 3 1/4 cups rich chicken stock, divided
- 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
- 1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce (omit for less intensity, or reduce to 1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon)
- 2 (16-ounce) cans or 1 (28-ounce) can tomato sauce
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 2 cups very finely chopped green onions, divided
- 1 pound dried spaghetti (or 1 1/2 pound fresh pasta)
- 2 pounds boneless chicken breast, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
In a 4-quart saucepan, combine 1 stick of the butter, the onions, and the whole garlic cloves. Sauté over medium heat for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the minced garlic and the sauce seasoning mix. Continue cooking over medium heat until onions are brown but not burned, about 8 to 10 minutes, stirring often.
Next, add 2 1/2 cups of the chicken stock, the Worcestershire sauce, and Tabasco sauce. Bring to a quick simmer and cook about 8 minutes, stirring often.
Stir in the tomato sauce and bring the mixture to a boil. Then stir in the sugar and 1 cup of the green onions. Gently simmer, uncovered, for about 40 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Cook the spaghetti while the sauce is simmering. Set aside.
Sprinkle the chicken seasoning mix over the chicken, rubbing it in with your hands. In a large skillet, melt the remaining stick of butter over medium heat. Add chicken and the remaining 1 cup green onions and sauté over high heat for about 10 minutes, stirring frequently, until the chicken is cooked through.
To serve, you can prepare the plates one of two ways. Prudhomme suggests heating individual portions of spaghetti in a skillet with 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon (or 2 if needed) of the leftover chicken stock, stirring constantly. Add 1 1/2 cups of the sauce to the skillet to heat through. Roll spaghetti with a large fork and transfer to a serving plate.
To save time, you can add the contents of the sauté pan to the sauce. When ready to serve, plate individual servings of spaghetti and pour 1 1/2 cups of the sauce over each one.
