Time to board our culinary time machine again today, and head back to the 1990s, when a vogue for a certain type of cooking really took hold and

grabbed the nation’s interest for several years.

I remember clearly that in the early 90s there was a real vogue for Cajun cuisine, specifically ‘blackened’ food.

You couldn’t move for smoky, peppery pieces of chicken or fish. There were rubs in sachets, powders in shakers and ready-made stir-fry sauces, all with that gloriously rich and fiery flavour.

As the meat or fish cooked, the coating would ‘catch’ and become charred, hence the term ‘blackened’, giving an unmistakeably deep smoky flavour of intense spices with a sizeable whack of heat. I used to make large batches of homemade seasoning and ‘blacken’ almost anything from steaks to chops, from tuna loin to chicken thighs.

It was a terrific, easy way of really livening up a drab ingredient. Then, almost overnight, the vogue for Cajun blackened food disappeared. We moved on to our next obsession, as is our nature.

For a few years now, though, I’ve been hankering for those forgotten flavours, and so I decided to get the skillet over the flames once more and cook me up some proper Cajun heat.

The term ‘Cajun’ comes from the word ‘Acadien’ which described the people who were exiled by the British from the area of Canada now known as Nova Scotia. ‘Acadiens’ was sometimes shortened to ‘Cadiens’ which then became anglicized to simply ‘Cajun’. The term now encompasses an entire cultural heritage of those living mostly in Southwest Louisiana, and their cuisine is one of the richest and most unique on earth.

It combines classic French cooking, its traditional ingredients and techniques, with the Creole approach – altogether more spicy, smoky and herb-based. All of which results in a wonderful panoply of recipes filled with glorious, lip-smacking names – etouffée, file, tasso, gumbo, beignets. Great chefs such as Paul Prudhomme and later Emeril Lagasse, would spread their cuisine worldwide (Prudhomme’s book was one of the first cookbooks I bought myself), and soon most interested cooks knew how to whisk up a jambalaya or fricassée.

More recently the film ‘Chef’ highlighted the food of New Orleans to great effect. It’s a film I cannot recommend highly enough, but please don’t watch it when hungry, for heaven’s sake.

This brings us to this week’s recipe, a classic combination of spicy fish and Creole rice. The rice is made using the famed ‘holy trinity’ of Creole cooking, onion, celery and green pepper, along with some sizzled bacon, garlic and herbs.

It’s a great supper dish as is, but we’re topping ours with a couple of pieces of nicely-blackened fish, tender within, and with that wonderfully aromatic charred exterior.

Much as I’d like the idea of us all sizzling up a ‘Mess O’ Catfish’, I’m not sure it’s a regular feature at my fishmongers – plus, it’s not a very pleasant-tasting fish in my opinion, so I chose haddock – firm enough to stay neat in the pan, and with enough flavour to accept the added spices.

Ask your fishmonger what he’d recommend, but any sustainable firm white fish such as cod, coley or sea bream would work well.

And of course, vege/pescetarians can simply omit the bacon from the rice and use vegetable or fish stock.

Laisser les bon temps rouler, as they say!

FOR THE FISH:

4x 250g fillets of firm white fish

FOR THE CAJUN SPICE MIX:

4 tablespoons unsmoked paprika

3 tablespoons onion powder

3 tablespoons garlic powder

40g Cayenne pepper

2 tablespoons ground white pepper

3 tablespoons freshly-ground black pepper

1 ½ tablespoons dried thyme

1 ½ tablespoons dried oregano

2 tablespoons dried mild chili peppers (ancho are ideal)

1 tablespoon dried chipotle chili peppers

FOR THE RICE:

300g basmati rice

1 litre medium-strength chicken or vegetable stock

3 tbsp olive oil

4 rashers of streaky bacon, chopped

½ onion, finely chopped

2 celery stalks, finely chopped

1 green pepper, finely diced

4 large spring onions

2 cloves garlic, minced

A small bunch of curly parsley, finely chopped

EXTRAS:

A little butter for finishing the fish

Fresh lemon juice

METHOD:

First, make the Cajun spice mix; simply whizz the ingredients together in a blender or spice mill until a smooth powder forms, then decant into a suitable jar or container. Set aside while you prepare the rice.

Trim the spring onions, separating the greens and whites. Rinse the rice under a cold tap until the liquid runs clear. Bring the stock to a rolling boil in a deep pan, and add the rice. Stir well and simmer until the rice is cooked, about 20 minutes or so.

Once the rice has finished cooking, remove the pan from heat and let it sit for 5 minutes. Strain the rice, reserving the liquid, and tip out onto a baking sheet or wide plate and drizzle about a tablespoon of olive oil over. Mix to combine and allow the rice to cool.

Reduce the cooking stock by about a half - don’t let it get too salty. In a large casserole or stock pan, gently heat a tablespoon of oil and fry the bacon until crispy. Add the chopped onion, celery, green pepper, garlic and white of spring onion and sizzle gently for a few minutes.

Add a little stock and deglaze the pan by scraping the bottom with a wooden spoon. Turn the heat to high, allow most of the liquid to evaporate, and then add the cooked rice.

Cook until the rice is heated through, then add the greens of the spring onions and the chopped parsley.

To cook the fish, heat a little oil in a wide frying pan. Dust the fish fillets with a liberal coating of the seasoning, and sizzle for a few minutes on each side, until the fish is all but cooked.

Remove from the heat, and swirl in a little butter, basting the fillets. Squeeze over a little splash of fresh lemon juice and serve immediately with the dirty rice and a nice cold beer.