Name: Easy Shrimp Creole
Prep time: 15 min
Cook time: 25 min
Total time: 40 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Creole
Ingredients: 1 pound large shrimp, peeled and deveined; 2 tablespoons olive oil; 1 medium onion, chopped; 1 green bell pepper, chopped; 2 celery stalks, chopped; 3 garlic cloves, minced; 1 (14-ounce) can diced tomatoes; 2 teaspoons Creole or Cajun seasoning; 1/2 teaspoon salt; 1/4 teaspoon black pepper; 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional); 2 green onions, sliced; Cooked white rice, for serving

Let’s Talk Shrimp Creole (aka, my not-so-secret weapon after a busy day)

You know those recipes that just feel like home, even if your actual home is many states away from Louisiana? Well, Easy Shrimp Creole is that dish for me. I stumbled onto this recipe years ago during a last-minute, panic-induced attempt to impress someone (spoiler: that date didn’t last, but the recipe definitely did). Quick warning: this isn’t the kind of meal you want to rush unless burnt garlic is your jam—trust me, been there, not going back.

I’ve tweaked things over the seasons (and let’s be honest, depending on what’s in the fridge), but it’s always turned out pretty darn tasty. Oh, and once I actually dropped an entire bowl of tomatoes on the floor—don’t do that. Tiles are unforgiving, and so was my dog.

Why You’ll Love This

I make Easy Shrimp Creole when I’m short on prep time but need something cozy with a little spice. My family goes bananas (not literally, thank goodness) for it because it’s saucy and there’s plenty to go around—usually. Honestly, the most annoying thing is peeling the shrimp, but I switch to frozen pre-peeled ones when I don’t have it in me. Nobody complains; it all gets scarfed up either way! It’s also great when you’ve got that random bell pepper hanging out in the veggie drawer, begging for purpose.

What You’ll Need (and Some Substitutions I’ve Tried)

1 pound raw shrimp, peeled & deveined (I sometimes use the frozen ones—you do you)
1 medium onion, chopped (Vidalia is nice, but any onion pulls its weight)
1 green bell pepper, diced (or red! Actually, I think red’s a little sweeter, but use what you like)
2 celery stalks, chopped (never measure celery; just grab a couple stalks…)
3 cloves garlic, minced (the more, the merrier in my book)
1 can (14 oz) diced tomatoes (granny swore by Rotel, but honestly, store brand works too)
1/2 cup chicken broth (or water + bouillon cube if you’re out—it happens)
2 teaspoons Creole seasoning (Tony’s is classic, but I’ve used Old Bay in a pinch—different, but not bad)
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce (I sometimes forget this; somehow, it survives without it)
Dash of hot sauce (or more if you’re feeling brave)
1 tablespoon tomato paste (not strictly needed, but I think it adds oomph)
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon vegetable oil (olive oil works too—just a little different flavor)
Cooked white rice, to serve (rice is non-negotiable in my book)
Chopped parsley, to finish (when I remember!)

How I Throw It All Together

Heat up your favorite big skillet (or dutch oven if you’re feeling classy) over medium heat. Add the oil—about a tablespoon—and let it get shimmery, but don’t stress over it.
Toss in your chopped onion, bell pepper, and celery (that’s the “holy trinity” if you want to get fancy). Stir them until they’re soft and kind of smell sweet—5 minutes, give or take. Sometimes I get distracted at this stage—just don’t let them burn, okay?
Next up, add your garlic. Not too early or it’ll get bitter. About 30 seconds does the trick, just until it smells, well, awesome.
Stir in the diced tomatoes (juice and all), tomato paste, chicken broth, Worcestershire, Creole seasoning, bay leaf, and your hot sauce. Give it a good stir and make sure nothing’s lurking at the bottom stuck on!
Let the whole thing bubble away for about 10–15 minutes. The sauce will thicken a bit—it’s supposed to look kind of chunky (don’t panic, it sorts itself out by the end). Here’s where I usually sneak a taste and sometimes add a bit more seasoning—go wild.
Toss in the shrimp (they cook super fast!). Simmer 3–5 minutes, stirring gently, until they’re pink and curly. They’re done when they’re opaque—if you overcook them, they get kind of bouncy (and not in a good way).
Fish out the bay leaf. Serve over a big spoonful of cooked white rice. Sprinkle with parsley if you’ve got it—and if you actually remembered; I forget all the time.

Notes I’ve Discovered (the Hard Way)

If your sauce gets too thick, honestly just add a splash more broth—no shame.
Sometimes I start with frozen shrimp, and I forget to thaw them all the way… they still turn out okay, though they do make the sauce a bit watery at first. Just simmer a minute longer.
Pepper seeds sneak in—eh, picks of character! (Just fish them out later if you spot ’em.)

Variations & Experiments

So, I once tried it with leftover smoked sausage because I was out of shrimp—turns out, that’s a pretty good twist. I’ve also subbed in cauliflower rice for the regular stuff when I was ‘being good,’ but, honestly, it needs a bit more sauce to feel indulgent. Oh, and please don’t try tofu instead of shrimp, at least not the way I did; the texture just, well, wasn’t my favorite (but hey, maybe you’ll crack the code?)

Tools and a Little Workaround

I always grab my trusty 12-inch skillet, but once I had to make do with a saucepan (long story involving a kitchen reorganization ‘incident’). Saucepan worked, though the stirring was awkward. If you have a nonstick pan, it’ll make cleanup so much easier, but really, use what you’ve got—don’t let tools slow you down.

How to Store Leftovers (If You Have Any…?)

Just chuck leftovers in an airtight container—the fridge is fine for a day or two, maybe three on a good run. Reheat gently on the stove or microwave (with a splash of water if it’s thick). I swear, I think it tastes even better the next day, but honestly, in my house it never lasts that long!

Serving This Up—How We Do It

I pile mine over way too much rice, usually with a side of garlic bread (that’s not traditional, but hey, it’s my table). When it’s just me, I eat it from a big bowl standing at the counter—nobody’s judging. Once, my cousin insisted on a squeeze of lemon; not bad, actually. Personal touch: sometimes a sprinkle of green onion if it’s payday and I’ve splurged.

Lessons Learned in the Trenches (aka Pro Tips)

Don’t rush sautéing the veggies—once I tried, and they came out crunchy (not in a good way). 5–8 minutes, no more, no less. Well, maybe sometimes more…
If your sauce splatters, just let it—clean it up later, or call it “kitchen character.”
Taste as you go. I’ve been over-ambitious with seasoning before; a little goes a long way, especially salt.

Some FAQs, Because I Know You’ll Ask

Can I make this less spicy?
Oh, for sure! Just dial back on the Creole seasoning and skip the hot sauce if you want. Nobody’s making you sweat (unless you want that gumbo glow, you know?).
Do I have to use shrimp?
Nope. Chicken, sausage, or even chunks of white fish, if that’s what you’ve got. Just adjust cooking times so they’re cooked through—I once used undercooked fish and…yeah, not my best work.
What’s the best rice to serve it with?
I just use basic long grain white, but jasmine gives it a fancy edge (although my Uncle calls that “restaurant rice”—whatever that means).
Can I freeze leftovers?
Technically, yes, but the shrimp can get a bit rubbery after freezing. Honestly, just eat it up in a day or two—reheated leftovers are my personal lunchtime treat.
Why does my sauce look separated?
Don’t panic—sometimes the tomatoes and oil pretend they’re not friends, but a good stir always brings them back together. If not, just serve it anyway; still tastes good!

Alright, enough chatter. Go make it—and text me if you drop the tomatoes, because I’ll need photographic evidence. Happy cooking!

Easy Shrimp Creole