Shrimp Etuffee
The Simplified Shrimp Étouffée My Family Has Made for Generations
Prep time: 10 minutes | Cook time: 20 minutes | Serves: 4-6 | Freezer-Friendly
This isn’t your traditional étouffée (pronounced ay-too-fay) —it’s arguably better and definitely easier. Or at least, that’s what my family would tell you. While classic étouffée is loaded with the holy trinity of vegetables, tomatoes, and a dark roux that takes patience, this is a simplified version of buttery, paprika-rich broth with tender shrimp that is perfectly cozy.
This recipe has been a staple in my family for as long as I can remember. My mom made it on cold nights when we needed something warm and comforting but didn’t want to spend hours in the kitchen. My grandmother made it before her.
What I love about this version and what keeps me passing the recipe down is its simplicity. No chopping bell peppers and celery. No standing over a roux for 30 minutes hoping it doesn’t burn. Just butter, green onions, a quick blonde roux, and a warm, rich broth. It’s more soup than stew, which means it’s lighter than traditional étouffée but still satisfying. Serve it over rice or a baked potato, and you’ve got a meal that is perfect.
Ingredients:
1 pound peeled shrimp (medium or large work best)
1 stick butter
1 bunch green onions, sliced (white and green parts)
3 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
4 cups (32oz) chicken bone broth (or regular chicken broth)
1-2 Tablespoons paprika (start with 1, add more for deeper color and flavor)
1 teaspoon Tony’s seasoning
Salt and pepper to taste
Instructions:
Melt the butter in a large pot or deep skillet over medium heat. Let it get fully melted but don’t let it brown.
Add the green onions and sauté for 1-2 minutes until they’re softened and fragrant.
Sprinkle in the flour and stir constantly to create a roux. You’re looking for a smooth, paste-like consistency with no lumps—this should only take 2-3 minutes. It doesn’t need to darken; a blonde roux is perfect for this.
Slowly add the broth while stirring constantly. Pour it in gradually (not all at once) to avoid lumps. Keep stirring until the mixture is completely smooth.
Add paprika and Tony’s
Bring to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until the broth thickens slightly—about 8-10 minutes. You want it thicker than regular soup but still pourable.
Add the shrimp and cook for 5-6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until they’re pink, opaque, and cooked through. Don’t overcook or they’ll get rubbery.
Taste and adjust seasoning. Add more Tony’s, salt, or pepper as needed. I usually add a some cracked black pepper at the end.
Serve immediately over white rice or split baked potatoes. Ladle it generously—you want plenty of that broth soaking into everything.
Pro tips:
Make it a freezer meal: Double the recipe and freeze the broth base without the shrimp. When you’re ready to eat, thaw, reheat, and add fresh shrimp. This way the shrimp don’t get overcooked and rubbery.
Bulk it up with veggies: This is intentionally simple, but if you want more vegetables, sauté diced celery, carrots, or bell peppers with the green onions in step 2.
Rice vs. potato: Rice is traditional and soaks up the broth beautifully. Baked potatoes are a twist I experienced at a Cajun restaurant—break open the potato, ladle the étouffée over it, and it’s like a Louisiana-style loaded potato.
Paprika matters: Use regular paprika, not smoked. You want color and mild sweetness, not smokiness.
Bone broth upgrade: I use bone broth for extra richness and protein, but regular chicken broth works perfectly fine.
What makes this different from traditional étouffée: Traditional étouffée has tomatoes, the holy trinity (onions, celery, bell peppers), and a darker roux. This version skips all that for something lighter, faster, and honestly, easier to make on a weeknight. It’s more brothy, which makes it perfect for soaking into rice or potatoes. Think of it as étouffée’s approachable cousin.
This is Louisiana comfort food without the fuss. It’s what my family reaches for when we want that warm, familiar flavor but don’t have two hours to stand over the stove. And every time I make it, I’m reminded of my mom’s kitchen, cold nights, and the kind of food that makes you feel taken care of.