Good breakfast casserole starts the night before. That's when you build it, layer by layer, and let everything get acquainted in the refrigerator while you sleep. The bread soaks up the egg custard, the andouille releases its smoky fat into the vegetables, and by morning you have something that bakes up golden and satisfying without any work at all.

My grandmother Evangeline never called it a casserole. She called it a strata, and she made it every Christmas morning while we were still rubbing sleep from our eyes. The smell of that andouille browning, the peppers sizzling in rendered fat, the eggs and cheese bubbling in her old cast iron. That's the smell of Louisiana mornings.

At Lagniappe, we serve a version of this on our Sunday brunch menu, and it disappears faster than anything else we put out. The secret is treating every component with respect. Season your sausage when it hits the pan. Season your vegetables when they go in. Taste the egg mixture before it covers everything. You're building flavor in layers, and every layer matters.

Don't be shy with the Cajun seasoning. This is country breakfast, not hotel breakfast. The heat should wake you up, the richness should sustain you, and the last bite should be as good as the first. That's the bayou way.