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Created by Chef Remy
A tangy, unapologetic sauce loaded with Creole mustard, briny capers, and enough Louisiana hot sauce to let you know you're eating something real, the only tartar sauce worth serving alongside fried Gulf seafood.
Regular tartar sauce has no business sitting next to a properly fried piece of catfish. That bland, mayo-forward dipping sauce you get at chain restaurants? It's a missed opportunity. Down here, we build flavor into everything, and a condiment is no exception.
This is the tartar sauce we serve at Lagniappe, the one that makes people ask for the recipe before they've finished their po'boy. The secret is layering: Creole mustard brings that coarse-ground heat and vinegar tang, capers add brininess that cuts through the richness of fried food, and Louisiana hot sauce ties it all together with a warmth that builds as you eat.
My grandmother Evangeline used to say that a good sauce should make plain food sing and great food unforgettable. She'd stir hers together in an old ceramic bowl, tasting and adjusting until it was right. No measuring cups. Just instinct and a heavy hand with the hot sauce. That's the bayou way.
Make this a day ahead if you can. The flavors need time to get acquainted, to meld into something greater than the sum of their parts. By the next morning, you won't recognize it as the same sauce you stirred together.
Quantity
1 1/2 cups
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
2 tablespoons
drained and roughly chopped
Quantity
3 tablespoons
finely minced
Quantity
2 tablespoons
finely sliced, white and light green parts
Quantity
1 tablespoon
minced
Quantity
2 teaspoons
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1 teaspoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
1 small
minced to a paste
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1/4 teaspoon
Quantity
to taste
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| good-quality mayonnaise | 1 1/2 cups |
| Creole mustard | 3 tablespoons |
| capersdrained and roughly chopped | 2 tablespoons |
| dill picklefinely minced | 3 tablespoons |
| green onionsfinely sliced, white and light green parts | 2 tablespoons |
| fresh flat-leaf parsleyminced | 1 tablespoon |
| fresh lemon juice | 2 teaspoons |
| Worcestershire sauce | 1 teaspoon |
| Louisiana hot sauce | 1 teaspoon, plus more to taste |
| garlic cloveminced to a paste | 1 small |
| sweet paprika | 1/2 teaspoon |
| freshly ground black pepper | 1/4 teaspoon |
| kosher salt | to taste |
Spoon the mayonnaise into a medium mixing bowl. Add the Creole mustard and stir until completely incorporated. This is your foundation. The mustard should streak through the mayo at first, then disappear into a pale tan base with visible mustard seeds throughout. Take a taste right now. You're learning what the sauce is before you build it into what it will become.
Fold in the chopped capers and minced pickle. These two ingredients do the heavy lifting for texture and tang. The capers should be roughly chopped so you get little bursts of brininess in each bite. The pickle adds a different kind of sour, sweeter and more familiar. Stir gently to distribute evenly.
Add the green onions, parsley, and garlic paste. The green onions bring a mild onion bite without the harshness of raw white onion. The parsley adds freshness and color. The garlic paste should dissolve into the sauce, adding depth without announcing itself. Stir everything together until the flecks of green are scattered throughout like confetti.
Add the lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, paprika, and black pepper. The lemon brightens everything. The Worcestershire adds that savory depth we call umami. The hot sauce brings warmth that builds slowly. Stir well and taste. This is where you make it yours.
Here's where most folks go wrong: they stop too soon. Dip a clean spoon in and taste. Does it need more acid? Add another squeeze of lemon. More heat? A few more shakes of hot sauce. More salt? Probably. The capers and pickles add some, but a pinch of kosher salt often ties everything together. Keep tasting until it makes you want to fry something just to have an excuse to eat more.
Transfer to a clean jar or covered container and refrigerate for at least one hour before serving. Two hours is better. Overnight is best. The flavors need time to bloom and marry. When you taste it after resting, you'll understand why patience matters. Serve cold alongside fried catfish, shrimp po'boys, crab cakes, or anything else that needs a bold, tangy partner.
1 serving (about 30g)
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