Yesterday I spent the afternoon on the phone with my mom and a good friend, whining to them about how lately my pants are fitting much snugger than I’d like. (I blame these.) But then for dinner I proceeded to make homemade gumbo for the first time, which involved an oil-and-butter roux, vegetables sautéed in fat drippings from two kinds of meat, copious amounts of shrimp, and not-a-shred-of-nutritional-value white bread toasted for dunking. There was a fire in the fireplace and an ice storm outside and I didn’t regret a single bite of it because it was so. damn. good. Thanks, Paula Deen!
The roux is the most amazing part of the whole deal; you cook it for what feels like forever, stirring it all the while, until it turns the color of chocolate. When I first added it to the soup, I thought “oh god it’s RUINED” because it smelled like burnt popcorn. But then you let it simmer for nearly an hour and something magic happens, and you lift the lid of the pot and it smells like IMUSTEATTHISRIGHTNOW, but then you add tomatoes and it simmers for yet another hour, and by then, well, forget it, you’re tucking into that bowl before the bread is even done toasting. But as amazing as this meat fest was (and it gets even better after a night in the fridge), I would make a few changes next time, so as not to feel on Day Two like I might need to repent with a week of strict vegetarianism and detox yoga. It’s probably Cajun-Creole blasphemy to change the recipe, but I don’t care—I don’t want to have to buy new pants, thank you. Even if you’re of the meat-loving persuasion, I’d omit some of the meat (one chicken breast and two sausages would have been plenty), and maybe even reduce the roux by half, adding another can of tomatoes and more peppers. Then you can really truly justify a second bowl, ‘cause it’s, like, sorta healthy, right? You’re welcome.
