Thought for Food

January 22, 2010

Sunday’s N.F.C. Championship Matchup

Hey! Don’t laugh. I like football … when it involves deliciously fattening food, my best friends, and two of my favorite places in the world: NOLA and my home state of Minnesota.

And to commemorate this historic showdown, I’m making GUMBO. (This is as close as I get to a religious experience. Gotta use CAPS.)

The last — and only — time I made gumbo, I used a recipe that called for a slew of assistants. Jane and Andrea were champion choppers but let me tell ya, when you’re making gumbo, you want M. in your corner. The other night he made Andouille sausage and then he roasted 3 chickens and made a couple gallons of stock for the gumbo and then he braised some pork shank … just ‘cause. I mean, who wouldn’t want a little pork in their gumbo? (Plus smoked ham hocks for flavor, which he also sourced for me.)

Today he’s getting live crabs and shrimp and okra and later we’ll make seafood stock with the crab and shrimp shells. I think that maniac is even planning to cook and shell the crabs before I get home from work.

…

Stop right there. I know what you’re thinking. “Seems like it’s M. who’s making this gumbo.”

See that’s where you’re wrong. On Sunday, I will be the one adding flour to hot butter to make the roux, stirring it ‘til it’s the just-right shade of deep chestnut brown. I will be the one gently cooking the Holy Trinity, then the okra, and adding spices, salting, tasting, waiting for the exact moment to add more stock, then sausage discs, chicken pieces, shredded pork, crab, and shrimp. I will be the one again tasting, testing, adjusting, and finally — at the instant when the flavors meld, dance, and explode into unmistakable GUMBONESS, I will bring the pot to the table.

That’s how you tell the gumbo master from the gumbo ya-ya.

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