GUMBO FOR DUMBOS

     Feel like cooking?  Got all day?  Then I have just the thing for you, my friend.  Whip yourself up a big old pot of gumbo!  Wait, I'm lying because there's no such thing as whipping this stuff up.  It is an arduous process of chopping and measuring and standing and stirring and watching like a hawk and stirring and watching like a hawk and standing and stirring, stirring, stirring.  But if you live through the prep, you will be treated to a pot of gold, quite literally.

     I spent several days assembling all the ingredients and performing an assortment of pre-prep stretching and strengthening exercises.  Also on my mind was what to do about Puppy (have I mentioned we have a new puppy???????) so I didn't suffer a repeat of the ricotta cheese debacle.  But I worried needlessly.  Puppy's most recent favorite spot to recline is right in front of the kitchen stove, so there he was in all his glory during the entire process (puppies sleep A LOT).  I was able to keep a good eye on him, though I did have to straddle him during the entire standing and stirring process, a position I had not sufficiently stretched for.  But I digress.

     I'm from Virginia, but since that's not really the deep South, I didn't come out of the womb with an inherent knowledge of the mystery that is THE ROUX.  And let me tell you, gumbo is all about THE ROUX.  This mixture of fat and flour must be stirred constantly at a low temperature to ensure that it doesn't burn, and it takes close to an hour for it turn from white to a chocolate brown, and if you so much as blink, it will scorch and you will have to start from scratch.  But you probably won't and by then you will RUE the day you ever heard about THE ROUX.  (Go ahead, insert your derogatory noise here.)

      After wisely visiting the "ladies' lounge," (because believe me, there will be no time for THAT kind of nonsense once you start stirring) and 20 minutes of chopping vegetables, I began THE ROUX process, which I was told would take 20 to 30 minutes and which actually took a full hour.  By the time my mixture turned the proper color, my neck was stiff, my stirring arm was cramping, and my low back was talking to me.  But Puppy was sleeping like a rock!  Once THE ROUX is complete, it's nothing but a roller coaster ride from there, most of which is just simmering time.  By the end of the day, the house smelled like Louisiana and our mouths were watering.  I liked it, but my husband loved it, which is the only thing that really matters to me, so I call this ragin' Cajun kitchen adventure a huge success!

     I'm not going to take the time or the space to include the recipe here because there are so many of them on the Internet, but if you have one you particularly like, I would love to see it.