Gumbo

 

That’s right, people. We may not have a festive parade, insanely drunk citizens, shiny beads, or a hurricane warning every other week but we do have…

Coconut Cake and Okra Gumbo. Oh. Yea. Baby. Y’all are gonna be real happy after this here meal.

It seems like Gumbo is something that can intimidate people, but it really shouldn’t. Once you get the roux (oil + flour) making down, you can have yourself a bowl of yumminess anytime you get a hankering. Of course, if you don’t have the wherewithal to pull off a good roux then you should just turn around, tuck your tail between your legs, and kiss any sense of self respect goodbye. It takes time, love, and strong forearms, so…head on over to the gym and start pumping some iron!

So what is a roux?

It is a flour and oil base for many sauces and soups that acts as a thickening agent. In the case of gumbo it also provides the color, which can tell your consumers right off the bat how much time and effort (ie LOVE) you put into this dish. The longer the roux cooks, the darker the color and the better the flavor. That is why, minions of Earth, you have to dedicate yourself to this dish mind, body, and spirit. But be weary! Burning the roux will bring Saint Peter himself down from the pearly gates to ensure you of your rejection from Heaven before you even have one foot in the grave.

So now that I’ve frightened you into submission, let’s get started. Get a heavy bottomed (preferably cast iron…in fact, it’s pretty much required in my book) pot, keeping in mind that the entire dish will be made in this pot. So make it big! My Le Creuset is 5 quarts, which is as big as I’ve got.

You need to be prepared to cool down the roux quickly once it gets to a dark brown, so chop up all your veggies before you turn on the heat. You can choose almost anything, but I went with the “holy trinity” (onion, bell pepper, and celery…but then I forgot the celery, cause I’m smart and didn’t make a list when I went to the store) and okra.

So dice finely:
1 large onion
1 large green pepper
If you want some tips for chopping onions nice and small but without taking twelve years, go here. Keep these items separate.

And chop bite-size:
1 yellow pepper
1 red pepper
Keeping separate from:
1 pound okra. If you’re unfamiliar with okra, simply rinse it and chop like so:

Don’t freak out when the okra oozes this weird, slimy stuff as you chop it. It’s supposed to do that, so try not to judge it too harshly. It tends to weird most people out, but trust me: it doesn’t linger once it’s cooked.

Place 3/4 cup flour and 3/4 canola oil in your pot. It’s important to not use olive oil since the “smoke point” is much lower than canola and can cause the roux to burn much faster. No bueno. Whisk them together and then turn the heat to medium. Some books tell you to only use low heat, but that would take you about 72 years. I usually bounce back and forth between med-high to med-low, depending on how hot the oil gets. Now, this next part is important and if you ignore it you will fail:

Stir constantly. I mean it, people. If you could see my face, you would note that it is unsmiling! You need to keep the flour moving (a wooden spoon is best) or else it will burn to the bottom of the pan. Then what? Then NOTHING! You will be cast out for being a complete loser and no one will talk to you. Ever.

It took me about 15 minutes to go from the above (blond) roux to this:

Still not good enough. I find that my eyes try and trick me into thinking that this is ten times darker than it’s starting color, but it’s not. Have a friend come over and inform you that you’re imagination is running wild and keep whisking. Ten more minutes in:

I know. Great picture, right? I’m a regular Ansel Adams. But it is a tad difficult to whisk constantly and take a picture with an iPhone at the same time. Just shows you how dedicated I am!

So at this point the roux was starting to smoke, which is a tell-tale sign that it is going to burn soon unless you spring, cat-like, into action. If you’re really vigilant and want to make it an almost black color, turn the heat down before it starts to smoke and continue cooking at low heat. Some people take hours to make a roux. I am not those people…I had other fish to fry (so to speak).

When you’re satisfied with the color, turn the heat off and immediately add the pepper and onion (and celery, if you remembered it). It’s going to splatter everywhere, so duck and cover once you throw it in. Stir it around and then turn the heat back on, adding a couple of tablespoons tomato paste and some cayenne pepper.

I also throw in some tabasco, just for the heck of it. After all, Tabasco is made in Louisiana, so it belongs in this dish.

Fill up your tea kettle and heat up some water, for later. Allow the roux and veggies about 30 minutes to marinate over medium heat, covered and with an occasional stir. It’s going to look weird, like a bubbling mass of dirt. But never fear– unless you do something stupid, it will taste lovely. Add the okra and cook for another 15 minutes, until everything is nice and soft.

In the mean time you can chop up your collard greens. Rinse the leaves and rip out the ribs. Take the biggest pieces and layer the smaller ones on top so that you have a neat stack of collards. Roll them like a sushi chef and chop!

Set them aside. You can also take this opportunity to brown whatever meat you’re using, if any. I chose andouille sausage, but you can also try shrimp, duck, or chicken.

If you’re doing shrimp then leave them til the end– they only take a few minutes to cook and you can do it right in the gumbo pot.

Now you’re going to fill the pot with the hot water, going to about an inch below the top. You can use chicken stock if you’d like, but water works just fine. Let it come up to a boil, add the meat and reduce heat to a simmer. You can let this cook for another 1-2 hours, the longer the better in most cases.  It will become nice and thick (that’s your roux doing its “thang”).

When you’re about 20 minutes from serving time, get your rice cooking and add the rest of the bell peppers to the gumbo. When you’ve got five minutes left, add the collard greens, salt, and pepper.

When you’re dishing this up remember that it is a soup, not a sauce. The rice is there to swim merrily in the depths of your bowl, not be the key player. A 4-to-1 ratio of gumbo to rice is splendid.

Enjoy!

NOM NOM!
NOM!

PS I can’t go into much detail about the Coconut Cake since I’m tired after all this blogging, but I will say thanks to Baker’s Illustrated for their awesome recipe. I can tell you that it was AMAZING and you must go out and purchase this book right now. Hopefully I can get to that fascinating tale soon!

Chop me up

A quick an easy way to dice onions, so you don’t have to spend the evening assuring everyone that you weren’t crying over lingering memories of Old Yeller.

Cut the onion in half from root to bud. You will want each half to have “ends”. Peel off the crispy outer layer.

Now chop off the bud top. Take your impressive chef knife and slice the onion like this:

Make several cuts like this up the side of the onion, being careful not to pass the knife all the way through. Cut almost to the root end, but leaving it intact so that the layers stay together. Then make cuts like this:

Now you’re ready for action. Turn the onion and do the final onion chopping dance:

Voila! Depending on how many cuts you make along the way, you can have tiny little bits or larger. Supersweet!

Creamy Lemon Chick Peas with Garlic Polenta

 

I know it will be hard, but try not to be too jealous of this awesome meal I just consumed. I can feel your efforts straining across the world wide web, and I pity you.

I felt inspired by a friend’s description of his Tuscan dinner as the best dinner this year, so I decided to grab that metaphorical bull by his gnarly horns and craft my own. It almost proved impossible as my cupboards are fairly dismal, but being resourceful and so fabulous, I made the most of what I had. The result?

The Odd But Delicious Creamy, Lemony, Chick Pea, Spinach, and Arugula over Garlic Polenta. That is the full title.

If you know me at all kitchen-wise, you know it’s very difficult for me to use recipes. Cooking is like Jazz music, baking is like Classical. There is a time to improvise and a time to follow the rules, and cooking with rules is like drinking non-alcoholic beer: where’s the fun? Tonight was no different: I looked at what I had, closed my eyes, and ate the result.

Half-way through this experiment I was thinking it might be one of those nights where I try and feed my cat one of my failed attempts at genius, but I was so very wrong. My thinking all along was to have a creamy, garlic-y polenta with some form of chick peas on top. To make it saucy I mashed up about half of the peas and added lemon juice, wine, and cream. The greens gave it color and a good bite from the arugula. And it all took about 10 minutes. If you’re into meat then I would add some grilled chicken, possibly marinated in some garlic-rosemary-buttermilk.

For the chick pea extravaganza:

1 shallot, diced
2 T olive oil
1 15oz can chick peas, drained and rinsed
4 artichoke hearts, cut in half
1 handful spinach
1 handful arugula
1/4 c white wine
1/4 c lemon juice
3/4 c cream

Mash about half of the chick peas.

If you want this to be really smooth I would recommend blending them with the lemon juice. Heat the olive oil in a saucepan over med-high heat.

Saute shallots until translucent and add the chick peas.

Cook until hot, then add the wine and reduce a bit. Toss in the lemon juice and continue cooking until everything “comes together”; ie when it starts to look like a cohesive mass and not separate ingredients, about 3 minutes. Add the cream and artichoke hearts and let cook until thickened.

Turn off the heat and add the greens, mixing until it’s one dreamy mass of delicious.

For the polenta:
3/4 c dry polenta
2 cups hot water
1/2 c cream
1 head garlic
Salt to taste

Cut the top of the head of garlic off (a few millimeters worth, just to expose the meat inside), drizzle on some olive oil, and wrap in foil. Bake at 400 for 20 minutes.

Pop them out of their little sleeves, then mash with some salt and olive oil until it forms a paste.
Bring the water and cream to a boil in a medium sized pot. Reduce the heat to a simmer and slowly whisk in the polenta.

Simmer and stir constantly until it is thick and creamy, 3-5 minutes. You’ll know that it’s done when you look at it and say, “wow, I want to eat that right now.”

Stir in the garlic paste.

Dish up some grub and dive in.

NOM…NOM NOM!