Gumbo

Gumbo is perhaps the most celebrated (and delicious) dish of Cajun/Creole cuisine. Combining elements of French, African, Spanish, German, and Native American cooking, nothing else captures the essence of South Louisiana like this famous dish.

The thing to remember about gumbo is that it is, at heart, a rustic, economical dish. Like other dishes created by early lower class Cajun settlers, the cooks of early South Louisiana managed to make a delicious meal out of the cheapest of ingredients.

In that spirit, a contemporary favorite of South Louisiana is to make a turkey/sausage gumbo out of Thanksgiving leftovers. For this dish, I did just that. 

First, we make the stock. I began with two turkey carcasses (one was fried, the other roasted), a carrot (adds a nice touch of sweetness), some leeks and celery that were getting old in my fridge, a head and a half of garlic, an onion, and a shallot. Note that this is not "standard" for your stock; you can play around with it. The point is that I just used what I had; it's better than throwing the stuff away.

Throw the carcasses in the pot, roughly chop everything else, and throw it on top of the carcasses. Throw in a few bay leaves, salt, and pepper.

Next, you want to cover with cold water. Don't use hot; all the impurities in the stock will dissolve in the hot water. By using cool water and slowly bringing the stock to a simmer, all the impurities will rise to the top, making it easy for you to scoop them off.

Simmer for a few hours. You want to get as much of that great flavor from those carcasses as you can. All the other flavors will slowly blend in, creating a nice rich stock.

Strain the stock, toss all the solids away and put the stock back in a pot (you can leave it aside for now).



Next, we're going to use the Cajun Trinity. If you have read my jambalaya post, you know what the Cajun Trinity is: onions, bell peppers, and celery. In addition to the Trinity, I added a couple of jalapenos and garlic cloves.

Dice those up and put them all in one container. Set aside for now, but keep it within reach.

Next, we move on to the most important part of the gumbo: the roux. Making a good roux is not particularly difficult, but you need to make sure not to mess up either. If you burn your roux, you cannot use it. It will ruin your gumbo. Do not think that you can cover it up or get away with it; you will ruin your gumbo if you use a burnt roux.


The good thing is that it is easy not to burn your roux if you are patient. If you are they type of person to whom patience does not come naturally, there is an easy solution:

Now the first thing we do is heat up some oil in a pot. The best oil for this is peanut oil, as it has a high smoke point (the temperature at which the oil will begin to break down and not taste good). Oils with a low smoke point (such as butter or olive oil) will ruin much faster, so I do not recommend those. Canola oil and vegetable oil are also fine for making a roux.

So anyone, I heated up about 1.5 cups of peanut oil in my pot

Next, you add equal parts flour to the hot oil. 

As soon as you add the flour, your roux is going to be pasty, white, and thick. What we're going to do is cook the roux over medium high heat over the course of about 20-30 minutes and watch as the roux slowly transforms into a chalky mixture into something that has tons of flavor and will set the tone for your entire gumbo. As they say, "it's all in the roux."

I prefer to use a cast iron pot with a slotted wooden spatula, but you can use pretty much anything you want. Some people use a whisk, some a long wooden spoon. Whatever gets the job done. They key, though, is NEVER STOP STIRRING. If you stop stirring, you will burn your roux. You need to stand over your roux and stir constantly until you are ready to throw in your vegetables. Watch out, though, because roux is HOT HOT HOT. And not only is it hot, but it sticks to your skin and gives you a nasty burn. They don't call it "Cajun Napalm" for nothing.


So what we do is constantly stir this stuff until it turns the color of a Hershey bar. We don't want it to turn black, because then it's burnt. Then, we throw in the vegetables, which stops the cooking immediately (which is necessary). In other words, we bring this thing right to the edge of the point of no return, and then we stop the cooking by throwing in the vegetables.

 
Stir, stir, stir...
                         


Keep stirring....
                         

 Starting to change colors now...

Now that's starting to look good...

Almost there...

And BAM! Throw in that Cajun Trinity. This moment is perhaps my favorite moment in all of cooking. It's about the best smell you've ever smelled, and the intense sizzle of the vegetables is music to my ears.

While that's cooking, let's prepare the sausage. I usually use a link or two of smoked sausage and a link or two of andouille (a type of Cajun sausage). Don't worry too much if you cannot find andouille; it's a nice addition, but I realize it's not available everywhere (but definitely use it if you can get it).

For this, I used two links of andouille and one link of smoked deer sausage.

Chop it up. I like them to be about half an inch thick.

Now, your vegetables should be almost done cooking in the roux. You want them to be close to translucent.

Now, remember that stock we made? Heat it up. We are going to add the hot roux/veggies to the stock, and if there is a big temperature difference between the two, the roux will separate, which is a big pain.

So, once your stock is hot, use a big spoon to scoop in the roux/veggies mixture.

Next, add the sausage, and cook this in low for a while. A couple of hours should be good.

Mmmm, looking great.

Getting hungry? This will make your whole house smell wonderful.

Once this has been going for a while, it's time to make your rice. Making rice is really easy, yet people seem to find ever new and creative ways to screw it up. All you need to know is this: 1 part rice/1.5 part water. Bring to boil, then simmer for 15 minutes.

I also like to add a few bay leaves and a little butter.

When it's done, it should look just like this.

Next, I threw in all my leftover turkey meat. I didn't want the meat in the gumbo the whole time, since it was already cooked and would dry out. Just let that cook down for a few minutes.

 Now your gumbo is ready. Just take a look at that. Oh my.

To serve: put some rice in a bowl and ladle your gumbo over it. This gumbo was so good I did not add a single spice or drop of hot sauce to it. The flavor was simply outstanding.

If you have some, I really recommend chopping putting some diced green onions on top; it really adds a nice *something* to your dish, but I did not have any this time.

Finally, enjoy!

First post....and Jambalaya

OK, before I get started, let me just say how hard it was thinking up a good name for this thing. Every time I thought I had something clever (Eater’s Digest, Garden of Eatin’, Let Them Eat Steak, etc…), a quick google search revealed that I am not as original or clever as maybe I’d like to believe. It got to the point to where I just wanted something so that I could start writing, so this is where I’m at: Meal Talk. Kind of like Real Talk, but for Meals. Or something.

So anyway, the way I’m envisioning this is that I shall upload my experiences with various meals that I’ve had, usually ones that I have prepared. It will probably be photo heavy, which will probably be helpful to anyone wishing to re-create what I made. My goal for this site is to combine two things I love to do (cooking and writing) and interact with other people doing the same thing so that I may get (and hopefully give) new ideas to/from others. So here it goes, let’s start this thing off with one of the few things I know I cook well: jambalaya.

First, a little about the dish. From what I understand, the origin of the word itself is someone hazy. Some people think it derives from the word “jambalaia” in a French dialect, which means “mish mash.” Others think it’s a combination of the Spanish “jambon” and “paella,” the popular Spanish rice dish. Whatever the case, the dish, like most every Louisiana dish, is influenced by a combination of cultures present in Louisiana. It started with the Spanish in New Orleans trying to re-create the paella they were used to eating back home, but many of the necessary spices were not present in South Louisiana (I’m guessing this was pre-Rouse’s). The dish is indeed somewhat similar to paella, but it is oh so different. The inclusion of the Cajun Trinity, andouille sausage, and cajun spices separates this dish from anything else.

The jambalaya I made in this example is a pork and sausage one, but there are many different versions. Some people do chicken and sausage, some people add shrimp, some add tomatoes, some don’t, etc… There really is no one right way to do it, and the dish typically varies across regions in South Louisiana. In New Orleans, it is popular to add tomatoes and/or tomato paste to the jambalaya, giving it a red tint. This is called “Creole, African, or Red” jambalaya. In Cajun country outside of New Orleans (in Acadiana, down the bayou, etc…) a “Cajun style” jambalaya is more popular. This kind does typically use tomatoes or anything derived from tomatoes. It’s a more rustic version, often made in a cast iron pot, and when done correctly has a nice brown color.

The jambalaya I made is a Cajun pork and sausage gumbo. 

The first thing you gotta do is make your stock. Chicken stock is popular, but pork stock adds great flavor as well. To make the pork stock, I took the pork necks, rubbed them in salt and pepper, tossed them in a tiny bit of canola oil, and put them on my cast iron skillet. I laid a few fresh thyme sprigs on top. I roasted those for about an hour or so at 450. It came out looking like this. 

Then, I separated the meat from the bone

There was actually more meat, but I couldn’t stop myself from popping that stuff in my mouth. I’m only human.

Then I took the bones, threw it in a large pot along with an onion chopped in half, a few celery stalks broke in half, some carrots, thyme, salt/pepper, and a head of garlic chopped in half. I also deglazed the cast iron skillet with a bit of red wine (I was drinking some already, so why not) and threw all those drippings in the pot too. Then I covered with cold water and let it simmer for a few hours.

While that’s going on, you gotta make what those of us from South Louisiana call the “Cajun Trinity.” As a heavily Catholic area, the people are very familiar with the Holy Triny: the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In Cajun cooking, however, the Trinity is something very different but almost as important: Onion, Bell Pepper, and Celery. You simply do not make a Cajun dish without the Trinity. I also like to add garlic and maybe a jalapeno to it. Then I season it with some Cajun seasoning (basically red pepper, white pepper, black pepper, salt, paprika, maybe chili). Toss that up real good.

I then put a lid on the container and let it sit in the fridge for a bit. I feel like it lets all the flavors mix and whatnot. Maybe it doesn’t do anything, but I like to think it does.

Anyway, after your stock is done, take your cast iron pot and your uncooked chopped pork. Heat up some oil hot hot hot in the cast iron pot and throw in the uncoooked pork. DONT STIR IT AROUND. You want to get the pork to stick to the pot. That sticky stuff (commonly called gree mee) is important, as it’s going to eventually dictate the color of your jambalaya. If you don’t do this part right, you’re not going to get that beautiful brown color at the end (and yes, that’s a bone on the top. I just cooked it a bit so that I could give it to my dog)

Once you’re sure that the pork is stuck to the pan, flip the pork over and do the same thing again. You want to really get the porks good and crusty, as well as create as much of that gree mee as possible. Once you’re done with that, throw in a big ladle full of pork stock to deglaze.

Let that stuff just cook there until all the pork stock evaporates. In French, this is called au sec, which means “until dry.” Once that’s done, remove the pork cubes and throw in your chopped andouille (it’s a type of cajun sausage…you can use any “normal” smoked sausage if you don’t have access to andouille). I like to cut them in both moons and moons; no real reason, just a personal preference. Anyway, do to it the exact same thing you did to the porks. After you’re done with that and got a lot of gree mee, add in your Trinity and cook real good. 

After it’s all soft, throw in a bit more pork stock and let that cook down a bit.Then throw in your rice. I think this was about 3 cups. Let that cook for a few minutes.

Then add your pork stock. You want about a 1.5:1 ratio of pork stock to rice, maybe even a little less, depending on how watery your mixture already is.

Then, bring it to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cover. DO NOT STIR. Put a lid on the pot and let it cook like that for at LEAST 10, maybe 15 minutes. When you DO take the lid off, you need to TURN, NOT STIR, the rice.

You don’t want to break up the grains. After you turn, put the lid back on and cook for another 20 minutes or so. You may turn it one or two more times, but resist the temptation to do it too much.

After about 45 minutes, your rice should “pop out” and look like this:

So there we go. Anyone reading this should be able to cook a wonderful, authentic jambalaya. I hope this is helpful and let me know if you have any questions.