Moms Gumbo
“There ain’t no recipe for Gumbo son, just suggestions.” – Mom
What you are reading isn’t a “recipe”. It’s more of a story about my Mom and what NOT to do when making Gumbo than anything. If you want to call it a “recipe” then I’m fine with that. Mom on the other hand would just laugh at you…
What you will read is the best I can recall. I’ve been working on this for a while now. You know how it is. Now and then you just seem to remember hearing your parents say something or other. Or perhaps you recall a flash of something and can “see” the past. Well… at least I can. Guess I’m lucky.
Mom didn’t make her Gumbo very often. Say maybe couple times a month at best. A little more during the winter. When she did, it was a multiple day process. She didn’t like no ‘racket’ in the kitchen. I could sit there and watch or get up to the stove and look, but if I started asking too many questions she’d tell me to go outside and play. If I was really getting to her she would just look at me, holding that old wooden spoon and say, “Go”!
We had this old step-stool, all metal, which had two steps that pulled out to make it stable. It was under the phone on the wall in the kitchen and it’s where I would sit to watch Mom cook. I’m guessing I was in the second grade when I started to wonder about ‘how to cook’. It’s been almost 50 years and I’m still learning how to cook from Mom.
“When you ‘mess it up’, just throw it out. Don’t try to fix it.” – Mom
I have thrown away a good bit of “supposed to have been” Gumbo in my years. The reasons varied from trying to use cheap stuff to “not watching it” to adding too much of this and that. If it was too “thin” I tried to add flour after everything was in the pot. Don’t ever do that. Too thick and I tried adding water or wine. Terrible. Don’t try it. Too spicy, well like Mom said, just throw it out.
“There’s two kinds of Gumbo. Chicken and Sausage or Seafood. Don’t be mixing them together.” – Mom
Mom didn’t have too many rules but this was one of them and you didn’t mess with it. There are I find, a good number of Louisiana cooks who feel the same way. One or the other or you could cook both individually but you didn’t EVER mix the two. I pass this hint along for your consideration.
A “batch” of Mom’s Chicken and Sausage Gumbo consisted of a good size ”hen” and about two or three pounds of real Andouille sausage. There were many places to get it back then. Most butcher shops around town made it during the week and sold it on the weekend. If you didn’t get any, you had to wait another week or so for it to be made. Andouille sausage is spicy. It’s history is French and thus when the Cajuns came (French people who got run out of Acadia in Canada and ended up in New Orleans.) they brought along the process when they moved.
“I don’t care what they say, it ain’t Gumbo if you don’t use Andouille sausage.” – Mom
Making Andouille wasn’t pretty. It involved almost all of the intestinal tract of a hog, pork butt, fat, cracked pepper, salt and whatever ”spices” the maker put into their version. It was generally considered that it had to be smoked over pecan wood and dried sugar cane stalks. I recall going to “the meat market” with Mom and Dad around lunch time and not leaving till way after midnight. Turns out that making sausage was a good excuse for a party. But I digress.
Mom had two or three big cast iron pots. I wish I kept one, but when she passed away we gave them to some family friends. Just as well I guess. She would make two or three “batches” of Gumbo, one by one. There was always somebody stopping by the house and they generally left with some gumbo. Often they carried it out in a sauce pan with tin foil over the top. Days later I would often find the sauce pan on the back porch when I got home from school.
“You boil eggs in water, but that’s about it. A good stock is what you cook with.” – Mom
The process started with making Chicken stock. Lots of it. Mom used this big, tall pot. Get yourself one at a local cooking supply house. She’d put in a couple of white onions, bout baseball size. I sometimes helped peel them at the sink and cut them into “quarters”. Next would be two or three ribs of celery and all the “grass” from the celery. (More about Celery later!) She would put in a whole seeded bell pepper cut into chunks and finally a head of garlic. For the stock she would not peel the garlic. It was just rubbed back and forth in her hands till most of the skin came off. Then she would mash each clove between her fingers till it ‘popped’ and into the pot it went.
Next the hen was cleaned up. She saved the liver, heart, gizzard and neck for later. Mom said she didn’t like no “fatty Gumbo”. She would work on the hen in the sink, cutting away amost all the yellow fat. Cutting off the tail. I would watch her work her fingers between the skin and trim it off, piece by piece. There was still some skin attached along the backbone and on the legs and wings, but most of the rest was cut off and then the whole hen was put in the stock pot. She then covered it and the vegetables with water and turned the burner on high. Then she would sit down at the kitchen table with a Paps Blue Ribbon and play Solitaire for a while. Couple of games. After a good boil, she cut the heat back and then she would go sit on her bed and watch “As the World Whirls” as Dad called it. Now and then she would check on the stock.
“You cook it till it’s done.” – Mom
I encourage you to make your own stock. I pretty much use the same stuff and amounts as listed above. It’s time consuming, but I like the resulting Gumbo taste so I guess it’s worth it.
Bring the stock to a boil and turn it back to a stiff simmer for a couple of hours. You can add some pepper if you want, but don’t salt it. You can always add salt to the Gumbo you will be cooking. Carefully fish the hen out and put it on a big cutting board to cool. I use a pair of tongs to hold the hen and cut the leg/thigh off each side. Then I cut the wings off the breast. Then, holding the chicken with the tongs, I turn it on head end and slice the backbone off the ribs. If it’s cooked well and you have a sharp knife it slices right off. Now adays everyone has kitchen shears. They work too. Save it. Now cut the wings into three pieces at the joints. Next cut the legs from the thighs. Finally, slice the two breast pieces in half.
The stock is still cooking by the way and by now, the chicken is cool enough to handle. Get a big bowl and start with the wing pieces. Squeeze em’ between your fingers and toss the good meat in one bowl and the other stuff in the “trash bowl”. Do the legs and thighs and finally the breast pieces. Now in your “trash bowl” you will have lots of chicken pieces and some good bones. Don’t throw it away!
Mom had this old grinder, hand crank kind and she would leave the die off the grinder and just mash the bones (including the back) and everything into the grinder. It broke up all the bones and landed in a bowl. She then took this mess and dumped it right back into the stock pot. I use a pair of kitchen shears to cut-up what I can. I crack the leg/thigh bones with some kitchen pliers I keep handy.
“Gumbo is simple. Too many people try to change it and it ain’t worth eating.” – Mom
I’m not going to tell you that I haven’t used store-bought stock to make Gumbo. It is faster, but you miss out on lots of “goodness” as Mom called it. If you use store bought stock get at least a gallon of plain Chicken (low salt) and another quart of vegetable stock. I have screwed up more Gumbo by making it too salty than you can imagine.
After Mom’s stock was done, she would use a big glass measuring cup to take the stock, bones and everything out of the pot. She would pour it through a big strainer into another sauce pan. And then another, and another. Once her stock was strained she threw the bones and other stuff away.
Often the stock would go into the fridge since making stock was kinda “day one” for the Gumbo. I would come into the kitchen in the morning and she would already be up. She would have a big tablespoon and would be “skimming” any cold fat off the stock. This meant that there would be Gumbo in the evening!
“Tell Daddy to go get some sausage. And get me some beer too.” – Mom
As years passed, Mom switched to Schlitz. Not sure why and I didn’t ask. Anyway, Dad and I would drive to the store on the south-side. To get there we had to go under the railroad tracks. We always seemed to stop at the light. When it changed, Dad would say, “Clear on the left.” and I would then say, “Clear on the right.” He would kinda gun-it as we went under the railroad overpass.
Mom and Dad had a “book” at the store. He and I would walk to the back where the butcher was. He seemed to know Dad really well and would always cut me off a piece of black-rind cheese. Dad called Mom, “The Wife” and would say something to the butcher and then we would wait around while he went in the back. I didn’t care, the cheese was good. He would get this big white butcher paper package with some black crayon writing on it and hand it to me. Next we stopped by an old Coke ice chest and he’d open it and get out six beers and put them in a brown sack. Sometimes we gave the guy money and sometimes Dad would say, “Book it.” and home we went.
“When your Roux gets the color of a sack, it will be done in a little while.” – Mom
There were always brown paper sacks around the house. Mom put sacks under pans on top of the washing machine which was right beside the stove. Used spoons would rest on sacks during cooking. You get it I guess. I think more people have no idea what a Roux is than do. You see show after cooking show where they put a tablespoon of flour into a little pan drippings and call it a Roux. How sad. Your Roux is the most important part of Gumbo. If it’s not good then nothing else will be either.
Today, some people make a Roux in non-stick pans. I’ve tried it too and sometimes it works fine. However, Mom made her Roux in that cast iron pot I told you about. She used bacon drippings. Whatever she had in “The Can” which sat on the stove always and some thick bacon pieces she would fry up. Mom fried a bunch of bacon. After she added “The Can” grease there was a good 1/2 inch or so of grease. She got the pan hot, but not smoking. Mom would put a little water on her hand and let a few drops hit the grease. When it crackled she got the flour can dumped an unknown amount into the grease and started to stir with that wooden spoon.
She would stir and scrape, not too fast. It took a while. I remember one morning I made me some chocolate milk and went and watched “Woody Woodpecker”. When I took my glass back in the kitchen she was still stirring. My Roux takes about 30 to 40 minutes. I use an old 10″ cast-iron skillet that was Mom’s. Some people can make a Roux faster… good for them.
“You ain’t just cooking for yourself. If other people don’t like it, then it ain’t no good.” – Mom
Ok, here’s how I start my Roux. I use about 8 or 10 tablespoons of cold bacon drippings. You can always add more grease but never try to add more flour once you start. The flour has to cook evenly. Heat the grease till it’s good and hot, but not smoking. If you look at the surface it kinda “shimmers”. If you see any small bacon pieces in the grease, get them out before you start. They can cause the flour to lump and burn. Once you have ANY burned flour in your Roux you gotta throw it out, clean your pan and start over.
Once hot, I add a heaping cup of plain flour and stir it in with a good old wooden spoon. I like to keep the heat around 6 give or take, if you have numbers. I find that if the handle of the cast iron pan is just a little too hot to keep your hand on then the heat is about right. You are not looking for flour mush. You are looking for a kind of flour “stew”. If it’s too thick, add one tablespoon more grease and keep stirring and checking. This ain’t no race. Just keep it moving. A thickness of something like Karo syrup is about what you are looking for. In about 10 minutes or so you will notice the color starting to darken. Don’t leave the stove . Don’t stop stirring. Your Roux can go from “getting good” to “oh shit” before you know it.
Today people talk about a peanut butter color. I look for a darker Roux. More like milk chocolate. Getting this color takes practice. Don’t be upset if you have to throw it out and start over. Once you get close to your color, move the pan off the burner and continue to stir as it starts to cool. When your pan handle is cool enough to hold you can safely leave your Roux.
“Make it as simple as you can. Simpler is better. Too much of something will ruin it.” – Mom
A good Gumbo is really simple. You don’t need to be adding a bunch of extra crap. Just let the “goodness” of the basic stuff come out. Here are some ideas to build around.
A basic “batch” of Gumbo -
4, 3, 2 – Four or so ribs of celery. Three good sized onions and 2 good sized bell peppers. This will be your Holy Trinity as it is called. This is just a place to start. By the way. “String” your celery. Mom said it makes it better.
Garlic – I use a whole head of garlic in my “basic” gumbo. Mom did. I do. You should too. See if you like it. If not, there is always a nother pot.
Bay leaf – I use three good size dried bay leafs. Four if they are small.
Chicken Stock – I end up using about 15 to 18 cups of stock. It depends on your Roux really. The darker your Roux, the more flavor it has but the LESS thickening it has and thus the less stock you end up using.
Tobasco brand sauce – A few drops, here and there during the cooking. Don’t use anything else.
Spices – About 4 or 5 tablespoons of either mixture- Here’s another place where things can get tricky.
Mom didn’t use prepared spices. This is what I know she used. The amounts I show are based on my playing around with different batches. This AIN’T what you put in the Gumbo! Mix all this together and use 4 or 5 tablespoons of this mixture.
Paprika 7 or 8 tablespoons,
Cumin (fresh ground) 3 tablespoons,
Cayenne pepper 1 tablespoon,
red pepper flakes 1/2 tablespoon,
Rosmary 1 tablespoon dry,
Thyme 2 tablespoons dry,
Salt, Pepper to taste toward the END of cooking.
If you are just starting out, try using Tony Chachere’s. It’s a green container. It is kinda salty so don’t go adding any extra salt till you are sure.
“You don’t really enjoy eating till you learn to enjoy cooking.” – Mom
Ok, so here is the basic idea behind putting a gumbo together. This works for me, it’s how I remember Mom doing it and seems to come out pretty good.
You’ve got a good size, cast-iron pot on the stove and have made your Roux. Your Roux is a little warm and at least a dark paper sack color. Hopefully it’s darker. You have lots of hopefully home-made chicken stock ready. It doesn’t have to be hot. Your “picked chicken” is in the fridge. Your sausage is cut in half and then into small bite-size pieces. Your spice mixture is ready to use. It’s now time to prepare the garlic and the Holy Trinity.
Peel a whole head of garlic. I chop the garlic in pieces about the size of pepper corns. Some people mash it. I don’t. Put the garlic in a small bowl. Next, “string” 4 or 5 ribs of celery and cut them into small, bite-size pieces. Next, clean and halve 3 good size onions. With a half onion flat cut it up by making 3 cuts the long way and 4 cuts the short side. Do this with each onion half. Finally, clean 2 large bell peppers and cut-out the whiteish seams inside. Cut the peppers into strips and cut the strips into small bite-size pieces.
“The secret to good Gumbo is to add just the right amount of spices.” – Mom
Start warming up your Roux. You aren’t trying to cook it so keep the heat kinda low till it starts to “flow”. Now it’s ready.
Add your Trinity to the Roux and get everything coated. Your mixture will likely seem sort of dry. Don’t worry. First of all, you are going to add stock in a little bit and second your vegetables will start to sweat and release moisture. Remember, the heat is LOW right now. Stir now and then and sweat the mixture for about 10 minutes or so.
Now add some stock. Start with about 8 cups. Turn the heat up to about medium or medium high. Drop in your bay leafs, about 2 tablespoons of your spice mixture and all your garlic. Stir well, mixing the somewhat dried Roux with the stock. Keep stirring now and then as it comes to a slow boil. You won’t really know how thick your Gumbo will be until it comes to a boil. If it coats a spoon pretty thick then you are good.
Now add your sausage and stir well. Get it good and mixed. Your Gumbo might be even thicker now. That’s ok. The sausage will release some juice and you can always add more stock.
“Cooking is a matter of “sneaking-up” on the right taste.” – Mom
Things are starting to come together. Now you knock the heat down to a LOW simmer. Until things “juice up” you don’t want to risk too much heat to burn the buttom.
You have some spices left to add, but that is done on a taste and test basis after the Gumbo cooks for about an hour or two. You can always add more spice but you can’t ever add less.
Well, that is it. The rest is up to you. I can’t give you any more help. If you want to enjoy good gumbo then you have to make a lot of it. Have fun, enjoy life. Be happy while you are living for you are a long time dead.
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