This morning my friend, who's a Gulf Coast southerner by birth and by palate both, told us that her daughter-in-law has decided to learn how to make gumbo. My friend greeted this with mixed emotions as in "YAY! Now I won't have to make this for family gatherings" and also as in "BOO! Now I can't make this for family gatherings."
The gumbo sampling happened last night and the gumbo (apparently) was more like chicken soup with sausage in it, so my friend greeted this with mixed emotions as in "YAY! I'm still the family gumbo-maker" and "BOO! I'm still the family gumbo-maker."
I liked this story because it made me go, "YAY! Human beings are so complicated" and also "BOO! Human beings are so complicated."
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1 comment:
the gumbo moment.....let me ruminate on that for awhile. Yankees don't stir the roux.
Problem solved. Stir the roux until your southern hide is tired.
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