"Who’s Your Mama….?

.....Are You Catholic and Can You Make A Roux?" That’s what greeted me every time Fred opened his front door. All brazen as can be. Daring me, my Yankee self, to try my hand at roux.

Not that lovely French roux of unsweetened butter and flour cooked to a shiny off white paste. No. This was a mix of plain old vegetable oil (and/or bacon fat or grease) mixed with equal parts plain flour and slowly cooked (seemingly for hours) until it turned almost the deep color of reddish brown mahogany. 

I put off that challenge as long as I could until one day---years later---I screwed up my courage and made a gumbo which of course, has to start with that roux.

Here’s Gumbo y’all…my way