Month: September 2024

  • Making Gumbo (assuming that you’ve made it before)

    So… I made gumbo over the weekend. It turned out good, but still not what I was aiming for.

    See, I have a friend who used to live in New Orleans, and he gave me his gumbo recipe a couple of years ago. Not that I do it often, but every now and then, maybe once a year if that, I will get in my head that I really need to eat gumbo. Just happens. Anyway, somewhere back in June, I knew I wanted gumbo when Fall rolls around. This past weekend it was a little rainy and cool, and that makes it soup season in my book.

    Now, over this past Summer, on our travels, I happened to come in contact with a couple of restaurants that had gumbo on the menu. Some of the gumbos were great, some were okay, but none of them were bad. What they all had in common was that they were more stew than soup, multiple proteins (chicken, sausage, shrimp, crawfish… take your pick) and the gumbo’s color was brown.

    When it came to making my friend’s recipe, I did notice one ingredient that stood out to me; a can of diced tomatoes. Not only were tomatoes in his gumbo, but you also added to juice from the can. To me that said this was the reason my gumbo was going to turn out orange. Unless, I took that roux down to a deep brown color.

    That was my plan. It was also my plan to take lots of pictures and put together an awesome food blog post. What I found out was that taking pictures while cooking was not my thing. As in, I just kept cooking and forgot to take pictures. BUT, I did get a couple when it came to making the roux. See:

    Though I didn’t get a final picture of it, I did get the roux down to a dark brown color without ruining it. But as I continued to make the gumbo, and added those tomatoes, what I ended up getting was an orange gumbo, and to be honest, one that tasted more tomato like than what I had over the Summer. That’s not to say the recipe is bad or wrong, because this recipe is solid and tasted good. It just wasn’t what I was aiming for.

    And here’s my thought; I’m just going to have to make gumbo again. Probably in a month, as my family isn’t as hip on testing out gumbo recipes as I am. When I do take another crack at it, I have to say no tomatoes, I want to add okra (I think that will help thicken it) and add shrimp as I only used chicken and sausage this time. I think my roux was fine, no need to mess with that.

    See you in October.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Gumbo, Cowboys, and Beer

    (I saw my problems, and I’ll see the light…)

    So, it doesn’t feel 100% like Autumn outside, but I’m not letting that stop me from cooking like it’s Fall. This is the season of baking, soups and stews. And I intend to go after my white whale, “Gumbo.” I have tried for a couple of years now to get it down, and even have one stellar recipe from a friend who used to live down in New Orleans. I have made gumbo with okra, with shrimp, crayfish, sausage, chicken, and everything else you can throw in. Yet, it still hasn’t come out the way I am looking for. The issue is me, I am the problem, and the real problem is that my roux never gets dark enough. I have got it down to sandy brown, an awful tan, maybe even khaki – all of them incorrect. No, I have to get my roux down to an intense chocolate color – dark brown. I have thought about this for awhile now, done research, and this is the weekend that I get my gumbo recipe down pat. I try to remember to take pictures.

    The Dallas Cowboys play on Sunday. This is the year. I have said that for twenty years, but this time I mean it. They will go 12-5, yet again. I will find a way to watch every game here in New York City, all the while I will get wall to wall coverage of the shitty Giants and somehow even shittier J-E-T-S. JETS! JETS! JETS!

    And I have bought beer, so I can sit on the couch all day on Sunday and watch football. I normally don’t do this, but something in my, most likely my beer belly, thought that I should do it. I have to agree.

  • Short Story Review: “The Narayans” by Akhil Sharma

    (The short story “The Narayans” by Akhil Sharma appeared in the August 26th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Sargam Gupta

    Gossipy neighbors; We all have them. They seem to live on the edges of most stories, novels, and sitcoms. Sometimes it’s not the neighbors, but the community as a whole that is a gossip. People will talk, and make conclusions, and jump to conclusions. It never works out well. And the neighbors do talk in Akhil Sharma’s “The Narayans,” but the clichés and tropes that usually develop and deftly avoided in this work.

    First of all, Akhil Sharma makes an ingenious choice with the narrative of this story, which sets an impactful tone. The narrator of this story is third person limited, and is also a member of the community from which the story takes place. (Maybe it’s first person limited…) It makes the narrative of the story feel as if it’s second hand, possibly unreliable. Any insight from this story comes from the narrator, and not from any of the other characters.

    The narrator tells us about the Narayan family, who live in an Indian immigrant community in Edison, New Jersey. Mr. Narayan is an unpleasant man, while his wife is overly generous. They have two children, an older son, Vikas, and a younger daughter, Madhu, whom Mr. Narayan is overly protective of. We also meet the neighbors, Dr. Shukla and her daughter, Nehali, who is the same age as Madhu, fourteen. Soon it is discovered that Madhu is pregnant, and at first the rumor is that Vikas is the father. Then the rumor is that Mr. Narayan is the father. Madhu is then sent to India, while Vikas is attacked at school by a pack of white girls. The community turns on the Narayans, wherein Mr. Narayan also returns to India, and receives what the narrator implies is his comeuppance. Then time goes by, and the community changes as a new wave of immigrants from India arrive. Soon notions and stigmas also begin to soften, and Mrs. Narayan is no longer judged in the same way. This leads to the climax of the story, and Madhu’s return to this community in New Jersey.

    This story was a kick to my gut. It completely created a sympathy in me for Madhu, and to be empathetic to her situation. But it also left me feeling conflicted with how the community reacted to this situation. How this community blamed, possibly correctly, one person, while ignoring the victims. The swift kick this story gave me had the effect of making me question my need to assign blame first, and not sympathize and help those that have been hurt. How that lack of sympathy and empathy can add to a person’s trauma.

    As with all stories that deeply affect me, I am having trouble putting my finger on all the aspects and details in this story that give it such a full breath, and life. But, that’s also the sign of a very good writer, and Sharma is that. And still I was left wondering if everything I was told, was in fact, true. That isn’t a knock against this story, just an acknowledgment that the theme and tone were spot on for this piece.

  • Melancholy Music Wednesday (Travis – Why Does It Always Rain On Me?)

    I bought this album just to have the song. The album was The Man Who by Travis, and the song is Why Does It Always Rain On Me? This also might have been the last time I bought an album just to have a song off of it. It was a wise choice. When I think about melancholy music that I love, I think of this song, and Talk Show Host by Radiohead.

  • Mom and Dad’s Wedding Anniversary

    Today would have been my parent’s 58th Wedding Anniversary. My Ma passed away five years ago, and as we close in on October, it will soon be six years. Normally, I rarely remembered my parents anniversary as it felt a little weird to me to celebrate their anniversary, but at the same time, I should celebrate their anniversary because without it, I wouldn’t be here. Point being that it was not foremost on my mind, and my Ma usually reminded me when it was coming up.

    Their 50th Wedding Anniversary was a big deal, for more than the obvious reasons. Me and my brothers, wives included, threw a big dinner for them. Friends and relatives came in to help celebrate, and me and my little family snuck in town, and surprised my parents. It was great time; great food, great drinks, great stories. It was great, and a wonderful celebration of two very wonderful people who were filled with love, and gave some much love back to the world.

    I had forgotten today was their anniversary. Just about two hours ago, when I looked at the calendar on my computer, did I see the reminder.

    I talked to my Dad yesterday, we had a great conversation, but it didn’t come up. I’m not prone to remember these things, and I wouldn’t expect my father to say anything.

    He still has his wedding ring on. When we were home last, I made a point to check to see if he still had it. Sure did. And why would he take it off.

    There are so many days that trigger memories of my mother. Today is one of them, clearly. But a couple of days ago, it was my eighteenth anniversary of moving from Texas to New York, and that is a date that I am very proud of. And as I thought about my move, I remembered my Ma hugging me and crying as I left for the airport. And at my niece’s wedding this Summer, couldn’t help but wonder how Ma would have reacted to seeing her granddaughter getting married.

    My family doesn’t talk too much about missing Ma. It’s very much understood that we all miss her, and that won’t ever go away. Where we are now is telling funny stories and fond memories when we all get together. Don’t get me wrong, we are all still working through our grief, as that will be a long process. But, talking about her isn’t painful anymore.