Another week went by at the mill. It was Monday night and Gus crashed, at the table. Literally. The sound of the kids talking, and the clinking of the utensils put her to sleep.
Boone woke her up and walked his mama to her bedroom and gently laid her down and let Clover take over from there.
Tuesday morning and as Gus walked to the supply room she noticed Jake was measuring and cutting something. Which supervisors normally didn’t do. They usually just supervised people who do measure and cut. Jake rarely put is “tools on”.
What was he cutting into? As Gus walked closer to Jake, she noticed a couple of sheets of foiled insultation and a new heat light. One you might use for outside of a house before you put the brick on it.
“Whatca’ building?”
“Good morning! I’m building a solar microwave oven. Cain’t ca tell?”
“Good morning. Oh yeah. I see it now.” Lied. What th’Hell?
“Mama’s making some shrimp Gumbo today. Yeah mama! And I want mine nice and hot tomorrow for lunch.” With a big smile.
“Me too.”
Laughing about her “me too”, he continued, “See the sun will keep’er hot all day and when noon break rolls ‘round I’ll have me some of SouthWest Louisiana’s best gumbo that ever touched your lips.”
“Tater salad too?”
“Oh yeah, only the best. Loads of celery.”
As she held the large sheet for him to cut, she asked, “How does she start her rue?” SHIT! WHY did I have to ask that?
Every region in the world has it’s debated dish. Gumbo is one of ours. Bar-B-Que is the other; all over the South.
But gumbo, might get shot over. People will stop talking to you over it. It is debated all over the South Louisiania and Southeast Texas. Nothing new here. Everyone makes it different, likes it different and believes their way is the right way.
“With fresh fried fish grease. Is there any other way?” Looking up at her seriously.
Oh Shit! She knew to tippy-toe right now. Making gumbo is a sacred ritual to most folks from Louisiana and Southeast Texas. Such a religious-like institution that Cajun folks have a spiritual name for the onions, celery, and bell pepper; The Holy Trinity. No kidding, that’s what the three ingredients are called in SE Texas and SW Louisiana, the Holy Trinity!
Regardless of who's cooking the gumbo, the Holy Trinity is required to complete the wonderful dish. And everyone’s mama does it the “right way.”
However, for the rest of the world, it’s only a recipe.
Shit, what the Hell…
“Yeah, my great aunt started hers out like that. Then she told mama to add a little bacon drippins’ to it. We use both.” Liar.
“Bacon hurts my stomach too much. You should try the fish grease alone sometimes.”
“Yep, it’s the only way to start a good gumbo.” Liar, liar. My pants were on firrre!
He wasn’t stupid. Jake knew she was going along with his recipe. Even gave her his approving wink and then looked down at his invention.
“This is gonna work grand-tomorrow for Ruby’s gumbo.”
“Looks like it’s coming together. Gotta get on over to Manny and see what he’s got going on this morning. You be careful with that the heat lamp.” She said smiling at him.
“Don’t wanna make you late.”
“Gonna blame it on th’ tall handsome boss-man from across the Sabine River; is what I’m gonna do.”
Then she walked as steady and straight to Manny as she could. He had their tools and was walking toward their project. She started walking beside him and the first thing outta of his mouth was,
“What’s Boss-man building?”
“A heating box for the gumbo he’s bringing to work tomorrow.”
Manny stopped and looked straight at her and asked,
“You didn’t tell him how to cook gumbo, did you?”
“Nooo, are you crazy? I know better. You do not tell a Cajun person how to cook gumbo. But I stuck my foot in my mouth and asked him how Ruby started her rue.”
Manny dropped his head down like someone just died and then peaked up and asked, “and?”
“And I totally regretted bringing up the subject. BUT I agreed with the way she starts hers and said it was the RIGHT way.”
Manny started walking again.
“Shoooe, that was close. Good girl! He’ll fire us all over a gumbo recipe.”
“Know better than to argue with anyone from Louisiana over how to cook gumbo. There’s thick, thin, spicey, mild, dark brown, light brown, green onions, no green onions, white, yellow onions, file gumbo, okrie or no okrie or bell peppers, red, yellow or green. But my aunt Mary made the best.”
“What was hers like?”
“It was good. That’s what the grown-ups told me.”
“What? Thought you said it was good.”
‘It smelled excellent. Oh yeah. Delicious, til she spooned out the rooster claw for my daddy to eat. I didn’t eat a bite after seeing that dammed claw.”
He laughed and gave her a gentle elbow as they walked to their project and said,
“I heard of that once before. Never saw it but had a friend who swore his grandmaw did that too. Old timers. They were so poor they ate everything in the yard.”
All Gus could do was smile about it. Cause he just described her family. They ate the whole hog, pickled the feet and everything else up to the ears.
Wednesday got there and the solar/microwave oven was working fine. Jake watched it as if it was the Holy Grail holding the Ten Commandments/gumbo. Guess in his mind it was the Holy Grail.
Lunch came and the gumbo was delicious. Everything he said it would be.
Dark-Hersey-brown-rue (like a thin gravy) but had the taste of black peppered-fish gravy with green onions, seafood taste of shrimp, crab claws and a few crab bodies that were full of tender blue crab meat.
Boss man made sure we all knew he caught the crabs under the Pleasure Island bridge on the Louisiana side, to be exact. Texas side never produces such nice crabs, in his opinion. Yeah, you need go right back across the Sabine. No, I’d never say that out loud, especially since he was my boss, friend and today lunch host.
We had brown rice cooked in a rice cooker, Tommy brought, to pour the gumbo over. He insisted on brown rice, healthier than white long grain I usually use. Manny’s wife sent an excellent potato salad. We put it in the bowl beside the gumbo. Least we do. Others might use it as a side dish alone. Never know. But when in Rome, do as the Romans do.
Toker’s new girlfriend made nice deviled eggs (another Southern creation) for a young woman. I’ll have to tell you later, how I cook devil eggs. Takes many cooks years to make deviled eggs like she made. I teased Toker, her mama made them. Swore he watched her from the couch. Many folks like to eat crackers with gumbo too. But if you have all that, you really don’t need crackers. Gumbo, Tator salad, deviled eggs and you’re done.
What’s funny to me is that all of the above foods were a poor man’s meal, once a long time ago. Poor folks used what they had on hand. How do you think crawfish got so popular. They can easily pick them out of the corners of a rice field. There was always crawfish to be dug out of the corners of a rice field. Crawfish like the rice fields too. Easy and cheap meals.
Before we know it, they’ll charge us $5.00 for a pound of coon meat and sweet potatoes at the county fair.
If you’re susceptible to heart burn, better have something there. Otherwise, you will be paying dearly for that long honor and revered meal.
The grease-made rue, the Tex-Joy Steak Seasoning (made in Beaumont, Texas) (or Tony’s) the black pepper, all the onions, white, yellow and green, bell pepper, other peppers of all kinds, sometimes sausage.
See, not all good Cajun food is made is New Orleans. Oh Lord, no. But maybe if you’re blessed, you’ll find yourself in the right small Louisiana town, near a slow-moving bayou, you also find a rooster claw and you’ll know you just had the best gumbo of your life.
Rest in Peace Aunt Mary.