Sunday column: Gumbo and Ninja Turtles

Here's Nick in 2006 at my house in downtown Lafayette (corner of Lamar and Jefferson streets) chopping sausage for gumbo. That was back before we were married and he was trying to impress me with his culinary skills. It worked.

Now here's some hardcore Ninja Turtles fans (at MGM Studios in 1993). I couldn't find a picture of the Halloween costumes, but you get the idea.

We got our first sample of gumbo weather this week.
Didn’t you notice the high was below 80 for one or two days? That’s gumbo weather, all right.
The best part about those precious few days late in the week wasn’t even the “low” temperatures; it was the low humidity. I stepped outside on Wednesday and Thursday and could take a full, deep breath of fresh air without that sticky, humid aftertaste.
Ah, fall in Louisiana.
While other states are drinking in the beauty of fall colors and running TV commercials about their foliage tours, we here in Louisiana are relishing a few mild days.
At least we have gumbo.
Now, there are some hardcore gumbo fans who will cook and eat that delectable stew year-round, not matter how hot it is outside. But most of us enjoy a steaming bowl of gumbo when that summer heat begins to give way to fall’s ever-so-slight chill.
The first day of fall, by the way, was two weeks ago. Don’t feel bad if you didn’t notice. The high that day (Sept. 22) was 88. Not quite jacket weather.
Every year, I have to remind myself that it stays hot at least until Halloween. I start getting all excited once the calendar turns to October and the stores start setting up their Christmas displays. Then as the hot days continue, I begin to lose hope of fall’s cool, sweet relief.
I just try to remember we have to get through Halloween, and then it will be consistently cooler. So, moms and dads, please don’t torture your children by getting them all dolled up in those oh-so-adorable yet suffocatingly hot fleece costumes intended for trick-or-treaters in Canada or some other northern locale.
I can attest to how quickly a bad costume can spoil a Halloween, no matter how good the haul at the end of the night. The year my brother and sisters and I dressed up as Ninja Turtles in felt costumes handmade and stuffed with Polyfil by my mom comes to mind. And this was in south Louisiana, too, which is always a little warmer and more humid.
But, we did make a great-looking group, despite the beads of sweat trickling down our faces. Good work, Mom.
Once the weather crosses that threshold and those first leaves begin to turn, my gumbo
craving sets in.
There are as many ways to make gumbo as there are cooks in Louisiana, and we all have our particular gumbo-eating habits.
For example, I have to eat my gumbo with a gumbo spoon (known to some people as a soup spoon). No teaspoon or even tablespoon is up for the job when I sit down to dig into a hot bowl of gumbo.
My husband, and many other south Louisiana natives, can’t eat gumbo without a side of potato salad — mustard potato salad, served up cold and plopped directly into the bowl of gumbo.
Don’t ask me the origin of this particular method. I don’t understand it; it’s just something I have to accept.
Then there’s the issue of the roux. I’m no roux snob, but there are those who are. Growing up, Mom always used prepared roux for her gumbo and I liked it just fine. Others, however, insist upon making the roux from scratch, which I also like just fine. My only complaint about homemade roux is its distinctive odor that inevitably lingers in the house for days after the gumbo is made.
Okra, or no okra? And if you go with okra, when to add it? The trick is to mix it in late enough so it doesn’t become slimy when it’s time to eat.
The age-old gumbo quandary is chicken and sausage vs. seafood. I’ll take a bowl of each, please. Both types of savory stews satisfy my hunger for something warm and filling.
There is an endless variety of gumbo accoutrements, the most popular of which include file seasoning, French bread, the aforementioned potato salad and, of course, the rice.
Gumbo is the rare time when I indulge in white rice. In my constant attempt to be healthy and eat right, I made the switch to brown rice years ago. But, it just doesn’t taste right with gumbo. As with most delicious food, if it tastes good it probably isn’t terribly good for you.
I guess it’s a good thing, then, that gumbo weather doesn’t last long in Louisiana. But when it’s here, I plan to savor every last one of those chilly days and warm bites of gumbo.