That would be roux. MLB and I do it from scratch. The effort has always paid off; we’re extremely careful with the whole process; man, that stuff is hot, and trips to the ER would put a major damper on the festivities.

We prepare what for us is now a traditional Christmas Day meal: shrimp remoulade, and then andouille and chicken gumbo.

The remoulade was made last night; swirled together as always with the Braun “boat motor” style blender, tasted for seasoning, covered, and refrigerated overnight, the better for the flavors to mingle. The shrimp were boiled up with some good bottled shrimp boil, peeled, and left to chill overnight. The trinity¹ was chopped and ready last night as well.

So today, MLB and I browned the andouille, removed that from the cast iron pot we use once per year on Christmas, and then browned the chicken in the sausage drippings. Remove chicken. Heat remaining drippings with additional oil, then add the flour. Stir. Stir. Stir. Repeat stirring, until the roux is the color of a longneck Shiner bottle². When proper color has been achieved, dump in the previously chopped up trinity, stir it all up, to soften them, and kill the roux’ rapid cooking. A few grinds of black pepper, a little creole seasoning, and your magnificent gumbo base is ready.

From then on, the process is pretty prosiac. Add water, bring to a boil, add chicken back, add creole seasoning, hot sauce, bay leaf, etc. At some point, shred chicken, and add the sausage. The simmering process is an hour or more, enough time to get the rice fixed, and have a few more Shiner’s³

Being empty nesters, we’re forging our own set of memories in our emeritus years. And, we’re eating pretty well in the process, too.

Merry Christmas to all!

-k-

I love the Christmas season; by the church calendar, we’re still in Advent season, a time of preparation  for the Miracle of the Birth of our Lord. Advent has nothing to do with the singing of Silent Night, The First Noel, and  other Christmas carols. Some of the traditional Advent music is almost mournful; believers know how the tale of our Savior unfolds. But that’s not what this post is about.

I have no quarrel with much of the secular side of the season; I’m always tickled to get cards from friends and loved ones, and I can ooh and aah at seasonal lighting displays with the best of ‘em. And when the plates of cookies and candies are brought into the office, I’m up there with both feet in the trough.

There are, however, some customs which grate on me more and more as the years go by; I’ll cite them here, in the order I heard them again this year.

1. Every year, someone sees fit to compute the cost of all the gifts bestowed in the song The Twelve Days of Christmas. The twelve days comprise the 12 days after December 25, but that’s not the point. This year, the tab for those gifts was around $86K, as I recall. Who cares?
2. Next, is the advice on proper etiquette for the office Christmas party. You know, “Don’t grope Heidi from accounting.”, “Don’t dress like a streetwalker.”, “No mistletoe belt buckles.”, “Don’t assume the CEO’s wife is in the least attracted to you.”, and my favorite, “Don’t use office photocopier to take pictures of your ass.”
3. Maybe this one is unique to Northern Virginia, but the last one is “What to do with fruitcake?” This year, they ran fruitcakes through leaf chippers, compressed them with weights, and other nonsense. In years past, the hapless fruitcake has been shot from pumpkin chunkin’ devices, dropped from 20 story buildings, used as shuffleboard pucks, and other things that I fortunately can’t recall. There is excellent fruitcake, and lousy fruitcake, same as everything else. It’s not noteworthy, nor newsworthy, yet our local news radio has some stunt like this yearly.

So with that off my chest, I feel better. Until someone wishes me “Merry Christmanukkawanzaivus”, or whatever the hell it is. If you are so afraid of offending someone, stick with Happy Holidays! I know what I believe,and you’ll get a hearty Back atcha’ from me.

-k-

MLB and I aren’t ones to charge up a storm, in good times or bad, for a bunch of flashy Christmas gift doo-dahs. Instead, we spend on items for household improvements¹, charitable donations, and the like.

Nonetheless, there are little things that each of us likes, and we buy them as we see them. MLB is becoming a tea drinker of late, so she’s already received her cast iron tea kettle² Also,on order for her is a glass teapot, with an assortment of flowering teas³, from QVC. I’ve bought for myself the usual assortment of DVDs and CDs that I’ve been craving. MLB mentioned that we’d not bought anything substantial for Christmas for me; I replied that I need nothing, and in fact, have too much of everything. There is one item that I’ve fancied, notwithstanding that I need it like another foot. And pictured here, is my gift for this Yuletide; she helped me pick it out. I respect and solicit her advice in matters of such sartorial resplendence, my daily garb consisting of black chinos and black polo shirts. And so it is that we await the arrival of the Landry Stetson Fedora, from Felt Hats of Houston TX. Since I’m of the fathead persuasion in headgear, it’s hard for me to find a hat that really fits, and the choice of this little number culminates weeks of searching for the perfect lid. Not to mention the measuring and remeasuring of my bulbous melon, to get the just right fit.

Of course, it is in black, the better to match my daily garb. If it is everything I think it will be, you may expect a photo of me in all my mad hat glory to adorn this old blog in the near future.

And on Christmas day, we’ll make our shrimp remoulade and gumbo like we’ve always done, just being thankful for each other’s company, and our love for each other.

-k-