Down in New Orleans, everyone
claims to have a gumbo recipe
that's "the best ever." Well, I've
got mine, too. Here it is. I
learned the technique for making
this gumbo twenty-five years ago,
while working at K-Paul's in the
French Quarter. The addition of the
ham hock is something I came up
with when we opened Town Hall. It
adds body, richness, and a slightly
smoky flavor. (If you can't find a
ham hock, just double the amount of
andouille sausage.) Making gumbo is
an example of what I call a
long-term relationship recipe. Not
only do you have to find your way
with it over time, but, let's face
it, making gumbo takes a while. So
think of this dish as an
opportunity to cook for a group of
your friends and get everyone
involved. Simply put, gumbo is the
perfect party dish. If you are on
your own, gumbo, like most soups
and stews, matures with time, so
preparing it early in the morning
or even a day in advance will only
make it better. A good gumbo
demands a good roux, and making a
good roux is an art. First, it
helps to have the right tools. For
the amount of roux this recipe
requires, you need a cast-iron pan
8 to 10 inches in diameter. That's
the perfect size for the amount of
flour and oil you are going to use.
Also, let's be honest here: When
you make a roux, you need to be
careful. If it gets on your skin,
it is going to burn. They don't
call it Cajun napalm for nothing.
