Gumbo Season(ing)

(Way, way overdue post)

As readers of this space know, we often turn to The Wiccan Cookbook on cardinal and cross-quarter dates, and so it was on our most recent vernal equinox, now almost a full season behind us. Authors Jamie Wood and Tara Seefeldt include gumbo as an option, explaining that since fish come from eggs, any fish dish is a good vernal celebration.

That was as good a reason as any for me to undertake gumbo, a dish I have probably had a half-dozen times but which I could not define with any clarity. All I know is from my weak understanding of Professor Hank Williams, to wit:



I had no idea how to spell file or what it meant. (Like, Mexican mole, though, it is spelled like a completely unrelated English word and pronounced differently; sometimes it is spelled filé, but it is not pronounced that way either.) From the cookbook I discerned it was some kind of spice, perhaps even an important one. I tried three grocery stores without finding it, and bravely assumed I could substitute some other spice for it.

I eventually realised that it is made from sassafras, and that there is no substitute (according to the Internet, which usually yields abundant suggestions for such things).  Okra can be used instead, but that results in a different kind of gumbo; it is not a substitution in the usual sense.

The main ingredients are seafood, though, and the "first do no harm" rule of Maryland cooking suggests that Old Bay would be a safe bet.

So I proceeded accordingly. First, I made slow rice, which the authors insist is important. I put 2 cups of rice in 4 cups of water with a little olive oil and left it covered in the oven. I think I had it there for 90 minutes or so at about 325F. The authors suggest two hours, but do not specify a temperature.

I then made a roux in a skillet, warming olive oil and mixing in a little flour. I stirred it until it looked good to me, but never achieved the appearance of a copper penny described in the recipe. I was, however, careful to not let it burn, as admonished.

In another pan, I used another dollop of olive oil to sauté one large onion, two red bell peppers, and six stalks of celery -- all diced. Once softened, I added two 15-ounce cans of whole tomatoes, the better part of 8 cups of chicken broth, and a couple of bay leaves. I simmered this for 20 minutes. I then added about a pound each of fresh fish and shrimp. I simmered for about 10 more minutes, careful not to overcook the seafood. I stirred in the Old Bay, and we removed the bay leaves at table.

The result was better than it deserved to be, and I have already received plenty of gumbo file from Penzey's for next time.