Making the gumbo was a lot of work and a lot of fun, and I used some ingredients that I’ve never cooked with before. I read about how traditional recipes use filé powder for the characteristic taste, and I was happy to find it at my regular grocery store. I also found frozen crawfish, those were tasty. I never cooked with seafood stock before, I always end up substituting chicken for it but this time I bought some.

Gumbo ingredients I used for the first time.

I used a combination of recipes I found online. One from RecipeZaar and one by Emeril on the Food Network site. For the roux, I used the first recipe (1 c. flour + 1 c. oil) rather than Emeril’s — I don’t know why he wants you to cook 4 1/2 c. of roux when you only need 1 1/2 c. for the gumbo. Unless you’re running a restaurant or making mass quantities of gumbo? How long does roux keep, is that something you can save and reheat for later?

Anyway, I worked mostly off of Emeril’s recipe, but added a few ideas from the RecipeZaar like the okra, catfish, and in place of oysters I used clams. So in total, I had shrimp, clams, crawfish, catfish and the andouille sausage. That’s so much protein for one dish and it was all delicious together. I followed Emeril’s instructions for the shrimp and marinated them in the “Essence” seasoning for about an hour. That made the shrimp so awesomely spicy! And eventually the spice spread to the rest of the stew.

We had some people over on Tuesday for Mardi Gras and a couple said it was too spicy for them. I would say on a scale of 1 to 5 it was about a 3. Maybe even a 2.5 with 1 being the least spicy. Everyone agreed that a sip or two of beer took the edge off the heat. What a great combination.

Here’s a not-super-great photo of the finished product. Trust me, it tasted wonderful.

My first gumbo, made for Mardi Gras.

Lots of times my food photos suck because I’m much more interested in eating the meal than trying to capture a perfect image. When four out of five of my senses have gotten to enjoy the journey of getting to that point of the food hitting the plate, taste takes over and wants a piece of the action. In the battle between my appetite screaming “PUT THE CAMERA DOWN BEFORE I EAT IT!” and my mind thinking, “You worked really hard and should take a picture to remember this,” you can tell by looking at some of my posts what part of me wins that argument.

I usually manage to take a picture of at least one of each of my two choices before the hunger takes control: one with the flash (that blasts everything with harsh, ugly light) and one without the flash (and I usually can’t hold the camera still enough so the pic is blurry). Looking at the photos through the eyes of someone who remembers how good the food tasted, they don’t look too bad…maybe just a little imagination is needed. My view is warped by these gastronomic memories and I’m willing to look past what’s on the screen and see something appealing and appetizing. I’m sure you don’t agree.

There are times, though, when no amount of leeway or imagination can cover up a truly horrible food photograph. The image below is an example of this.

Possibly one of the worst photos of good food. Extreme close-up of Christmas roast not a good idea.

Now, it’s easy for me to laugh at this one because I neither took the photo nor made the dish. But then I remember that I actually ate this, and then it’s not as funny. This nightmare of a photograph shows a roast served at my parents house a few years ago at Christmas. I remember it tasted great. My sister cooked that and lots of other great food that day.

I also remember the first time I saw this picture. A few months after the holidays, I was making my way through a CD of pictures that my mom sent me, dividing my attention between the slideshow of 200 or so images of recent family events and the TV. One glance at this filling the entire screen almost made me fling my laptop to the floor in shock. The fight or flight response kicked in and I let out a small cry. Was it going to hurt me? I think I blacked out for a few moments.

Seriously, could you get a more horrific picture of something that was passed around the family dinner table on Christmas day? It’s just wrong. Not to mention, I can’t get over the fact that I ate that. But it didn’t look like that when I ate it. I was there—it wasn’t like that in real life. What the hell happened?

There’s no question that there’s something wrong here with the photography. There’s a greenish tint to everything, you got the flash making every bit of fat way too shiny, and I’m sure there are plenty more shortcomings to point out from a technical perspective. I can’t name them because, like I said, I didn’t get very far with my career in photography.

But I also wonder how much of that photo is true. Was I so blinded by the excitement and anticipation of Christmas dinner with my family that I looked past certain things that I later found repulsive in the photo of that food? Was I so swept up with holiday cheer that I was eating anything? I like to think not because I remember how hard my sister worked and what a success everyone thought that dinner was. Maybe it’s better not to photograph food and just remember meals in the context of the atmosphere and people you enjoyed them with. Maybe it’s better to remember the food with all your senses, rather than relying on a photograph to tell you what it was like.

Or maybe it’s just better if I don’t photograph food, and leave it to the people who know what they’re doing.

Blueberry ginger pancakes

We’re running low on syrup, and according to the notes I see posted in the grocery store, so are the trees. They raised the prices on syrup because it was a bad harvest this season. Is harvest the right word? The point is, the trees didn’t produce as much as expected, so that’s why we’re in a maple syrup shortage. I haven’t checked the prices recently—it may have to be elevated to a maple syrup crisis. Stay tuned to more from SyrupWatch 2009.

Toasted marshmallow is such a delicious, distinctive smell and taste. It brings back lots of memories of camping as a kid and the wild fun of what summer used to feel like. Now, after the past two years of living in this place, it reminds me of winter and toasting marshmallows in the fireplace with my husband.

It usually follows the same pattern. After impatiently burning the first one or two I cook, I finally try actually toasting them. I’m OK with burnt ones though. There’s nothing wrong with with a little charred sugar.

We always use 10″ kabob skewers for roasting but still almost burn our hands because the fire gets so hot. This is usually why I run out of patience and light mine right away so I can pull my hand back. I love the roaring sound of the marshmallow catching fire, and I’m mesmerized by how quickly the flames engulf the little ball of sugar, burning like a torch. I can usually peel two or three layers off of one if I cook it this way.

Eventually the flames of the fire die down and the wood starts to glow orange. If the wood is stacked right, we’ll get a little cave-like space that we use as an oven to slowly roast the marshmallow. Twirling the skewer will brown it evenly.

Different degrees of toasting vary the flavor.

Another fan of the fireplace is the kitty, who loves to curl up in the warm glow.

The cheese is just as important…but I can’t explain what makes it great. Not too oily, with a good texture and flavor? Other than tasting good, I don’t know what goes into great pizza cheese. It’s easy to tell when it’s bad though.

I think for me the sauce can probably get away with the most mistakes. If the crust and cheese are top-notch, I could probably let a bad sauce slide. Except for this pizza place I lived above in Boston that had the worst sauce I’ve ever tasted. The owner produced a traditional pizza but used some blend of spices in the sauce that was absolutely wretched.  I don’t know if it was Chinese five spice or some kind of jerk seasoning, but in addition to the awful taste, the sauce had a rusty-brown color. Someone once said they saw him sprinkling cinnamon on it before throwing it in the oven. I didn’t make it through my first piece. What a waste, living above a pizza place that totally sucks.

Well aside from the worst-pizza-ever story, seems like I have the most to say about why the crust is the most important part. I didn’t think I had a solid answer. Maybe I’ll be back when I have more pizza.

Purple Cauliflower & Beets

OK, the photo kind of sucks and is scary. Bear with the poor lighting in my place and the fact that this looks like chopped up organs of some kind. But…if you like oddly colorful food, this is for you!

Purple Cauliflower with Roasted Beets, Sausage and Mushrooms

The grocery store recently was selling purple cauliflower. Something I had heard of but 1) never thought I’d see in my regular store and 2) never thought it would be the same price as the white cauliflower. So I had to try it. I wondered whether the purple color would fade when it was cooked, so I thought it might need some help. Why not try some beets? Those are colorful, right?

Turns out the cauliflower’s purple doesn’t fade at all when cooked, in fact it only intensifies. This marvel got me thinking, “Why should there be anything in this meal that’s not a ridiculous shade of magenta?” So I used the liquid leftover from roasting the beets to stain the mushrooms and sausage pink. Mixed everything together and ta-da!

By the time I had this assembled and ready to eat I was second-guessing things. Too bad I don’t have white dinner plates so I could maybe get a grip on it. I tried to pick out the most complementary/neutral color out of my cabinet full of circus-like Fiestaware, but it was still a bit of a visual overload. That appetite part of my brain just wasn’t used to dealing with these unusual hues at dinner time. Once I started eating, though, things were back on track — yum!

To re-create the colorful and slightly insane-looking meal presented here, just follow these simple steps.

1. Roast beets. One bunch of beets (4-6) and 1/4 c water should go for about 45 mins on 375°F. Cover pan tightly with foil or with a lid if you’re fancy like that. (Use a purple Pyrex ftw!) Let the beets cool slightly and then peel the skins off them and slice. Reserve roasting liquid.
2. Steam or microwave the cauliflower. As firm as you like it, between 6-12 mins in the microwave depending on how much you cook.
3. Wash, trim, blanch and sauté beet greens with olive oil, garlic and red pepper flakes.
4. Cook sausages, then slice and soak slices in the remaining beet juice while you remove beet skins. I used chicken sausage and it absorbed the color well.
5. Slice mushrooms and soak in the remaining beet juice.
6. Make a little sauce/glaze of white wine, olive oil, garlic, soy sauce (or balsamic vinegar), honey (or OJ), oregano, salt & pepper.
7. Mix everything together and eat. Or, cut out the sweetness in the sauce, combine everything in a roasting pan, top with blue or goat cheese & breadcrumbs and broil for a few minutes.

This keeps and reheats well…but if you bring leftovers in to work you might get looks.

I grew tomatoes over the summer. These were called something like “Sweet 100″ and produced lots of little sweet fruits. Similar to grape tomatoes but round, not elongated. I also had a “Patio Tomatoes” plant that grew slightly bigger tomatoes. I wouldn’t buy that again because they had a weird texture, kind of mealy, and they weren’t very flavorful. I’ll have to wait a few more months before I can cultivate more patio foods. Winter is still here.