I eat gluten-free, so making a roux with wheat flour is out. Today I tried to make gumbo for the first time. I made a roux with butter, rice flour, and potato starch. I ended up thickening everything too much, but the flavor was decent. Grade: B.
In any case, this all got me thinking about the roll of roux. I looked at some videos: roux of peanut butter color, chocolate color. It looks delicious, but it really is, in essence, a mix of oil and flour burnt to a specific degree. Those are not even high-quality ingredients. Why even bother cooking with that? Why not just cook the gumbo without that and thicken with okra and/or file?
Thanks for giving me the Straight Dope on roux and what makes it worthwhile.
In addition to thickening, roux supplies flavor and color. Cooking the roux until it turns brown imparts a nutty flavor that is noticeable if it is absent. Incidentally, the thickening properties of roux diminish the longer it cooks and the darker it gets.
Roux really does make a big difference in gumbo. I am an expert gumbo maker – it’s my signature dish and I have perfected it over the years since my childhood in New Orleans. I’ve made gumbo with roux and without roux (for a guest with gluten problems), and it’s much, much better with roux, both in flavor and thickness.
I use both roux and okra, even though many purists would cry foul. But for me they combine very well.
Gumbo without roux is really just seafood and okra soup with gumbo spices. There is nothing wrong with that but it isn’t gumbo. There is a lot more to gumbo than that and truly good gumbo is very difficult, time-consuming and usually expensive to make. Learning to make proper roux alone is difficult for most cooks and it is extremely easy to burn it too much.
Thanks for looking that up! I’d have to cut the recipe in half, as there are only two of us. I’ll use Emeril Lagasse’s seasoning recipe, since that’s what I use in jambalaya and I made a ton of it.
To get back on-topic, I haven’t made a really dark roux. I’m anxious to try it.
You make it sound a little too easy. I am from Louisiana too and good gumbo cooks are few and far between even there. Done correctly, it takes the better part of a workday to make a decent batch and it isn’t cheap. Two year ago, my Texan mother who lived in Louisiana for over 20 years finally succeeded in making her first really good batch of gumbo for a family dinner. It was excellent by any measure but not cheap (she put over $200 worth of seafood in it) and she slaved over that stove for longer than she has for any dish before or since. There were plenty of leftovers so she carefully loaded them into a large storage pot and put them in the garage refrigerator. My stepfather got mad about something stupid like he usually does the next day and threw upon the refrigerator door and knocked the pot over straight onto the garage floor. I honestly thought they were going to get a divorce over it and tensions ran high for the next couple of days. The (deceased) gumbo really was that good.
Oddly enough, the best gumbo cook that I know personally is my yankee ex-wife that went to college in Louisiana. However, she is a world-renowned expert in all gourmet foods and can cook just about anything to chef levels of expertise. The times when she made gumbo for visitors, I was the one that went to the store to get the ingredients (and pay for them). I was always astounded at the cost. You can fit an awful lot of expensive seafood in a large gumbo pot. One notable batch was $300 alone.
I think that I can make really good gumbo by myself because I have done all the individual steps myself at various times successfully but never from start to finish. It ranks pretty high on the time and difficulty scale overall. Good gumbo cooking requires several different skills ranging from classical French to creole to seafood that aren’t within range of your average cook without assistance and practice.
See, there’s the thing. I’ve been alone most of my life, so I have no problem eating leftovers every day until they’re gone. The SO… Not so much. So I have to be careful to make small batches. The good news is that I always make ‘too much’ and we have leftovers that are better the next day. The other good news is that making smaller batches is cheaper. Whenever I get to it, I’ll probably just use shrimp. Maybe some andouille.
Hm… I wonder if I still have file powder in the cupboard?
Okra and filé are pale substitutes for roux. Although I would like to try filé because the Creoles learned it from the Choctaws and I like to try my hand at Native American cuisine. The sort of thickening provided by okra is mucilaginous and I don’t know anybody who likes wet okra. I like crispy-fried sliced okra when not a drop of water touches it. But to be fair, the name gumbo itself refers to okra.
No, neither of them can stand up to the buttery toasty richness of roux. I like to cook Creole style, where they don’t destroy the roux by overcooking it, and they use butter as le bon Dieu intended. I like to use whole-wheat flour, which lends even more savor. Whole-wheat roux is dark to begin with, and I cook it to the color of melted chocolate ice cream, which corresponds to a nice blond roux made from white flour. Just be careful not to get any on your skin: it’s nicknamed “Creole napalm” for a reason.
Just don’t walk away from it. Roux demands your presence and attention until it comes off the stove, or you risk having burned bits or ruining it completely.
I won’t claim that my gumbo is particularly authentic – I know I’ve simplified a lot of steps because I don’t have the time and the skill to make perfectly authentic gumbo.
But I go for taste, and in taste, mine is still the best
I learne sort of a lost roux technique that is ultra-old school and just happens to be gluten free.
You finely chop a gargantuan amount of onions, green peppers and celery and then saute them in your preferred oil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Do this basically forever or until your vegetables have basically disintegrated.
Next add several cups of stock and simmer, stirring occasionally for another infinite time period, adding water as necessary.
Next, run this mixture through a fine strainer. All that should be in their are translucent scraps of cellulose. All the vegetable goodness should have dissolved into the liquid.
Simmer this liquid, until it thickens. Eventually, it will condense into a mixture virtually identical to the oil/flour type roux. Turn up the heat and whisk aggressively until you’ achieved the desired color. Be advised that this mixture is a lot more delicate than the flour/oil type, and is prone to burning or getting over done very fast.
The flour/oil mixture takes about 5 to 10 minutes to make. This version takes about 5 or six hours. I am assured though that this was the original and traditional way of doing it and that the results are incomparable.
I do it this way myself and think it’s much better, but I understand why this method fell into disfavor, as the oil/flour method is probably 80% as good with only 3% of the effort.
