I like to cook. This was a rather late development in my life. Growing up, I could certainly cook the basics, except rice which challenges me to this day, but I simply didn't take the time in my earlier adulthood to actually find the 'joy in cooking'. In some part, that's because I will always be intimidated and in awe of my very good friends, the Sullivans. There is not a one of them who is not an outstanding chef. Still, I do my best.
The other night, I had a yen for etoufee. I was just a little tired of pasta, didn't like the idea of leftovers and wasn't really prepared to grill anything that took time. Now, I've made etoufee before, twice. But I haven't been very happy with the results. It was tasty and all, but I had to cross the line that apparently can spark foody wars. Cooked tomato or no cooked tomato. (No, I'm not discussing the common practice of chopped tomato on top of the finished product.) What I learned, among other things, is that you use tomato if the flavor of the roux isn't right. Mine wasn't. I've attempted roux multiple times (notice that's more than 2) but the only success I've had is in making blond roux. This will not do for etoufee.
So, this was it, the moment, the challenge, the Super Bowl of the simple. I was going to make dark roux. And I did. This is the roux after 30 minutes.
Okay, a couple of things. I've talked to everybody, friends, fellows, countrymen, about how to do this right. I've gotten every piece of advice worth listening to, and many that weren't. So let's challenge the myths right up front.
Paula Deen, the 'goddess' of southern cooking, is flat fricking wrong. She says, and I quote:
Note: To make roux, use oil instead of butter, because butter burns
No. She did not just go there, but she did. And she ain't the only one. If it ain't butter, it ain't roux. Adios, Paula.
Emeril Lagasse get's the point. Butter is mandatory for good eats. But he, and seemingly everybody else, requires that roux be cooked in cast iron (skillet, dutch oven ...). Uhh, no. Notice, I'm working that up in an aluminum skillet, albeit a really good one. Cast iron, not required.
Others have given me suggestions. 'It has to be cooked over flame, on a grill or gas stove'. Nope, it doesn't. 'STIR CONSTANTLY!'. No, sorry. Stir a lot, yes, but constantly? No. 'Cook over medium heat'. That has been my failing before. Cook over low heat, 2 to 3 to 4 on a numbered stove setting. And for pity's sake, don't be afraid to play with the heat. Turn it slightly up or down and pay attention. 'Wisk the recipe amount of flour into the melted oil/butter'. DO NOT DO THAT! Add flour somewhat gradually wisking all the time. Then worry about cooking it. Ignore recipe amounts of ground wheat. You'll know when it's right.
This is the roux after about 50 minutes. Yes, I know that the photo sucks. I really need a digital SLR, really. The roux was much darker, and smelled so much better then. Unfortunately for photography purpose, my beloved got home shortly after that. I pay attention to my wife, more than I do pics for the web. Sorry.
The whole process took about an hour and 10 minutes. The roux is the color of a milk chocolate candy bar. Notice that I say "is". That's because I haven't used it yet. Remember , roux hates me. When Chris got home on Tuesday, the roux wasn't done, but it can be and was refrigerated. We had leftover pasta stuff that I created for dinner a couple nights before, and it wasn't bad at all. (Fresh Parmagiano and Asiago are also a secret nuke in cooking wars.) So, no ettoufee.
Wednesday, I got home from the salt mines, salivating about making a shrimp extravaganza. However, I was overwhelmed by the weary about 4, and laid down after that to clear my head. I didn't wake until well after 7. Uhh, more leftovers. Okay, no etoufee.
Last night. I grilled the necessary meat items. I plucked the most succulent green onions from the garden, and fried them to clarity. I grilled and skinned bell peppers, chopping the meaty pulp in with the onions to be panned in butter. Oh yum. And then I was cutting green onions for a top relish. I changed my grip on the knife, and got lazy. My stupid bad. I sliced my thumb to the bone.
No I will not post pictures of the gore. But it was really awful. I keep my cooking knife very very sharp, and it did exactly what I told it to do. Which at that point was apparently "remove my thumb!" Lots of blood and despair later, my beloved got home and helped me bandage the damage. But certainly, there would be no etoufee last night. ~sigh~ So we had grilled hot dogs on French bread, which were actually kind of awesome!
I think, no, I am convinced that roux simply hates me and my Montana northern ways.
UPDATE: So, I finish the post and go off to make etoufee. I pull all the containers out of the fridge, start the stock and add the meat and vegies. The roux won't come out of the Glad container, though, so I put it in the microwave for two minutes to soften it up. It burned through the bottom of the container, and I now have melted plastic roux on the Microwave plate, not to mention a new couple of lovely oil burns on my legs and feet. It was perfect roux, perfect, and now it's history.
Roux fucking hates me. That's the only explanation.