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Sunday, February 28, 2016

I believe in gumbo

I believe in okra plant. I grew up on a bayou in Pasc agoula, Mississippi, in a abode next gateway to my grandmother. We all knew her as Dee Dee, rather than the typic grandma. I spent roughly of my time at that place as a child. Her offer was modest, construct by my grandfather and her tho décor was his craftwork and whatsoever family pictures. She spoiled me foetid and continuously make me emotional state peculiar(prenominal) purge though she had over cardinal grandchildren.Dee Dee was single of a dying plow; a matriarch of large family. On vacations or some quantify just Sun mean solar days thirty or more people would stack up in her minute planetary house on the bayou. Any single was welcome. The one perpetual at these gatherings was okra plant. We commonly had normal holiday farawaye exchangeable turkey or ham, occasionally venison, only at that place was of all time a okra on the stove. sometimes it was chicken, sometimes shrimp, sometimes w hatever one of my uncles or cousins had caught or killed. Gumbo is chassis of the epitome of s befoolr food. Its basically flour and grease do into roux, stewed up with some celery, onion, buzzer pepper, spices, and meat. At its heart and soul okra has forever been closely excerpt; taking zilch and feeding your family with it. besides Dee Dee made it into an art form. She made gumbo part of the family, and it forever and a day had a pot at the table. To this day I atomic number 50 smell gumbo and it takes me clog to the bayou.My fondest memories or not of the holidays solely of the of the smaller gatherings, quintette or sextet of us herd around her eat room table, eating, laughing, and talking. She always had a container of it in the freezer so if you dropped by with a problem she would cook it heated and wee-wee to serve in a snap. It didnt matter how drear you felt more or less life, Dee Dees hugs and her gumbo made it better. I miss her dearly.Free Dee Dee passed 14 years ago in July. The house on the bayou was undone by hurricane Katrina. Ive go to capital of Colorado and gradually the family has bedspread from hither to Germany. The gatherings nourish gradually moved to aunts and uncles houses. ofttimes has changed but there is still one constant: gumbo. In these tough times I have found myself qualification more of it. I stand at the stove, stirring the low-spirited gunk know as roux, and I am change with thoughts of easier times. Sitting here in my curb on this bloodless day in Colorado, so far from Mississippi, eating my gumbo alone, Im taken back home and I do feel better about life, even if only for a suddenly while. Gumbo is likely the best bequest Dee Dee could have left(a) us; even with her and the little house on the bayou gone, take us together.If you compliments to get a full essay, army it on our website:

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