Po Boy Views
By
Phil LaMancusa
Cajun Gumbo
Chere,
time I learn you sumpthin’ an um tellin’ you like a mutha,
You
gotta learn to cook good gumbo if you’re gonna catch a luvah;
Your
Auntie Zoe Odette, she always been just sittin’ on the shelf,
While
Cousine Marie Ser’phine, I gar-on-tee, ain’t nevva by huhself.
The
secret’s in the ‘tennsion you pay, and how you do sashay
And
dance round the stove yer cookin’, and the fire that you lay.
The
aprons we gone be wearin’ is hung by the kitchen door,
The
weather’s nice the sun is out we couldn’t ask for more;
Now
come a little closer while I ‘splain my secret theory,
I
dun be tellin’ jes anyone, but you always bin my Deary.
Y’see
this wonder that we’re gonna make, it needs the ‘Danse Gumbo’,
Not
any dance you learn in school, more a Cajun two-step mambo.
G’wan
run me down a chicken fine and burn off all dem feddeh
Cotch
me now, that ole hen, Chere, that meat, I b’leeve tastes beddah;
Grab
me down my gumbo pot that big black iron ting, I swear
Gumbo
cookin’ in any udda, make me mean as a creek wet bear.
Slap
more wood on the fire and grab me the grease I keep
In
the ole coffee can, backa the stove; while we let them men folks sleep.
Kick
them shoes off, take off dem socks lemme see them sweet petite toes;
Get
us some music on the box like them rockin’ Los Po-Boy-Citos.
We
got to move our bodies with the vittles, I swear I tells you true,
The
secret ingredient’s that our gumbo’s has… is a Latin boogaloo.
Bring
me out gumbo crabs and swimps that Cousine Edgar caught,
Evreetings
goin’ in that pot jus’ like your Marraine Essy taught.
Y’all
don’t come out her off’t enuf so I gotta do this to learn ya
To
make that roux real careful like, so’s it doesn’t up’n burn ya;
While
I’m fryin’ up that hen get me the gizzards out the freezer
That
I’s been savin’ for this here gumbo that’s gonna be a pleaser.
Mince
them onions fine, celery too and bell peppers, uh, but
Don’t
mix ‘em, they be separate add, here let me see you cut.
Take
the chicken out the pan and add the flour slow’n steady
To
that grease and get the roux a goin’ and stir until it’s ready.
Put
that cornbread in the oven fire and make damn sure it’s hot;
Get
‘tater salad out the fridge, needs more hot sauce like as not.
Now
show me that roux hand, stir big circles, very slow and steady;
dun
let that roux go slashing you, tho I gots the aloe ready.
I
went over down by Thibodeaux to get some that good boudin,
An
while waiting for andouille too, I invited your cousine Anne;
She
up and married Alphonse the fire-man, they be happy, yeah;
Got
twins, a house and a fishin’ camp and they all be comin’, Chere.
I
tole her of your college life and how much you done learn;
That
roux is turnin’ tan to brown, now don’t you let it burn.
And
now the roux is dark as night, so throw your onions ‘pon it,
To
stop that roux right in its tracks you gotta stir like good goldarnit.
Now
the celery and bell peppers, and it aint trinity without the pope,
‘cause
if you forget the garlik, it be like dish washin’ without the soap.
We
gun let this gumbo sit at least a day, so that all the flavors mate,
When
company gets a bite of it… they’ll claim that even heaven can wait.
Now,
the trinity has dun its work, seafood, sausage’n chicken’s in;
No
tomatoes, okree or Creole stuff, I swear child where you been?
Talka
‘bout things can goes in, ersters, squirl; n’possum, if’n you jig one;
Parrain
Leon bringin’ his fiddle too, makin’ our fais dodo ta be big fun.
That
sweet well water’s what does the trick, Chere, add it up to here;
Now
we sit, let that cauldron do its work; go’ne fetch us ‘nutha beer.
