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September 17th, 2010 » Fros­ted Fruit Mold

I’ve been going through the recipe box that my mum put together back when she got mar­ried. Being a mod­ern young woman, in the late ‘60s, she evid­ently appre­ci­ated the con­veni­ence of pro­cessed, pre-packaged foods. There is more than one Jello salad, and sev­eral cas­ser­oles incor­por­at­ing canned, con­densed soup.

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June 29th, 2010 » The Long, Bor­ing One About Gumbo

Da was sup­posed to be enjoy­ing some hot Gulf coast action right about now. Fate threw some wrenches and, well, he’s not. Under­stand­ably, he’s dis­ap­poin­ted. Oil balls and dead dol­phins don’t help.

On a side-note, I’ve been mak­ing some wicked gumbo lately. After last fall’s trip to NOLA, I had sworn off the stuff. Not off eat­ing it. Just off mak­ing it. I had noth­ing on the nat­ives. But as with all my inten­tions, time passes and resolve fades. That recent warm streak doesn’t help. So I’ve been mak­ing, again. Mak­ing good. Oh so good!

I was crow­ing about my most recent efforts to Da’s lovely bride, who sug­ges­ted that some kick-ass Father’s Day Gumbo may be just the thing to perk a cer­tain someone up.

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