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Alphabet Soup By Sarah Baird No matter where you travel along the byways and backroads of the Gulf Coast, practically every person you encounter will have big opinions about how to make the best gumbo. Some swear by okra as a gumbo thickener; others would almost come to blows over the superiority of filé powder. At a dinner, it’s common to see second cousins bickering over whether or not a roux spoon matters — and who gets to inherit their grand-mère’s heirloom gumbo cauldron. For every person with roots in the “gumbo belt” of South Louisiana, there is a one-of-a-kind take on what makes gumbo truly sing. By my reasoning, though, there are no wrong answers, just more “Why didn’t I think of that?” permutations of techniques and ingredients to learn. The A-Z alphabet of gumbo aims to provide a fresh does of inspiration — and maybe a little nostalgia — for when you’re cooking your next pot. There are enough gumbo iterations to keep stirring up new versions well into your golden years, melding together time honored tradition with modern tweaks and learned-in-the-gumbo-trenches best practices. Who knows, what you read next might even change your mind about how to answer that age-old question: How do you gumbo?

for a pillowy hunk of bread? It will ensure your gumbo is good to the last drop.

TEAM ROUX

A IS FOR ANDOUILLE Andouille makes no secret Of its smoke and its spice, So when it comes to gumbo, Chefs don’t think twice.

C IS FOR CHICKEN No poultry can top Chicken’s place in the pot, Whether seafood or sausage, It’s tossed in a lot.

A type of sausage perfected in the parishes that snake along the Mississippi River between New Orleans and Baton Rouge, andouille’s dense, smoky depth is almost as synonymous with gumbo as the roux itself. Combining the best of German porky engineering with a dash of French je ne sais quoi , andouille’s sometimes peppery, often garlic-flecked flavor profile plays nicely with almost all other ingredients typically found in gumbos to form some of the most classic ingredient pairings around. (Sausage and chicken gumbo, anyone?) Sure, there are other types of hot sausage tossed in a gumbo every now and again — particularly among non traditionalists — but nothing can replace the hearty ubiquity of andouille. An “andouille trail” even recently launched in Louisiana’s River Parishes so smoked meat devotees can get their porcine fill from local purveyors.

Out of all the proteins from both land and sea that grace the gumbo pot, chicken is the most underrated. It doesn’t have the tongue-tickling burn of hot sausage, nor does it come with the innate brininess of seafaring crustaceans. It’s a plain Jane in the company of rock stars. No matter the recipe, though, it’s always there for you — just waiting for a little flicker of attention. So, next time you’re dreaming up a gumbo, why not give your chicken a little bit of extra loving: a spice-rich rubdown or a day at the seasoning spa. And if you find that your pampered chicken brings a whole new element to your gumbo, maybe next up on your list will be making a Cajun-style whole hen version.

D IS FOR DARK ROUX White, blonde, to brown, Watch it close until dark, Every gumbo lover knows The roux gives it its spark.

B IS FOR BREAD Dipping crackers in gumbo

Is classic — it’s true But for many of us, Nothing but French bread will do.

An expertly crafted roux serves as the flavorful foundation for most modern gumbos (even if there’s a little filé added in), but what color the roux should be is the source of much debate among home cooks throughout South Louisiana. Some people swear that it should be the color of a brown paper bag; others are aiming for a roux that’s chocolate-bar hued; some even take it to the almost-burned edge. No matter where you fall on the sepia tinged rainbow that is the great roux debate, everyone is just working to make their roux look half as good as their grandmother’s version.

For some gumbo lovers, the crunch of regular ol’ saltines — or even a handful of puffy oyster crackers — is sufficient for dipping into the bowl. It’s straightforward; it’s trusted; it’s not fussy. It won’t turn any heads in a restaurant or make your friends give you side-eye. For others, though, sopping up every last drop from the bottom of the gumbo bowl is the only option — and that’s where a nice, thick piece of French bread comes in. If you’re not afraid to get a little messy, and look a little gluttonous, might I suggest swapping out ho-hum crackers

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