ROUSES_Fall2022_Magazine-low-res

WWW. ROUSES . COM

23

PHOTO BY ROMNEY CARUSO

; I African dialects), and it certainly arrived on American shores by way of the trans atlantic slave trade. But whether it was first cultivated in West Africa, East Africa or South Asia is unclear. What we do know is that, over the centuries, it has crossed the Sahara, leaped across the Atlantic and Pacific, and been enjoyed by sultans, presidents and grand viziers alike. Okra is present in the etchings in Egyptian tombs and in the writings of Thomas Jefferson. During the Middle Ages in the Arab world, okra was believed to hold therapeutic powers as an aphrodi siac. (Its chemistry backs this up, as it is rich in magnesium, zinc, iron, folic acid and vitamin B.) It was also used internally to prevent pregnancies, making its role in reproduction oddly thorough. During the Civil War, the coffee trade with South America was badly disrupted, leaving Confederate soldiers hurting for a fix of morning sludge. Not to worry, though, because okra, which thrives in warm Southern climes, could be grown, dried, ground and brewed for an adequate coffee substitute. Is there nothing it can’t do? But wait, there’s more! Since okra made its way back and forth across the map centuries before the discovery of America, the pointy green fruit has slimed its way across every kind of cuisine you can think of. I’d give you a gumbo recipe, but even know better than to offer an opinion about that to a Southern audience; one wrong ingredient and you’d set my car on fire. It’s slimy. Every good recipe for okra is a fanciful guide to helping you make okra taste and feel like something that isn’t okra. When somebody tells me they like okra, I smile wanly and wonder what else is wrong with them. Here is something else you might not know about okra: No one knows where it came from. In the South, we know it locally as a thickening agent usedwhen preparing gumbo (indeed, the word a derivative of the word for

I

My editor asked me to write about my opinion of okra, as I’ve done previously in these pages for pineapple on pizza (favorable), waffles versus pancakes (pancakes — I mean, come on), and ranch dressing as dipping sauce (the headline for Who Put Ranch Dressing on Their Pizza Are a Disgrace to Humanity disapprove of the practice). Reader, I have no problem sharing my (accurate) opinions about food.

than let anyone eat it.) When it came to roux, each sister gave a variation on “She never made them. She just didn’t have the patience.” So, pretty on brand, in the parlance of our times. After laughing a bit, we moved on to the prime question: “How do you make gumbo?” and the stories continued. Barbara makes gumbo in Colorado for friends and special occasions. Noel can’t make her mother’s recipe because her family hates okra. Luckily, Lula (who lives nearby) will always put a quart in the freezer for her baby sister. (“I love her for that.”) We move on to grandkid talk and whatever jokes come to mind. But after we hang up, I think we’re all thinking about our family traditions, the folks that taught us, and when we’re making the next pot. We can get older and keep cooking, but The Gumbo Talk continues.

that one was Not to Judge, but People

okra in various

gumbo is likely

your

By David W. Brown

TEAM TOMATO

S till, picking on okra seemed… well, it just seemed wrong. Those first bites of okra are blandly bitter if you’re lucky.

Good, Bad or Just Medi-Okra