Gravy

I have a dirty little secret I have been trying to cover up for years.  I never learned to make gravy.  Gasp.  It's out there now for all the world to see.  I am a gravy-challenged American.

My mother was a fabulous cook who was always finding and trying new recipes.  A couple of times a year, she would make holiday food that included gravy but somehow never showed me how in the 34 years I had with her.  Maybe I never showed an interest in learning.  What a fool I was to think I could live my life without this skill.  She taught me the three Rs, but not the fourth ... the Roux.

So I spent years avoiding and even covering up the gravy issue.  I bought jars and cans of prepared gravy.  I would quickly toss the empty containers in the recycle bins outside so no one would be the wiser.  I added pan drippings to the store-bought versions and microwaved them in my mother's prettiest gravy boat to distract and to make it look like I knew what I was doing!  I passed it off as my own and, while it may not have been delicious, no one knew my secret.

Until this past year. 

I couldn't find a 12-step program but somewhere along the way I found some hidden strength and decided this couldn't be all that hard.  It appears I had to admit that I was, indeed, gravy impaired.  A very sad condition to be in.  I had to admit it ... admitting it is the first step, or so I've heard.

So I decided no more canned/jarred gravies would enter my pantry.  It was either my homemade concoction or nothing at all.  I had already narrowed down the cause of my predicament to the roux, but couldn't figure out what I was doing incorrectly even after googling.  This so called "roux" was the basis for my failure, not only with gravy, but with the illusive macaroni and cheese as well.  This past week, I got that monkey off my back once and for all.  I finally figured out the art of the roux.  Whew!

The roux.  A little mixture of fat and butter that would humiliate me time and time again.  I could make "non-roux-based foods" with my eyes shut.   Why was this happening to me?  My gravy tasted like flour.  My macaroni and cheese tasted grainy and pasty.  The box that the store-bought mac & cheese came in tasted better than my version.

Then a breakthrough!  I finally figured out that the key to making a roux was low and slow!  I read in my favorite cookbook that it needed to be on medium low heat, not high to insanely-high heat, like I had thought!  I learned the successful golden color that only low and slow could achieve.

I made my first successful roux for macaroni and cheese.  My very first ever roux success!  I cried!  My family, though cautious at first, devoured it.  Nobody fed it to the cat when I wasn't look.  I had achieved a new level of household bliss!

Then yesterday, my son's 23rd birthday, it happened!  I promised to make chicken fried steak and country gravy for dinner for the first time.  Usually only a restaurant favorite for this household, he looked at me with shock and fear when I suggested this for his special celebration.  You could see the weariness in his brown eyes as he asked cautiously, "How confident are you that you can make this?"  "Very," I said, with a wink and a nudge.  "Trust me."  Then, I delivered! 

Like an athlete prepares for a competition, I prepared for this meal for 24 hours ... visualizing, planning, writing, reading, meditating!  Then, in a moment of triumph, I did it!  I made the gravy and it was gooooooood!  Oh sweet victory!  Never again shall I hang my head in shame at the mere mention of gravy.  I will rise to meet my roux!  I will face the challenge of the white sauce, the mac and cheese, the sausage gravy.  No more embarrassing my family ... well, at least when it comes to gravy.