Flour Bumps

January 18, 2009 // Posted in !Burp, !Create  

Where am I going?

Where am I going?

I discovered that making gravy is like making roux. I learned that tidbit after a rib tickler of a moment over the holidays with the mother unit. We settled down in front of the idiot box after heaping helpings of gumbo and she she starts ranting on and on about a Wolf stove. Out of nowhere, I had an attack of the sillies. I envisioned her feverishly body stirring a cauldron of gumbo on her tippy toes on top of a step ladder, wailing an eye of newt mantra. One fatal slip and I’m telling the reporter the last thing I heard was “bring me more cra…?”

My fist attempt turned out surprisingly good and flour bump free. The real fuss was the indecision that plaqued me. I’m at the store thinking of one dish and buying for another. I’m still clueless while cleaning the meat but now hungry. Nelly Furtado was all Loose in the background and I was hooked on “No Hay Igual.” I was torn between a gravy dish or beef pan stews”. It lingered over me even after browning the meat. I remembered I had potatoes. “Bye, bye stew.”

This entry was posted on January 18, 2009 at 5:43 pm and is filed under !Burp, !Create (Tags: , , , , ). You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.

Comments (1)

  • […] Flour Bumps: I envisioned her feverishly body stirring a cauldron of gumbo on her tippy toes on top of a step ladder, wailing an eye of newt mantra. One fatal slip and I’m telling the reporter the last thing I heard was “bring me more cra…?” […]

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