“He discovered that Mercy truly hadn’t been to the grocery store. There wasn’t much of anything, but there was a little of everything. And that was all right. A little of everything would make a wonderful gumbo. As a flour-and-butter mixture bubbled in an electric skillet, he began piling an odd assortment of ingredients on the counter to wait their turn: a couple of foil-wrapped, leftover chicken breasts, a package of frozen okra, a couple of tomatoes, Polish sausage, Worcestershire sauce, and ...Tabasco sauce. In another frying pan he began sautéing a yellow onion, celery that had seen better days, and half of a red bell pepper he found in a plastic sandwich bag. He hadn’t been especially neat with the chopping, but then gumbo didn’t require painstaking preparation. A traditional gumbo just required a big pot and time to simmer. Time to simmer was just what Mercy needed too, he thought. Romancing her was turning out to be a lot like Cajun cooking, and he silently thanked his mother for drumming the basic concepts—of Cajun cuisine, and of life—into his head.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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