Cajun magic
November 21st, 2010
Yesterday I went shopping at Healthy Living, our local (Burlington, Vermont) version of the alternative supermarket where you can buy local, grass fed beef and locally raised, free range chicken, and most of the produce section is organic, and the food bar sells stuff made with tempeh. I’ve never liked tempeh. But this time I was attracted by a bin labeled chicken and andouille gumbo. Looked good, smelled great. I got a bowl, and after waiting in line an inordinately long time behind a young couple who couldn’t decide between one panini and another – why, I ask parenthetically, can’t people make up their minds what to order BEFORE arriving at the register? – the aroma of my soi disant Cajun soup had me practically drooling.
Then I sat down and ingested a great big spoonful and it was the same old story. Before I went to New Orleans this fall, I had tasted various dishes denominated “Cajun” or “Creole” here in the Northeast, and had not been impressed. Lots of
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