Big Billy's Catfish Gumbo - a weekend recipe

Here is a quick and easy dish Big Billy used to whip up when he entertained, which was often. Big Billy was so big and athletic that he could have made a career in pro football. Ironically, he was more into talking politics than watching sports on television. Still, his catfish gumbo is a perfect winter dish for watching college bowl games and the Super Bowl. This recipe serves eight.

Ingredients

• 2 lbs catfish filets, bite-sized

• 10 oz okra, sliced

• 1 c celery, chopped

• 1 c onion, chopped

• 1 c green pepper, chopped

• 2 cloves garlic, minced

• 3 T cooking oil

• 4 c beef broth

• 16 oz tomatoes, diced

• 1 bay leaf

• 1 t salt

• ½ t thyme, dried

• ½ t red pepper, ground

• ½ t oregano, dried, crushed

• 4 c rice, cooked, hot

Directions

In a large Dutch oven, cook celery, onion, green pepper and garlic in hot oil until tender. Stir in beef broth, tomatoes, bay leaf, salt, thyme, red pepper and oregano and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes.

Add catfish bites and okra, uncover and return to a boil. Cover and simmer for about 15 minutes or until fish flakes easily. Remove and discard bay leaf. Serve in bowls over rice.

Eric'sWeb

Strange Encumbrance

 Tuesday is Mardi Gras Day, the third since Hurricane Katrina ravaged the city of New Orleans. This year's celebration returns my memory to a Mardi Gras Day some thirty-five years ago.
I was in my last semester of graduate school at the University of Arkansas and still married to my first wife Gail.

Our best friends, Toni and Terrence went with us to Chalmette to celebrate Mardi Gras. Terrence was an animal husbandry major and we spent a day and night in Ferriday, Louisiana where Gail's father was the foreman of a large cattle ranch. We enjoyed a personal tour of the ranch and some of Gail's mother's gumbo before heading to Chalmette.

Gail had four sisters and two brothers. Each regaled us with drinks, dinners, and frivolity, all leading up to Mardi Gras Day. That Tuesday morning we awoke early and headed downtown. Drinking on the street was perfectly legal and we began imbibing by ten in the morning. We watched every parade we could get to, and along the way, we continued drinking.

We tried to pace ourselves, eating hot dogs and gumbo from various street vendors. All we really succeeded in doing was sobering ourselves for an awkward moment before plunging back into the depths of drunkenness. Somewhere around ten that night we finally stumbled to the car and headed north to Fayetteville.

When we reached Jackson, Mississippi, we stopped at a Denny's for breakfast. My stomach felt like hell, but still slightly better than my head. We reached Fayetteville at six the next morning, hardly time for a shower before I had to take a final test at eight.

Don't ask me how, but I aced the test, perhaps the best score I ever had in grad school. A few months later, Gail and I moved to Oklahoma City and never saw Toni and Terrence again.

I've never really thought much about that Mardi Gras, my lost friends, and a failed marriage. Maybe because youth is a strange encumbrance whose weight you never really feel until you're no longer young.

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