The Fat Time of the Year.

 Back home the holidays look like this.
The fireworks show, ice skating and fake blown snow all help to make a California town feel like Christmas - palm trees and all.

 The lights, carriage rides and costumed characters add to the feeling.

But here in Southeast Texas - Christmas is all about the food.
Thanksgiving is just the warm-up. (Although the lobster and shrimp macaroni and cheese sprinkled with bacon bits was pretty damn good.)

It gets cold down here on the Gulf.
No, not North Dakota cold but the temperatures drop enough and it rains enough to entice Creoles to show off their cooking skills.

On cold days people make Gumbo.
And no, not the stuff where people buy bottled roux and store bought ingredients.
I'm talking about roux made from frozen and saved drippings from various meat dishes and browned flour.
I'm talking about ingredients which are homemade, plucked, caught and/or grown.
I'm talking about that old-school Gumbo only ones great-aunt still makes.

No, it's not plated to be pretty.
It's not worthy of food-porn posts on Facebook.
The recipes will not be written in published books.
There may be some stray bacteria in the roux.
It may look the same coming out of your body as it did going in.
But NOTHING beats the food this time of year cooked by women who know no other way.