How transdisciplinary research is like making gumbo

Debra Butler
PhD Student, School for the Environment

A photograph of gumbo soup.
Photo credit: Gumbo Brothers restaurant, New York City.

Transdisciplinary research is “issue driven”, participatory and collaborative. Transdisciplinary research requires the time and patience to build relationships of respect and trust, to thrive in conditions of  ambiguity and uncertainty, to value iterative process over product, to learn from “failure”, to appreciate silences and that which is not obvious, to stay curious, and to “know” that nothing of life should be wasted.

I was raised in the culture and traditions of the coastal south, a gumbo of indigenous Native, African, Spanish, French, Greek, Irish, Lebanese, Caribbean and Chinese traditions, a place where timeless homelands and memories of distant home places converged. One of the advantages of doing research in one’s own community is a rich, deep backgrounding in place and people. Transdisciplinary research requires the researcher to honor and be accountable to one’s own community, taking care and knowing that intimacy is both advantage and restraint.  Transdisciplinary research must privilege the rituals of everyday life and the lives of collaborators in the research process.

Read Associate Professor of Anthropology Rosalyn Negrón’s article, “What is transdisciplinarity and what does it have to do with social justice?”…

Food was part of every ritual of life–to nourish, to negotiate, to celebrate, to comfort. Food was gift and  gratitude. Growing up, almost everything we ate was locally grown or harvested from the Gulf. The Gulf is a rice culture, so most meals included bowls of rice or grits with rich spicy sauces or étouffée.

My family was/is serious about food, and when you are serious about food, even a simple meal turns into a party. Gumbo is a party. This story is about one of those rituals and why transdisciplinary research is like making gumbo.

The word “gumbo” is thought to be of African origin, ki ngombo (Bantu) for okra, brought by Africans to the Gulf coast. Other interpretations consider the word a corruption of kombo (Choctaw) for sassafras, which is ground into powder called filé. Okra or filé was the thickener in gumbo, a truly indigenous food with taste and texture dependent on what ingredients were available, whether the meal was “everyday”or celebratory, and how many folks had to be fed. There are as many kinds of gumbo as there are cooks on the Gulf Coast.

Like transdisciplinary research, there are certain important protocols that had to be understood and followed for a successful project.  According to local legend, oysters were safe to eat only in months with the letter “R” (September through April), period. Therefore, oysters were not an ingredient in warm weather gumbos. Instead, they were full of shrimp, crabs, chicken or sausage.  My grandfather fished with his brothers, so grandkids and cousins participated by crabbing on the bay. My grandmother, mother and aunts negotiated fresh shrimp prices from the boats docked at the waterfront. I moved along with this convoy of women, mostly listening, but occasionally called to select the plump little crustaceans by their color and briny smell.  I learned that that “browns” had more flavor and held up to spices and slow cooking…a “hands on” lit review!

In the warm, steamy magic of my Grandmother Ignacia’s kitchen, the ritual of gumbo was an “event”, especially when making winter gumbo during the cold weather seasons of Christmas, Mardi Gras and Lent. Winter gumbo was usually made with a richer stock and a roux (more on roux later). During Mardi Gras, and especially during Lent, gumbo was seafood only. During Lent, it was sacrilegious to even think about putting meat (sausage, game or chicken) in gumbo.

From the age of 8 or 9, I became the apprentice under my grandmother’s watchful eye and free-style methodology. Cooking was alchemy. It has its own sensibility, texture and music. She bought fresh file in tiny brown bags from her friend at St. Rose of Lima parish on Mon Lois Island.  She rubbed herbs between my palms…hold this over your nose, breathe…my brain coded “Sage”! Sassafras! Garlic!

I was the designated roux watcher, a position of dedication, honor and responsibility. Roux was made from good, plain flour and lard or Crisco in a heavy cast iron skillet. The roux was stirred constantly with a wooden spoon. You did not let the roux burn. The fat was melted on low heat before the flour was added, then the mixture was smoothed out and coaxed into a beautiful warm brown. There is no better smell than a good roux. I stirred, and stirred and stirred.

Again, like transdisciplinary research, the process is iterative. It is slow. It requires being “in the moment.” It calls for attention and care, the ability to absorb uncertainty and ambiguity, to watch and learn from community, to sometimes change direction, recalibrate and begin again.

Once, my cousin Denise became too involved in a comic book and let the roux burn. Poor Denise was was instantly expelled and banned from my grandmother’s kitchen. Her dishonor was more than a punishment for carelessness, it was a breach of my grandmother’s trust and a disrespect for the value, labor and commitment of preparing food. Denise was only allowed back when the magic was over and there nothing left but dirty dishes, pots and pans. My grandmother re-started another roux and dusted the flour from her apron. She handed me the wooden spoon. And, we began our research, again.

***

Day 1

Make the stock

In a large pot, add enough water to cover fish* or chicken or beef and celery, onions, bay leaves, garlic, red peppers.  Bring to a boil, then simmer for at least 2-3 hours. Cool. Remove meat & chop into small pieces. Strain stock. Discard skin and bones. Refrigerate stock and meat.

*Fish only for a seafood gumbo.

Day 2

Clean seafood. Check oysters and crabs for shell fragments. Refrigerate.

Chop celery, onions & garlic.  Add to stock. Add bay leaves. Re-heat.

Cut okra into ½ inch pieces. Set aside.

Make roux. Let cool to room temperature. (You can make the roux a day ahead of time. Save at room temperature in a glass container)

Add 2 cups of strained stock to roux to thin. Bring stock to boil. Add roux to stock at full boil. Cook at low boil 5 minutes. Add filé.  

Increase heat to full boil. Add seafood, oysters & okra, (meat from stock), and seasonings.

Stir. Turn heat OFF. Let gumbo rest for 20 minutes. Stir.

Remove bay leaves. Season to taste. Let the gumbo rest 1 hour.

Serve with hot white rice and heavily buttered crusty French bread & a cold beverage. Hot sauce on the side.

Thank the cook.

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