The Gumbo Variations: To Each His Own (Published 2000) (2024)

GUMBO should be as straightforward and approachable as its name. But something about the spicy Creole soup seems rigid and intimidating. Whenever we mentioned gumbo in a group of food lovers we heard cryptic warnings:

''If you make it right, it's the most expensive dish you'll ever make.''

''If you don't let it sit for three days, it's not gumbo.''

''It's all about your roux.''

''You can't make a little bit of gumbo, so don't even attempt it.''

Gloomy advice like that tends to induce kitchen cramp, the cook's version of writer's block, so we were thrilled to attend a gumbo ''duel'' at the Southern Foodways Symposium in Oxford, Miss., not so long ago where two competitors' gumbos were so wildly different that the mere suggestion of competition seemed downright unsportsmanlike. In a leafy grove, competitors ladled out their finest gumbo to 120 restaurant critics, chefs, culinary historians and plain old eaters, who voted by applause.

Here were stews that had in common only the white bowls in which they were served.

Leah Chase, the chef and owner of Dooky Chase in New Orleans, served a superb traditional Creole gumbo, a rich, smoky gravy full of good things: shrimp, chicken wings, crab legs, sausage, hunks of beef brisket.

Fritz Blank, the chef and owner of Deux Cheminees in Philadelphia, ladled out a tribute to his city's pepper pot, a gumbo with all the fundamentals of Ms. Chase's: a thick soup with gentle spice and heat, textured by a variety of meats.

But where Ms. Chase's soup was a brackish, silky broth thickened with roux and file powder, Mr. Blank's was jack-o'-lantern orange and velvety, thickened by a puree of rice, leeks and butternut squash. Ms. Chase's gumbo got its pep from paprika and hot sausage, Mr. Blank's from ginger and habanero chili.

Both gumbos were deeply complex, wildly exotic and perfectly balanced all at once: alternatingly briny, hot, savory and sweet elements mingled to mesmerizing effect, producing a slightly mysterious, almost spiritual pull that made us reach for spoonful after spoonful.