About Us

I have long harbored the dream to make and sell my grandmother's gumbo. It's a third generation family recipe. Everything about her gumbo simmering in a huge pot on the stove says family and sharing. I can almost hear the chatter of the women in the kitchen and the laughter of the men just beyond it. Just the idea conjures up memories of great family gatherings from my childhood. I have memories of my grandmother, mother and dad, aunts and uncles all gathered in my grandmother's kitchen or flowing through it to ask if the rice or corn bread muffins were ready yet. I can't remember anyone ever asking if the gumbo was ready. As I got older I realized there was no point to asking that question since the fragrance of a good pot of gumbo permeates a house and sends ahead a message, very much like an eagerly anticipated invitation that arrives in the mail.

At holiday time my sister always says, "You make the Gumbo." One day I asked her if she asked me to make the gumbo because she thought it was really good or if she was merely "buttering me up" so I would do the work. Her answer was "No, It's really the best I've ever had. I think it's exceptional." This comment, coming from a woman who has had lots of gumbo and makes a mean pot of her own, was a huge compliment.