So a couple of days ago I had the distinct honor of heading over to New Orleans with my good buddy Kevin to help cook up a mess o’ vittles for some amazing folks from Michigan (Go Blue!), and Montana (Go whatever your team is called. Do you even have enough people to play football?), and Pennsylvania (OK, love JoePa, but that’s as far as I can go with that).

These folks have given up a week to come and help victims of Hurricane Katrina rebuild their lives, their communities, and their wonderful city. Some of these great people have done this nine times in the past four years and change in various places from Pearlington, MS to New Orleans to my very own bayou communities south of Houma.

As I got the chance to tour the area and see some of the amazing work they’re doing, I also got to see how much work is still left to do. But it gives me great hope to know that groups such as these are committed to coming back as often as they can to see the job through even when some of their friends and family up north and out west and out east don’t understand that we’re not all better down here yet and won’t be for many years to come.

So as Kevin and I started getting ready to roll up our sleeves and feed some very hungry people, I thought, hey, I’ve never done a cooking post. And if you think you’re going to learn how to cook Shrimp Spaghetti for dinner tonight, well, you’d be wrong. Not that I don’t want to share the recipe, but I doubt most of you are planning family dinner for 50 tonight. But I will give you a little blow by blow action anyway and you can probably figure out how to do this for more normal portions.

So first we gathered up a few ingredients.

Can’t forget the shrimp. And of course, it goes without saying that you need to make sure that’s some pure, wild-caught Louisiana shrimp. Demand the best!

And now to start the roux. OK, I admit, some bayou people look at me in horror when I say that I start my shrimp spaghetti with a roux. Others just nod their heads. Yep, of course you start with a roux. To each his own. The proof is in the pudding so to speak and well, I think this pudding is mighty tasty. I always say, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it, but you’ll be sorry.

Now, this roux is not for the limp-wristed. We got three kinds of roux down the bayou–the one, two, and three beer rouxs. But since I was at a Presbyterian Disaster Assistance camp, I had to settle for the three lemonade variety. Some funky music is also helpful, but I left my iPod out in the car and once you start, you can’t stop.

So you basically stir, stir, stir and stir some more until it’s a nice dark brown. And then stir a little longer.

Actually, don’t tell anyone, but this roux really isn’t dark enough, but we were on a tight schedule and I started to panic.

Anyway, while you’re pouring all that love in to your roux, it’s wonderful to have a good buddy around for interesting conversation and to cut up all that delicious andouille sausage.

Alright, time to throw in the trinity. And you bet we cheated. You know how long it takes to chop up enough onion, green pepper, celery, parsley, and garlic for an army?

Alright, after that’s smothered down, throw in some more garlic, some Ro-Tel and that beautiful andouille. But don’t forget your vegetarian friends out there and transfer some of that yummy goodness to another pot before the sausage hits the fire. Why anyone would want to voluntarily deprive themselves of andouille is beyond me, but cest la vie.

Smother that down some more and pour in the sauce. Whole tomatoes are probably better, but I’m just not a big fan of tomato chunks (yeah, it’s just a weird texture thing I got) so y’all are just going to have to live with it.

Now, that roux is going to make it real thick, so add in some water.

Throw in your spices. I’m a big fan of Tony’s, crab boil, and any good Italian seasoning blend. Drop in a few bay leaves and viola. Just let it simmer a good bit.

About 15-20 minutes before dinner, turn up the heat, throw in the shrimp, bring to a quick, low boil, turn off the heat and eat! Oh yeah, don’t forget the spaghetti. And really, don’t trust those “suggested” serving sizes on the package. Double it. And if you’re cooking for a team of folks who’ve been out hammering and mudding and grouting and painting and shingling all day, triple it. Thank goodness for leftover frozen spaghetti in the freezer that we could make quick work of warming up. Live and learn!

And I even got the sister seal of approval which is a big deal since she thinks most of my meals come out of a box. Happy birthday Sue!!! You rock!!!

And yes, hearing my super amazing MiddleSis try to pronounce Tchoupitoulas was wonderful and brought back memories of my first attempt at it!

Hey fellas! Long time no see. How you doing?

Hey baby. Is that a fish in your pouch, or are you just glad to see me?

Oh my gosh! Something just touched my foot! Can’t we just find a nice sit-down buffet someplace?

So Boudreaux and Thibodaux walk in to this bar…Oh man, not this one again.

Rahhhhhhhhhhhh!

Oh no! Tooooo fast! Fore!!!

Whew! I meant to do that the whole time.

Come to papa!

Score!

Now that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, baby!

Come on fellas. Leave some for the rest of us. No one likes a fish hog.

Oh man. Who is that? Great, a Yankee with a camera.

Whoa! That branch is a bit precarious. I need to stop eating those German chocolate brownies every night. Ah, but they’re so good.

Alright, here we go. Click, click, click. Can’t you just leave me alone? I’ve had a busy day and I just want a little me time. Is that too much to much to ask?

OK, time for some intimidation. Look little girl, these talons are razor sharp and I have no qualms about coming down there and gauging your eyes out.

Really, I’m serious. Stop it.

OK little miss I-think-I’m-a-hot-shot-photographer! I have had about e-nough from you. Put that camera away right this second, get back in that truck and head on down the highway.

Do you hear me? That’s it. I am going to count to three. One. Two.

Three. Really, this branch is not safe. How come they don’t make branches down the bayou like they used to?

Fine. Be that way. I’m outta here.

Ha ha ha! You may have gotten skunked, but I did not my sad little Yankee friend!

So as I’ve previously mentioned here, I recently spent a day in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley. And while the scenery was truly magnificent, I must admit that I was feeling a might bit homesick during my stay. Having been on the road for 10 days and 1700 miles at that point, and knowing another 1000 miles lay between me and the bayou, I’ve got to say that I was kind of wishing I could hop on a plane and be done with those traveling blues that I was momentarily suffering from. And as I sat gazing over a mountain so full of orange and red and yellow leafed trees that it appeared as if on fire, I was actually trying to conjure up images of the marsh landscape I was missing so deeply. But as I was about to put myself out of my misery, take a nap and hope for dreams of orange sunsets and red fishes and yellow corks bobbing in calm dark waters, a precious little girl approached and said, “You know there are a lot of fun things to take pictures of around here. Want me to show you?” But of course! How can you resist a private tour by a Shenandoah Valley expert? Let’s go!

Oh yes, that leaf is very pretty. Yes, of course I will take a picture of it.

Oh yes, that rock is very interesting. Yes, of course I will take a picture of it.

Oh yes, that water is very clear. Yes, of course I will take a picture of it.

Oh yes, that bird cage is precious. Yes, of course I will take a picture of it.

Oh yes, that flag is darling. Yes, of course I will take a picture of it.

Oh yes, that birdhouse is very well crafted. Yes, of course I will take a picture of it.

Oh yes, that swing does look very fun. Yes, of course I will take a picture of it.

Oh yes, Hunter does go very fast on that tractor. Yes, of course I will take a picture of him.

Oh yes, that frog does look very slimy. Yes, of course I will take a picture of him.

Oh yes, we should let him go to catch another day. But yes, of course I will take a picture him before he hops away.

Oh yes, that leaf does look like a heart. Yes, of course I will take a picture of it.

Oh yes, my friends, she is too sweet and did steal my heart. Thank you Reese for showing me all of the wonderful things to take pictures of in your world. I never would have noticed them without you as my expert guide.

Never stop exploring my little friend.

Alright, so if you’ve landed here a time or two, it will come as no surprise that I am enthralled with the birds of south Louisiana. I am particularly fond of the big birds (no, not the Sesame Street variety although Big Bird was definitely a childhood hero). But it’s not that I don’t like smaller birds. It’s just that my eyes aren’t what they used to be so I often don’t notice them as easily and I don’t have one of those groovy cool super-duper zoom lenses to make them look like anything other than colored dots when I do see them. While I’m sure that Santa will be leaving a few of those high-powered lenses under some Christmas trees this year, there won’t be one under mine. But that’s ok, cause I still need to figure out how to use the lenses I do have anyway.

I was thinking though that it’s kind of funny that I love taking photographs of all these amazing birds throughout our wetlands, but I can’t really identify most of them by name. It’s not that some very patient folks haven’t tried to teach me, but I think my memory is beginning to follow my eyes. But maybe if I’m a good girl, what Santa might very well leave me under the tree this year is a birding field guide to help me out.

A good friend once told me that they only had regular birds where he grew up in Brooklyn. And I kept thinking during my trek around the bayous yesterday, what would Sandy call these birds? Highly irregular birds?

So on my recent coastal advocacy trip to the Chicagoland area, I had the pleasure of spending a little time with the Momster, BigSis and MediumSis. I took this pic with the Momster’s camera and asked her to send it to me. Where was my camera? Um…good question.

Anyway, when I got the email with the photo, I was pleasantly surprised to find a few additional photos attached of the fall colors at what I consider one of the most beautiful places in the world–Gun Lake. So today I want to welcome my first guest photographer–the one, the only, my beautiful Mother. I learned from the best Mommie Dearest (and yes I know some of you think it’s not very nice of me to call my dearest mother Mommie Dearest, but no joke, this is how she signs all of her letters to me!) Thanks Mom! Love you!

…a mission from God. So I wanted to share two more pics from my Saturday afternoon in the City of Big Shoulders, but WordPress was not cooperative this morning. Let’s see if it wants to play nice this evening.

It’s a 106 miles to Chicago, we’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes; it’s dark and we’re wearing sunglasses. Hit it!

And with that, WordPress has decided to stop cooperating. Too bad. Those last two pics I was going to share were pretty cool…but maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

Although not one of my favorite historical figures, I have found this bit of wisdom from Nixon to ring true many times in my life…”Only if you have been in the deepest valley, can you ever know how magnficant it is to be on the highest mountain.” And here are a few shots of the Shenandoah Valley type.

So I’ve been on the road over the last week and still have many miles to go before I sleep (and go fishing). But while I’ve thoroughly enjoyed scenes such as these…

I’m thoroughly missing scenes like these.