By Gerri Hunter

Gravy.  Just typing the word is probably enough to finish this article. 

Humans swoon when they see or hear this word.  This word makes even snooty people groan with pleasure.

When you purchase a nice set of china at a department store, it comes with a sugar bowl, creamer and a gravy boat. 

I have always felt cheated when I look at a gravy boat.  It’s too small.  The word boat suggests a piece of china that can hold lots of gravy.  That’s what human want, too.  Lots of gravy.

Gravy helps you remember your grandmother, great-aunt, mother, siblings, spouse or friend. These special people sat with you at a table, feasting on food prepared with love.

Mothers know how to make gravy.  Gravy comes from the best meat drippings mixed with flour to make a roux.  (French word my mother never knew). Then, liquid is added, the liquid thickens and the aroma of gravy fills the air.

I dream about gravy – especially milk gravy.  Even if you have no sausage to add, milk gravy is still a taste treat. The longer you let the roux brown in the skillet, the more complex the gravy’s flavor becomes.  

Nothing is better for the soul than watching gravy run slowly down a Mt. Everest-sized lump of potatoes, searching for the elusive meat and vegetable on the plate.

If diplomatic negotiations between world powers comes to an impasse, serve homemade mashed potatoes and gravy with fried pork chops, roast beef, fried chicken or fried fish.  There is no problem gravy can’t solve. 

I’ll say it again. 

Gravy.