Introduction by John Hardin
When I was about 5 or 6 yrs old my Father, for the first time, prepared dinner for us. I remember that first meal prepared by my Dad, because he had these little “green finger” looking things that he called okra. He began to sauté onions, garlic and then he added tomatoes. In the end he served us stewed tomatoes, okra and sausage. Little did I know that I was eating food that was passed on to us from our ancestors.
You see this small green pod tells the history of Africans in diaspora, and the love/hate relationship that most of the U.S. has with it reflects that history. It was valuable enough to our forefathers for them to hide the treasured seeds.
Globally, it shows up the caruru of northeastern Brazil and in the callaloo and coocoo of the Caribbean. In the United States, it becomes the thickener in the soups and pilaus of the Carolina Low Country, and it is served up crisp and fried across much of Mississippi. It’s an ingredient in Southern succotashes and reigns supreme in many of the gumbos of New Orleans and South Louisiana.
Our American use of the word okra comes from the Igbo language of Nigeria where the plant is referred to as okuru. It is the French word for okra that takes us to the heart of the matter in Louisiana, because it also harkens back to the Bantu languages but simply uses the final two syllables — gombo.
It is also relatively high in nutritional value — rich in calcium, phosphorus, potassium and iron (who knew!). In the South the pods are dried and strung with shrimp heads, garland-like, to provide seasoning and thickening for roux-less gumbos and soups.
Like the Africans and their descendants who came to revere it in almost totemic capacity, okra does not behave. It is tricky. It cannot be tamed into submission by the cook who does not know how to use it properly.. The distaste for okra is all about the sticky substance that vegetable exudes when cut. The more it’s cut; the more it‘s sticky. In Louisiana folks understand that.
It is said that a squeeze of lemon juice or a bit of vinegar in the cooking water will cut down the stick, but I say let’s stop fighting these mucilaginous qualities. Let okra do its own magnificent thing. After all, it’s only doing what comes naturally.
The method of preparation below is new to me, something I must try. Thank you, Irene for turning me onto this.
Recipe by Irene Edwards
Ingredients
- 1 pound okra
- 1 – 2 tablespoons olive oil
- Salt or Tony Chachere’s Cajun Seasoning to taste
Directions
Step 1
Prepare a gas or charcoal grill for high heat; You should be able to hold your hand about an inch above the cooking grate for just 1 to 2 seconds before pulling it away from the intensity of the heat.
Step 2
Put the okra in a large bowl or on a rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle it with the oil and toss to coat thoroughly.
Step 3
Place the okra on the grill. To make it easier to turn them over on the grill, place 8-10 whole okra pods on two skewers, with the skewers 3-4″ apart. If you use wooden skewers, be sure to soak them in water first. Close the grill cover and cook until the okra’s green color heightens and grill marks or charred edges appear, about 4 minutes on each side. If you are using purple okra, cook until the purple color deepens.
The high heat of the grill gives okra a lightly charred exterior and a tender, not slimy interior. Grilling okra is one of my family’s favorite ways to eat it.