Jermaine Deon Carter
April 5, 2020
Food for Thought
One afternoon, Princess Tiana and I took a stroll through town together.
"Are you hungry, Jermaine?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Do you want to make gumbo with me?" she asked.
"Yes!" I said.
When we returned to her restaurant, we headed straight for the kitchen. She retrieved a large pot from the cupboard and placed it on the stove. I got a measuring cup from the cupboard, went to the sink, and filled the cup. I poured the water in the pot. I filled up the cup and poured the water in the pot two more times. She grabbed a match, lit it, and turned the stove on. She opened a canister of sea salt and put a few pinches in the water.
She went to the fridge and pulled out some shrimp, tomatoes, carrots, sausages, and chicken leg quarters. She put all the food on the counter before going to the sink and washing her hands. I did the same.
She got two knives from the cupboard. I cut the tomatoes and sausages. She sliced the shrimp and carrots. We each cut up two of the leg quarters.
The water was boiling now. She grabbed some filé powder and tabasco sauce from the cabinet and put dashes of both in the pot. We added the sliced-up meat, shrimp, and vegetables. She got a large, wooden spoon from the cupboard and stirred the gumbo. She then gave me the spoon so I could stir for a few minutes.
She turned the heat down and put a lid on the pot so the gumbo could simmer. We went for another walk while we waited. We were out for about two hours. We talked about how much we enjoyed cooking and hanging out with each other. After we headed back to the restaurant, she took the lid off the pot. The food's aroma wafted through the kitchen.
"Mmm. Gumbo smells good, Tiana!" I said.
"I think it's done, Jermaine," she said.
"Yeah? Are you sure?" I asked.
"Mmm-hmm," she said.
"Absolutely positive?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. She put some gumbo on the wooden spoon and handed it to me.
"Okay. I'm about to put this spoon in my mouth," I said as I put the spoon in my mouth. "Hmm," I said.
"What?" she asked.
"Tiana, this is the best gumbo I've ever tasted! You've got such a special gift," I said. We made our bowls and sat down to eat.
Come November, she and Naveen invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. They went all out. Roasted turkey was the main entrée. The sides included mashed potatoes with gravy, sweet potatoes, squash, sweet corn (including corn on the cob), green beans, dressing, and Brussels sprouts. For dessert, apple pie and pumpkin pie.
"Why don't you say grace, Jermaine?" Tiana asked.
"Oh, I don't know. I don't know what to say," I said.
"Just say what's in your heart," she said. We all held hands.
"Dear God. We just wanted to thank you for this food and bringing us all here together. We're grateful for everything you've done for us and will continue to do for us. In the name of your son Jesus, amen," I said.
"Amen," the others said.
"That was good, Jermaine!" Tiana said.
"Thanks," I said.
Tiana carved the turkey, put some drumsticks on a plate, and handed it to me. Fork and knife in hand, I drooled a little. The others made their plates. We all sat down to eat. A few hours later, we relaxed in the living room. I rubbed my belly because of how stuffed I was.
"Thanks for inviting me over, Tiana," I said as I hugged her.
"I'm glad you could make it," she said.
The following month, Tiana invited me to spend Christmas with her. I helped them trim the tree, put up the other decorations, wrap gifts, and make Christmas dinner. The main course was goose. There were gingerbread, snickerdoodles, and sugar cookies for dessert. Christmas carols played on the radio.
"Thanks for helping out, Jermaine," Tiana said.
"And thank you for having me over again," I said.
"I always enjoy spending time with you. Since we're thanking each other, it's time for me to give you your Christmas gift," she said.
"But, I didn't get you anything. I didn't know what you wanted," I said.
"That's okay," she said.
She pulled me under some mistletoe and kissed me on the lips. My eyes grew wide, and I blushed. I felt flabbergasted.