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The only thing this blog loves more than sleuthing scandal is sleuthing food — so much so that we turn over a whole day of the week to the pursuit (and readily mass-migrate to the least mention the rest of the week too, you’ve noticed). Today we mark Foodie Sunday with Catty’s saga of secret ingredients . . .

Something about your recent comments about making chicken gumbo stuck in my brain and I wanted to share something with you that perhaps you already know. But just in case . . .

Having created and run a restaurant in Ocean Springs years ago, I learned many things from the various chefs I employed.

The first cook sounded good when I interviewed him just before we were getting ready to open. But one Saturday night, just three weeks after our trial opening and facing a full house with people lined up all the way out the door, I knew he had to go when as I helped serve plates to waiting diners. I noticed one person got pork chops. We didn’t serve pork chops! But the cook brought in two pork chops for his own dinner that night, and as we started running out of food he just had a waiter ask if the customer wanted some good pork chops and away they went. He was a big guy but I remember that he cried when I told him kindly that he just wasn’t what I needed.

Then I hired a Cordon Bleu Academy-trained chef soon after that. He knew all about food, sauces, reduction of sauces, etc. But I didn’t realize until it we were under the gun on a very busy night that he was cracking under pressure and couldn’t get the food prepared in a timely fashion. Basically he was an alcoholic who hid it well but who started coming in at 4 p.m. reeking of rum. Had to send him packing as well.

Then I got a wonderful, extremely well-trained cook who was very competent. Only thing was he hated the world, and more than anything he hated anyone who said anything less than flattering about his cooking. Always wearing a starched white chef’s coat and tall pleated hat, he sometimes flew into a rage and broke dishes when he became unhappy for whatever reason. He didn’t last long either but managed to win us some awards while he was there.

The next cook was a GOB from Biloxi who had just retired from the Navy as a cook. But he was smart and for several years he really helped me build up the business. (We must not mention that at age 52 he became the father of the 17-year-old assistant cook’s baby. Oh, Lord, what a story there! I should just stop everything and write that book one of these days.)

Getting back to my point: What I did learn from the last cook was that really, really good chicken bouillon or an expensive chicken base can make any dish taste better. I even use it when I cook shrimp dishes and baked crab casserole and especially chicken and dumplings.

When I make gumbo, I season it well but do not add any salt until I have put in the chicken stock (not those hard cubes but the pasty kind you get in restaurant supply houses). After the seasoning and chicken stock is in, then I add salt if any.

I also have learned to add white wine. I like Vermouth or something similiar. We had a wonderful dish at the restaurant, named after my father who created it. We used chopped green onions, seasonings and vermouth to saute shrimp that we served over rice. It was very popular.

The dynamic duo does wonders and wonders for any stew, soup, gumbo, or even sauce. One needs to cook it down so that there is not a hint of alcohol as in a heavy sauce full of liquor (see Steak Diane or Beef Bourguignonne). But just enough to add depth to the gumbo.

I do the same with seafood gumbo but this time I add beef and chicken paste and a good hearty red wine. They rave about my gumbo so I can only take their word. I find myself even doing the duo of bouillon and wine in spaghetti sauce and maybe you shouldn’t tell this part, I could get hanged for this . . . but I also add my duo to Red Beans and Rice.

It must be working cause when we have an approaching hurricane, many gather at my house not only because the house is high on a hill and built like a fortress but as one hurricane guest said to his brother-in-law, “Try to get an invite to her house. She’s a good cook and they have real meals during the hurricane.”

Next time I will tell you about my Lebanese Grandmother’s secret for rice made with pine nuts.