by Vai Helmer

Created on: February 02, 2009   Last Updated: February 06, 2009

Gravy and sauces are the clothing of any dish. I dare anyone to disagree with that statement.

Think about it, throwing your mind back to every cooking program or expensive restaurant you have ever partaken of. Do you remember, with of course minor exceptions, any main courses or starters which lacked a god sauce, or a dazzling of some salt and such? It is the sign of a professional. An aesthetic attribute and a flavour twister so impossibly important that it is barely noticed, contradiction though that may seem.

Think about it, you barely ever notice the ground you stand upon. Don't deny its importance.

So, with that in mind we see the importance of sauces and dressings. Truly the robes of gods and the drab of the pauper. And just like those two images, there is little room for overlapping. When a pauper is seen in a regal robe a presumption could be that he has stolen it, or the king in rags could be being led to an execution. They are not in thier natural clothing.

Enter gravy in two forms. His watery form and his thicker alternative. If we are to see them as clothes for some food we must reason what food they are for. The answer is clear; undelicate meat and anything that can be roasted. Strong flavours all around, and many relying on thier crisp texture to enhance the meal. What would such items be adorned with, the thin or the thick.

Lets consider the merit of thin gravy; it softens slight overcooking, and it does not interfere with the overall flavour of a meal and thus allows the best bits to have thier own merits without forming one great melange of soggy oxo mush. Haha, cries a follower of this creed, a fantastic argument for my cause! Hardly.

It contributes so little to the meal flavourwise that in that departement it is useless. Aesthetically it looks like stagnant pond water, so it doesn't really suit any but the foulest meal in appearance. It softens the texture of slight overcooking, but it can't disguise the charcoal taste. And, true though it may be that it doesn't overpower the flavours, its fair to say that neither would a dribble of water.

Now, our darker steed. It adds a new dimension to the meal wtih its rich flavour, which also masks almost any cooking error. Applied in moderation it won't encumber any tastes but will provide a contrast.

You can't smell watery gravy, it just skulks in a corner, smelling slightly foetid. Thick gravy; the colour! And the smell! The shade and musk of the gods, surely, dragging out an unyeilding tongue to moisten the lips. This with just the thought!

Need I continue? Thicken your gravy you heathens.

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