Okra, the philosopher

We have a lot to learn from Okra.

That's not the way most statements about Okra begin.  I find that people are bitterly divided about it.  "Yuck, it's so slimey," is one side of the argument.  "You've never had it deep fried," is the other side.  And then there are the converts, "I thought it was just a gooey green ingredient in gumbo until I had it grilled and dipped in sour cream."  Okra's first, and perhaps most fundamental lesson is:  Just try it.  Life is filled with things that at first whiff or taste can challenge our sensibilities.  If your first exposure to Okra was as the viscosity-provider for gumbo, you might not believe that it might be the vegetable equivalent to fried calamari.  Just try it.  Yes, it's slimey when sliced and diced.  Yes, when added to a pot it can look like airplane glue.  Take a deep breath, let it simmer, and soon the airplane glue disappears and you'll have a thick tasty stew made more tasty by the tender green nuggets that moments ago horrified you.  Just try it.  You might surprise yourself.

Buying Okra can be daunting.  Years ago I would go to the Farmer's Market and have to battle with the Laotian women combing through bushels of Okra to find the smaller, tender pods; ideally should the size of thumb knuckle.  Inevitably, I would lose out and end up with index finger-sized pods.  One can occasionally find Okra at Whole Foods or equivalent foodie palaces, but usually it looks a bit bruised and wilted.  Frozen is an option, frozen Okra works best in stews.  The lesson of sourcing Okra is: Do it Yourself.

Growing Okra brings rich rewards.  The first reward is purely visual.  Okra flowers are lemon yellow with a dark brown center and a defined pistil & stamen.  They look like hibiscus.  They bloom every morning and fade and wilt before the afternoon.  The lesson of the Okra flower:  Get up early and enjoy the morning.

The real rewards of growing Okra are culinary, but to reap the rewards requires discipline.  Ignore Okra, and the pods grow into giant, tough, inedible green missiles.  Harvested daily, your options for the tender pods are endless.  Small pods can be grilled or dry-fried, then eaten as an appetizer.  They can be sauteed with onions, tomatoes, and peppers for an instant vegetable gumbo.   They can be sliced or thrown in whole into any soup or stew.  Harvesting the small pods takes a good eye.  After a first round of snipping off the obvious pods, the four foot high Okra plants can seem picked clean.  This is the lesson of the Okra plant:  Look again.  Use a different angle.  Pull the plants aside.  Look from the bottom.  Look from the top.  Okra, and life, will give you rewards if you take a deep breath and change your perspective.

The final lessons of Okra are in the pan and on the plate and echo our first lesson: Just try it.  This odd little green pod, filled with seeds and slime, can deliver delight.   Just try it.  And try it a few different ways.  Variety is a good thing.

Grilled okra
Rinse okra.  Put on a grill.  Turn when slightly brown and blistered.  Turn again.  Toss with some salt and serve dipped in sour cream. (Variation:  Dry fry them in a cast iron skillet with a little oil.)

Instant veggie gumbo
Sautee onions and red pepper.  Add okra, either sliced or if small pods, whole.  Add chopped tomatoes.   Cook until okra is fork-able.

Senegalese stew
Sautee onions and red pepper.  Add diced chicken and cook through (or use left over roasted chicken).  Add okra and cook until tender.  Add chicken stock and simmer.  Take a cup of chicken stock and mix with peanut butter.  Add to stew.  Simmer.  Serve with diced tomatoes as a garnish.