Cajun Gumbo – Extra-Dark Roux, Duck & Andouille | One-Pot Louisiana Classic

Make real Cajun gumbo at home: we cook an extra-dark lard roux, cool it with the Holy Trinity, then load the pot with smoky Andouille and slow-braised duck legs for authentic one-pot flavour. All you need is a cast-iron pot, 45 min for the roux, and three hours of hands-off simmering to get that legendary Louisiana taste.

🍲 *Ingredients (Serves 6–8)*
• 4 duck legs (skin-on, bone-in)
• 300 g smoked andouille sausage, sliced
• 165 g lard (for roux; slightly more than 1:1 fat-to-flour)
• 150 g plain flour
• 2 medium onions, finely chopped
• 2 green bell peppers, chopped
• 3 celery sticks, chopped
• 4 garlic cloves, crushed
• 2 bay leaves
• 1½ tsp salt (or to taste)
• ½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 1½ tsp cayenne pepper (adjust to taste)
• 2 L water (or enough to cover)
• Cooked white rice, to serve

🔥 *Method*

1. Pre-Render the Duck Fat:
Preheat the oven to 160–170°C. Place duck legs on a tray, skin-side up, and roast for 45 minutes to gently render fat without searing. Alternatively, render skin-side down in a cold pan over low heat until a good layer of fat releases.

2. Make the Extra-Dark Roux:
In a heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, combine 165 g lard with 150 g plain flour. Stir constantly over medium-low heat for 30–45 minutes, until the roux becomes dark chocolate brown—deeply nutty, almost black, just shy of burnt. Take your time. This step defines the gumbo’s depth.

3. Add the Holy Trinity:
Once you’ve reached the desired roux colour, reduce heat and immediately stir in the chopped onion, celery, and green bell pepper. Continue stirring for 10 minutes to soften the vegetables and infuse them with the smoky roux. Add the crushed garlic last to prevent burning, followed by the bay leaves.

4. Build the Gumbo:
Add the roasted duck legs and sliced andouille sausage directly to the pot. Sprinkle in cayenne pepper, salt, and black pepper. Gradually pour in about 2 litres of water (or enough to cover), starting with ice water if possible to slow the temperature rise and preserve emulsion.

5. Simmer Gently:
Bring to a gentle simmer, partially covered, and cook on low for about 3 hours. The duck should be spoon-tender and the broth glossy and rich. In the last 30 minutes, remove the lid and allow the gumbo to reduce slightly. Skim excess fat if necessary.

6. Final Touches & Serve:
Remove the duck legs, shred the meat, and return to the pot. Adjust seasoning with extra salt or cayenne to taste. Serve hot over plain steamed rice with a cold beer or sweet tea.

📝 Notes
• No stock, filé powder or okra needed—the long simmer and duck collagen create body naturally.
• The roux has minimal thickening power but maximum flavour—don’t rush it.
• Lard is historically accurate and adds savoury depth, but duck fat is equally authentic.

____

*Follow us on Instagram:* https://www.instagram.com/w2kitchn/
*Join us on Patreon for behind-the-scenes & more:* https://www.patreon.com/W2Kitchen

#W2Kitchen #gumbo #cajuncooking

Look at this texture, my God. Today we’re making Cajun Gumbo, staying true to its roots
so you can make it your own. We start with the famous extra dark roux. A bit more than 1:1 fat to flour ratio, just to make the mixing a bit more fluid. We melt some lard, traditionally the fat of choice, which will also give us
some subtle sweetness, but you can use
any high smooth point neutral oil. Flour goes in and we mix. In the 1700s, the Cajuns brought the technique
of roux making to Louisiana. A French roux back in the day
was typically pale or blonde, used in classic sauces
like bechamel or velouté. What happens in a traditional French roux is that the fat starts to coat the flour and in turn coating
each starch granule of the flour, preventing clumping and cooking the flour to various degrees
of doneness or various flavours. When you do introduce the liquid,
the starch starts to swell, gelatinising, thickening the sauce in the process. In Louisiana, this evolved
partly due to what was available while game, partly due
to the lack of dairy, no butter, but mostly the need for flavour in a rustic one-pot dish took over wood fires. Until it burns, the darker the roux,
the more flavour. The browning brings steep,
roasted, nutty flavour to the roux. But also, the darker the roux, the less thickening power. Heat breaks down starch so we can forget about
all the fancy terms we just mentioned. In the 1800s, gumbo in New Orleans evolved
to include okra, its namesake, tomato, seafood, and filé powder. Gumbo in Louisiana stayed
with the deep roux and one-pot practice. In the 1900s, the dark roux became extra dark, maximum flavour,
almost no thickening power. I suspect partly because cast iron became more readily available and cooks had more control
to take it further. I mean, imagine having
to do this with wood fires. And precisely because of control, we have the holy trinity next to us prepped and ready to cool down
the pan anytime. Once again,
evolved from the French mirepoix, we have the onion,
which would give us the backbone, subtle sweetness, the celery,
which would give us the herbal notes, and the green bell pepper,
giving us the wonderful earthy sweetness. Now we have the creole gumbo colour, let’s take it to Cajun. Once you’re nearly there, you lower the heat
and let the residual heat of the cast iron take you there to have more control. You can take this further, just mindful of my smoke detector. The holy trinity very carefully
and away from you goes in. It is very important to not declare victory just yet. You need to keep stirring to cool down the bottom of the pot to make sure it doesn’t burn. You breathe, and you allow the residual heat
to rapidly evaporate the water content of the holy trinity, concentrating those flavours
we mentioned earlier, and for them to take on
the smokiness of the beautiful dark roux you spent the last 30-60 minutes
working on. Once calmness has somewhat been restored, we crush a few garlic cloves to give us some savoury depth
and later some caramelised sweetness, and we do it in this order to not burn the sugar content
from the garlic. Bay leaves go in
slightly earlier than usual just to get
the fat-soluble flavours activated. I’m keeping it simple, a bit of cayenne pepper
just for some heat. Now we add our water, even though eventually this would have
almost minimal thickening power. Before it’s cooked down, we still do it gradually. Ice water to buy us a bit more time. Now, we have a base that is
quite close to the olden days, let’s talk protein. So what was used? Wild game: rabbit, squirrel, duck, fresh sausage made from pork trimmings, all of which extremely collagen-rich. No amount of supermarket chicken
could replicate that. Of course,
I’m not asking you to catch a squirrel or ditch the extremely tasty
andouille sausage, but in the home kitchen, to mimic those flavours
and the amount of collagen, we use duck legs. As much as I want
to keep this truly one pot, with farmed duck legs, you have to have to render out
the fat before adding to the pot. Staying true to the Cajun tradition,
we’re not searing them, merely keeping them
in the oven at 160-170°C for about 45 minutes. Duck legs in. Save this for potatoes, and we have our smoky andouille. Top up with water. Season generously with salt. Black pepper. And we simmer until tender, about three hours. After three hours, you can see
the roux has become much thinner, barely coating the back of the spoon. But we also know
the collagen from the duck has broken down
and our pot is now full of gelatine. So we simply let this
reduce without the lid for another half an hour. This way, you have a lot more control and you don’t have
to mother your pot for half a day. After half an hour, we have one
of my favourite dishes of all time. This is “Thank you very much, Louisiana.” [bell rings]