One Gravy to Rule Them All

It started with my first co-Thanksgiving with the Gerbers, when it was revealed that Gram Gerber, maker of the gravy, was not there, and so, no gravy would be forthcoming. Falling back on my knowledge of pan sauces, I gave it a shot, with decent results.

The next year, I had a plan: I went onto Cooksillustrated.com and researched a short-cutty gravy methodology. And good thing, because living with MG had already started to atrophy my knowledge of pan sauces. (You would not believe the number of things I could make from memory before I started dating Michael and his miscellaneous allergies. I could do a hollandaise with one hand tied behind my back, as long as somebody helped me crack the eggs.)

Now, it's like the spawning of the salmon. I cannot be stopped. Even when, say, we're actually eating over at the neighbors and the turkey roasting away in #403 is just for MG's own personal consumption. Even then, I will leave a pot of giblets to simmer while we're out. We come back and I start to wonder, *could* you make a roux with corn starch? (Corn being the one grain that doesn't hammer MG's digestive tract like a Viking.) And hey, I've got nothing else to do while the turkey is cooling, why not deglaze the pan with some white wine? Eight or nine strainings later, and voila: A quart of dark brown gold.

It is so, so good. Oh lord.

Is it possible for us to skip kids and just have gravy instead? I mean, would anyone really mind?