Gravy is a hot sauce made by thickening a liquid with a starch.

The liquid can be a broth, the seepings of a roast, milk or cream, fruit or vegetable juice, red wine, white wine, or rosé, even coffee or Coca-Cola.

The starch can be ordinary wheat flour, cornstarch, rice flour, bread, mashed starchy vegetables like potatoes, sweet potatoes, or plantains, or cooked cracked grains like cracked wheat or steel-cut oats.

Here we're going to talk about (wheat) flour gravy.

Many people make gravy only once a year, on Thanksgiving. Gravy from a roast is actually one of the more difficult kinds of gravy, but it's also the most familiar, so let's start there and work backward to a simpler kind.

flour gravy from a roast

When you're buying your roast, let the future gravy waft a suggestion about its composition to you. If it wants a broth, get a little scrap meat in the same family -- a little bit of neck or some scraps of shoulder, or the stuff they sell as stew meat. Turkeys and chickens come with extra goodies to help you make a tasty broth. If you decide to go with a canned or packaged broth, still get something else to goose it up a little, some shallots, or some dried mushrooms, or ... an orange. Something. If you don't want a broth, consider cream, wine, beer, white grape juice, fish sauce. Have a plan.

(My own favorite turkey gravy consists of a broth made from the neck and gizzards, thickened with Wondra fried in turkey drippings, and flavored with a little brandy. I've been thinking recently about a coffee-and-cream gravy I used to make with roast lamb years ago; I'll make it again some time soon. You'll find your own favorite gravies to go with favorite roasts, or perhaps you'll want to do something different every time.)

Now you're home. Much later in this process you are going to need to know what various volumes of fat look like in your roasting pan. So right now while you're thinking about it, spoon a measured Tablespoon of water into the pan and tilt the pan up and sideways so you can see what the water looks like in the corner of the pan. That's one Tablespoon; one Tablespoon is how much fat you need if you want to make a cup and a half of gravy. Is a cup and a half going to be enough gravy? Probably not -- people love gravy, and leftover gravy never goes to waste (see the smalltalk we did on hash). Two tablespoons will give you three cups of gravy. A quarter cup, i.e. four Tablespoons, will give you six cups of gravy. Probably enough for two people, wouldn't you say?

Whatever amount you decide is right, you want to be able to eyeball it. Attempting to measure hot fat in or from a hot roasting pan is a fool's game; you will smart for it. So check yourself with ordinary water in a pan at room temperature. Pour a random amount of water into the pan, turn the pan up, say how much liquid looks to be in the corner, measure the liquid. Don't stop till you can accurately gauge your chosen amount.

Now turn your attention to the actual roast, otherwise known as the excuse for making gravy. Do whatever it is you're going to do to it (I'm a big fan of brining, and I like macerating too), and eventually, when the time is right, pop it into the oven; and then, again in due time, take it out. Roasts, as you may already know, need to rest for a while before you carve them. And while the roast is resting, you make the gravy; a perfect fit.

Warm your chosen liquid -- you already figured out how much -- to a simmer and keep it there.

Pour off or add in enough fat to make the amount you measured out and memorized before. If you need more fat, use butter or rendered lard or olive oil or whatever else you think will contribute to your gravy.

Now the flour. I always use Wondra for flour gravies because it doesn't clump up, and if you're just starting out making gravy I'd advise you to do the same. Once you have the knack, all-purpose flour works fine too.

Sprinkle the right amount of flour (which you have already figured out) into the roasting pan and put the pan over a low flame (or two low flames if it's a big pan) and cook the flour gently, undisturbed, till it turns pale blond.

Now add in the warm liquid a little at a time, and here, you will be pleased to know, you are to stir the whole gently while you are adding the liquid. But stirring is not your only job. You must also be scraping (which is why a pancake turner makes a better tool than a spoon). Using the scraping and the gentle heat to loosen all the delicious tasty bits on the roasting pan is called deglazing the pan.

When the pan is fully deglazed and the thickened liquid is uniform, taste the gravy (which is what you now have) for salt and whatever other flavorings you want to add and let the whole cook below the simmer -- no bubbling, no blurbling -- while you carve the roast and serve it with whatever side dishes you have planned. Then, at last, scrape the gravy into the warmed gravy boat and pass it around for everyone's enjoyment.

lumps

Well, yes. Lumps. They happen to everybody now and then. Don't worry, they're easily repaired. Use the back of a spoon to force the gravy through a fine sieve into a microwavable bowl. Do not go crazy trying to get every last little bit of de-lumped gravy through the sieve. Microwave the gravy (which will be a little thinner than usual) just to heat it through, and serve with a dash of aplomb.

flour gravy from scratch

The two hard parts of making flour gravy from a roast are estimating the amount of fat and deglazing the roasting pan. With flour gravy from scratch you have neither of those tasks to perform. Heat your liquid, measure your fat, measure your flour, fry the flour gently in the fat, add the warmed liquid little by little to the fried flour, stir everything smooth, let the flavors marry over the lowest possible flame, serve in a warmed gravy boat or ... a pitcher.

A pitcher with a ladle makes an especially nice serving piece for gravy because it minimizes the surface exposed to the air, thus reducing although not eliminating the formation of skin. (As a child I was told that I wouldn't like skin when I grew up; like so many things I was told, this has not proved to be true.)

other gravies

Once you have these two gravies mastered, the world opens up to you. English bread sauce, sweet-potato gravy, loose parsnip mash, Sicilian crumb sauce -- keep an eye out and you'll see gravy possibilities everywhere.

A word: Keep electric tools away from gravies, lest you turn them to paste.

Have fun.