I then felt his gaze burning into me, his eyes trekked from her head slowly along my body to my eyes. I swiftly turned my head away and looked down to...Ingrid, my face was flushed red. And again my heart beat out of my chest, it was worse than when the bleeper went off earlier. I wondered what the hell was going on, why was Ingrid not afraid of that man. He was well built, and fit, what you would expect of a fireman. From my experiences with the family he was always very well respected by. That 'brown' should be the color of milk chocolate. Here are some hints. Just as the roux is done, you should begin to see some tendrils of bluish smoke coming from the pot. Keep stirring. If you let it sit, it will burn. If it smells burnt, toss it out and start over. S****t happens.When the roux is the right color, "break' it by dumping in your chopped onions (a yellow onion the size of your fist, more or less, and a handful of chopped green onions, often called scallions by the pretentious.. More

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