Part two of two.

Preparing Brussels sprouts, peeling potatoes, washing produce and other odd jobs as the cook sees fit are fine to dole out to friends and family. Roux is a solitary business though. The reason should be obvious; any task that looks simple but requires careful attention is best done without supervision, particularly from well-meaning but ultimately untrustworthy aunts. If necessary, employ a diversion: why, are those potatoes browning too quickly? If a dear aunt still won’t budge, have faith in the making of roux itself: stirring flour into butter really is as mundane as it sounds.

But it is also one of those skills the subtlety of which is easily lost on the observer. The person making roux might as well be painting a shed, an activity that has never attracted an audience. But if the cook loses concentration, overdoing a roux is easily done, as is undercooking one. The former introduces a nutty and deep taste that is occasionally called for, but can be a distraction. The latter leaves a gummy paste tasting of raw flour. A medium roux—a dirty blonde, one might say (not around the aunt though)—is ideal. Achieving the correct level takes patience, but an equal measure of restraint as well.

A well-flavored stock, no matter how carefully made, is never a sauce. A few moments after it has been ladled into a proper roux, however, the purest, humblest of sauces begins taking shape. But its name—gravy—is as loaded with connotation as a good one is with flavor. Poor ones are gelatinous or mealy and taste remotely savory, although few could say what the animal origin is. Others are doctored with all manner of spices and seasonings so as to obscure either lousy stock or meat. These mistakes are particularly regrettable once the real thing is tasted. A good one is velvety, mouth-coating and obviously from the animal it adorns—a harmonious blanket both for the food and the palette.

Roux: Melt a quantity of unsalted butter in a sauce pan, taking care not to scald or brown. Stir in slightly less all-purpose flour than butter until smooth. Continue stirring until the color of straw and redolent of freshly baked brioche. The roux should be flowing but viscous. Do not taste—it will scald badly.

Gravy: Once the roux is ideal, begin ladling in hot stock, stirring constantly with a whisk to maintain a smooth, lump-free consistency. Brandy may be added in small quantities along with the stock, but resist any urge to further season with spices or herbs. Season well with salt. Boil hard for a minute, reduce to a simmer, and continue simmering until desired thickness has been achieved. Strain through a Chinoise or cheese cloth if necessary. Gravy is best served in a pitcher rather than a gravy boat.

Turkey, a lean bird, is an excellent candidate for gravy.