Being from San Antonio I didn't grow up anxiously awaiting crawfish season. I don't even think I knew what a crawfish was up until two years ago. Instead, I grew up looking forward to Fiesta, NIOSA and delicious Christmas tamales. But now that I live in Louisiana, I have found myself among the ranks of many people who desperately anticipate the season of craw daddy's from down South. It has become obvious that crawfish season is upon us.
On numerous occasions while driving down to New Orleans I have seen the crawfish farms, ponds, lakes - whatever they're called. I've learned all about crawfish: how they grow, how they're harvested, how to boil them and even how to eat them. Even still, learning about these critters didn't seem to change my taste buds. That is ... until a few weeks ago.
Two weekends ago I attended my 3rd crawfish boil ever. One of the guys in our small group works as a chef and so I knew if I didn't like his crawfish there would be little hope of my liking anyone else's. That afternoon I put on my big girl pants and I went for it!!! I peeled like a champ! I actually enjoyed the whole adventure of working hard to get a bite size morsel of spicey meat. The potatoes, corn & sausage were a great treat as well. Also, the fact that the sun was shining, I was working on my tan while surrounded by friends didn't hurt the situation either.
All this to say, I was definitely proud of myself for attempting to enjoy another crawfish boil. I guess what they say is true ... 3rd time's a charm!
Grayson working his magic on his pile of crawfish.
The prey! They were so delicious!
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