Crawfish Boilin'

We've had the wonderful opportunity to attend a few crawfish boils since moving here.

Before I moved here, when I thought of crawfish, I would shiver...totally get the heebie jeebies! So weird. The only experience that I had ever had with crawfish growing up was seeing my brother bringing home a bucket of them from the creek near our house in Virginia. He decided to drop them in the fishtank that was kept in my bedroom. Sometime during the night, those crawfish managed to climb the tube to the fishtank filter and escape the tank. The next morning, screams were heard throughout the house, as discoveries of those miniture lobster looking creatures were made....in the bathroom, downstairs in the kitchen, under beds. To this day, there are 2 crawfish still unaccounted for.

But now, I am learning to have a new appreciation for crawfish. The kind you boil. Not the kind you keep as pets.

For the latest boil that we went to, I decided that I was craving some blueberry cobbler, and asked the girls to help make it. Humph....kid cooks are great cooks, but usually the cleanup is a doozie.
When you first arrive at the boil, the first thing you must do is find yourself a beverage of choice. Mine is always Diet Coke. The very next thing you must do is check out the cooler full of specimens that are to be cooked.
And the first thing you must do if you are a kidlet upon arriving at a crawfish boil is play with your food----before it's cooked.
I think what I love about crawfish boils the most, is the atmosphere. The air smells great, people sitting around relaxing and chatting. The kids running around getting filthy and shrieking. Someone usually wisks my Little Apple away, and she is happy and content playing with new people while I enjoy visiting grown ups for a little while. And of course, who doesn't love it when the guys do all the cooking?
When it's time to eat, it's really time to eat. And when you think you are full enough to pop, you loosen your top button on your pants and fill your tray again. My dad, who is visiting from Florida, had the honor of attending this boil, and was brave enough to try a crawfish. I had to peel it for him. He said that his lips were on fire. Which I think is an insane thought. Insane because The Big Apple, who is only 7, ate a huge amount of crawfish. And The Little Apple spent most of the meal whining at me because I wasn't peeling her crawfish fast enough for her to eat. The rule is at a crawfish boil, if you are old enough to eat them, you are old enought to peel your own. I am afraid that The Little Apple would just eat the thing shell and all, so I peeled hers for her. Next year, she's on her own.

The Big Apple peeled her own. Her little friend across the table peeled some for her too. Just because. Love her.
And then there's the Middle Apple, who just doesn't care for much unless it's carbs and fruit. Well, she got her wish. As many hamburger buns, watermelon, cobbler, birthday cake, and icecream as she could hold. I have said this before, and I will say it again. I just love living in Louisiana, I hope that we will get to stay here for a while. I feel like I've found my place and am fitting in nicely.