I used to catch crawfish when I was kid in the ditches out in the country. (I was a tomboy delux) I would only catch a couple at a time and normally would get pinched. I’d scream like a girl and throw them back.
Later in college when my husband was working at Curt Gowdy, we accidentally came upon the crawdads living there. We discovered that they were slow and easy to catch after the sun went down and would always come toward light. Headlights were bought. Traps were set. Hundreds were caught. Now, I know, they aren’t much compared to southern cuisine, but it’s the fun of it. I don’t hunt for them anymore. I leave that up to the boys. (It’s my one night of the summer where I can do whatever I want at home without having to answer one single question about dinosaurs or superheros)
Crawfish boils have become a tradition at our house every summer. Under the twinkle lights. It is normally are followed by a long night of loud, obnoxious card playing in which I am normally accused of cheating.
Which I don’t.
Most of the time.
This year was no exception.
We had wonderful spicy food.
Wonderful sweet food.
And wonderful company.
Jack salad has become a tradition as well at these events.
It’s a salad that well… you just can’t jack up. It tastes great no matter what.
The key ingredients…cabbage, vinegar, oil, bacon, onion and jalapenos. Mix them to taste. However hot, sour or bacon-y you want. We don’t have a single year that goes by that someone will ask for the recipe.
Song: Summer Time, Billy Holiday (Organcia Remix) (Not the greatest version, but you can find it on itunes as well)
This song has always reminded me of Lousianna.