It's good to have friends. It's infinitely better to have friends who cart back 60 pounds of crawfish from their family farm and invite me over for a spontaneous boil in true convivial Louisiana style.
The subject of the feast were kicking vigorously in their temporary confinement when I arrived at the A's sun-drenched deck. A turkey fryer has been set up a few feet away from the crawfish and were already generating whiffs of the intoxicating spicy low country aroma. C laughed heartily to a guest inquiring whether she kills the crustaceans. "Oh no honey. We don't kill them! We just boiling them"!!! We all fell back in laughter. As always, C's energy and enthusiasm for a good time infected us all in no time and got the party started.
Time passed quickly in merriment. Before we know it, the little things turned bright orange red in the big pot and were transferred to a cooler for more seasoning, which I was asked to add "aggressively." After a few minutes of steaming, we got what we came for - a feast.
For those uninitiated, C gave a hands-on demonstration on proper peeling techniques as well as sucking methods for getting to the tasty brain bits in the head ("with gusto"). (I reserve this space for the lady herself to provide the instructions.) I patted myself on the back for having had the foresight to dress in a red print. This was messy eating at its best and no one should expect to come out unspotted, not unless one intends to have no fun at all. I certainly had fun, having ate for a straight four hours as shells piled up like little mountains in front of me. C and C, the super gracious hosts, never got tired of the boiling, seasoning, and distributing routine. I waddled out of their place to a setting sun, full as a drum and content as the laughing Buddha.