Crawfish, anyone?

Besides the friends and family, there's almost nothing I miss more about Louisiana than the crawfish. I know, you're thinking "Can't you buy crawfish in Houston??" Well, there's a difference between buying frozen crawfish at a grocery store and going out for boiled crawfish at that little Cajun restaurant down the street that has nothing but a roll of paper towels, Tony Chachere's, and Tobasco on the table. There's something quite satisfying about peeling the little mud bugs and wathcing your progress as you pile the shells on your plate. Three pounds of crawfish later and your fingernails are filthy, your lips are burning, but your stomach is quite content. Unfortunately you don't find many Crawfish huts around my part of town, but to make up for the lack, a few evenings ago Dad went ahead and bought the frozen crawfish from the grocery store and we made Crawfish Etouffee together. The flavor was a bit different than usual - my grandma says Mom is the only person she knows who can make Crawfish Etouffee taste Italian =D But it was still quite tasty, and it felt like a little bit of home (even though I pride myself on being a Texan).

Bon Appetit!