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April 5, 2019 / philosophermouseofthehedge

Steamed. Ready to be tabled

Warning sign of a laundry concerning crawfish cleaning using their washers. Lafayette, Louisiana, 2017. released to free use by author/Infrogmation of New Orleans/Commons.wikimedia.org)

Oh, don’t get hung up on this. (Infrogmation.NOLA/Commons.wikimedia.org)

Twilight Zone. As some rush forward, I look for an exit or a post to cower behind.

Chefs and Bubbas make odd kitchen fellas during crawfish season.

But they cook not for me

Growing up in a household with limited budget, hunting counted as a trip to the grocery store.

Some of the nontraditional entrees were, to me, well, disturbing. Tiny squirrel bones on a plate made me queasy….

Those faces across the dinner table far too similar to the human munchers of the vintage, original, black and white movie “Night of the Living Dead”. Human-shaped beings greedily gnawing – ripping meat off with greasy fingers. They might as well have been drooling wild animals or demented creatures.

The stuff of horror movies and science fiction.

While flinching at tearing apart small bodies or sucking out brains,  I am still fascinated by the Mudbug Culture’s cooking efforts.

Crawfish are not an easy meal to prepare.

Cooks must get creative.

That’s gotta make you smile.

I’ll pass on the mudbugs in favor of civilized knife and fork foods, but will happily join in with the Zydeco and the exuberance.

Never pass up a chance for Joie de vivre.

Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.

Boiled crawfish spread out on table ready to eat. You see ethnic food delicacy, I see scenes from the 1970 film "Night of the Living Dead"...humans greedily gnawing with their moist fingers and sucking out brains... (Ykamo/Commons.wikimedia.org)

You see ethnic food delicacy, I relive gruesome movie scenes. If it’s OK I’ll just scoop out some of the potatoes and a couple of corn cobs…and take them over there – out of eye sight of the slobbering, devouring masses.(Ykamo/Commons.wikimedia.org)

 

14 Comments

Leave a Comment
  1. easyweimaraner / Apr 5 2019 6:46 am

    I feel so super sorry when I see or ponder about the way they land on my plate… but they are too tasty!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • philosophermouseofthehedge / Apr 5 2019 7:00 am

      Sigh. I refuse to eat things I used to dig out of the mud with pointed sticks for fun as a kid…there might some sort of collected memory between kin…and the risk of revenge. HAHA. Trade ya’ my share for your corn/potatoes? Thanks for serving up comment

      Like

  2. Ally Bean / Apr 5 2019 7:25 am

    Yes, I’m not big on crawfish, either. I’ve had some. Lived to tell, but not a fan.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Kate Crimmins / Apr 5 2019 8:20 am

    I could be a vegetarian. When I think of how animals of all sorts are prepped for food, I get really queasy. My mother butchered my pet chicken. It was the end of the summer and she had no intention of housing him inside for the winter which she knew I would have insisted. It was years before I ate chicken again.

    Liked by 1 person

    • philosophermouseofthehedge / Apr 5 2019 8:57 am

      Horrors! I lived on salads, vegetables, and milk when weird food showed up – not a fan of gnawing chicken bones or either. Now science has proved plants are much more aware of what is going on around them and actually makes decisions/shows responses to dangers in their environment – oy vey – soon all that will be left is space food in tubes….oh, well, pass the steak and maybe a hamburger – stuff that isn;’t shaped like it is….like broccoli (they look like little people with weird hair! Sometimes an imagination is dangerous?\ HAHA)
      Appreciate you feeding off this post

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Spinster / Apr 5 2019 3:48 pm

    Same here – can’t eat those.

    Like

  5. Curt Mekemson / Apr 5 2019 6:44 pm

    My brother and I caught crawdads to bring home the the family larder, and also caught frogs and catfish. We even hunted gray squirrels for squirrel and dumpling stew! Have to say, I wasn’t squeamish, Phil. Liver and oysters— now those I could pass on. –Curt

    Like

  6. cindy knoke / Apr 5 2019 10:58 pm

    “Twilight Zone. As some rush forward, I look for an exit or a post to cower behind.”
    This just means you are a really smart person.

    Like

  7. RKLikesReeses / Apr 6 2019 3:00 pm

    No…
    I keep thinking how it would be if what we ate, ate us. Fuzzy lambs crunching on people chops. Lobsters waving their feelers around, eager to snack on human eyeballs. Chickens flicking greasy glops of deeep-fry Botoxed skin. Aaaack.
    Mud? Mudbugs? Didn’t know that! Wow!

    Like

  8. Beth / Apr 10 2019 6:15 pm

    I have never been a crawdad fan, though remember as a kid lowering old coffee cans into creeks with a bit of bacon in hopes of catching one. I’m not sure what we, as kids, thought we’d do with one should it finds it’s way to its meager bacon fat feast. I’m actually glad we never found out, come to think of it. But all of that said, I do love the music, and by me taking a pass that’ll just ensure more brains to suck for everyone else. Eep.

    Like

  9. LordBeariOfBow / Apr 19 2019 10:11 pm

    Must admit I love crayfish, I think that’s what we call crawfish, Used to get plenty of them when I lived in West Aust. along with marrin, that’s a fresh water crayfish, I also loved oysters prawns and crab, anything with a shell on I’d devour, don’t have much of a place to put it in now, so I just stick to prawns,I think that you call prawns shrimp.
    These are tastes I developed after coming to Australia, I don’t recall eating much meat as a boy in England, “There’s a war on” ; I never ate steak til I came here. We had the occasional bunny or chook. my mother kept some chickens and every now and then she’d slaughter the cock stuff it cook it and we were in heaven. She’d then go out by another cock. We had a goose named George once, met the same fate as the cocks, a very sad meal that turned into, George had become quite a pet.

    Liked by 1 person

    • philosophermouseofthehedge / Apr 21 2019 4:12 pm

      We called them crawdads and poked them while messing around the bayou banks…where we were not supposed to be. Your prawns are much larger than our gulf shrimp – but we can pick up prawns at a local fish market – big ones so much easier to put on the grill. Mom and brother were allergic to shell fish, so I didn’t have much until I left home and did my own cooking. Living in New Orleans was heavenly as I could pick up fresh shrimp just down the block anytime….it was only the hurricanes that troubled there. Thanks for a comment of great taste!

      Liked by 1 person

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