Despite my mother’s Southern roots, I’ve never had crawfish. Texas ≠ Louisiana and, apparently, there are some gaps in my knowledge and experience of Southern food. Having Emily with me filled those gaps. Also, she is very entertaining and I need to be constantly entertained.
Waiting, waiting, waiting for the restaurant to finally open was agony: I love me a hot beef injection.
As my mom always said, “It isn’t good unless it’s dripping down your elbows.” (You can see where I get my class from.)
I tend to stretch my birthday from the actual date through the weekend following it, or from the weekend preceding it to the actual date, as was the case this year. Unfortunately, because my birthday was on the Monday, that meant that my birthday weekend was only a three-day weekend, which is not as good as when my birthday falls on a Wednesday.
I swallowed…but I didn’t like it.
The waitress came by a few minutes after the food was served to ask, “How are the first few bites?” I pointed at my half-empty plate in shame and said, “The first few bites were obviously delicious.”
What tastes better than fat? Fat and beef, that’s what.