Crawfish Memories

Family Bonding...with Crawfish

It's crawfish season again at the Coffin house. On Sundays, father and son drive down to their favorite "shack" and purchase several pounds. They come in a big brown paper bag, tucked inside a white plastic bag then stapled shut.

At home, the Coffin men sit on the porch and eat their feast, often with a zydeco soundtrack to complete the festivities. Along with the crawfish, the bag comes with red potatoes, corn and sausage cooked in the same boil pot. My family is kind enough to share that part with me.

Love crawfish or hate them, most people don't realize what a wonderful tradition they are. They're messy. They're sloppy. They're a lot of work. But they also bring people together.

You can't be in a hurry. Eating crawfish takes time. This process teaches you to settle in and enjoy the moment. You can't play with your cell phone or other gadgets. Eating crawfish requires two hands. The process leads you to converse with those around you. A lost art some might say. Eating crawfish is busy work. The process distracts you from the weight of the world, if only for a meal.

Crawfish are often a group effort. In our house the group is two, but it's quality time. I'm my son has that experience. The food, music and memories of crawfish season are all part of our family's history.