When you know you did not marry a bayou boy

by Katie on April 19, 2012


It is well known Brandon and I came from very different places. I mean, I’m pretty sure when you look up the word “swamp,” the antonym listed would be “desert.” (If it’s not, it should be.)

Along with these geographical and climatic differences, significant cultural differences exist.

Examples of each:

  • Upon moving here, I had never encountered a gopher. I really didn’t know what they were. Now, I know. Boy, do I ever know.
  • Brandon had no clue I would be able to register even the slightest elevation change. (Because when you live at “Zero,” 1000 feet seems like you climbed Mt. Everest.)
  • I did not understand the significance of a green chili. I was all about my jalapenos, let me tell you, but I was happy to welcome a new pepper into my life.
  • Brandon was unfamiliar with the term “suck the heads,” when referring to seafood consumption. My brother Mason demonstrated.
  • The boy had never heard of a boudin ball. That right there is a travesty, folks.

Anyway, when I traveled to Texas back in March, Brandon had me purchase some fresh, catch-of-the-day Texas Gulf shrimp while I was there and bring them back to the desert so we could occasionally indulge ourselves in actual fresh, open-water seafood.

We have already eaten one five-pound bag, and are on our second.

Glorious days, I tell you.

So earlier this week, I was preparing some of the shrimp for use in a recipe. Brandon came through the kitchen as I was peeling and deveining, and was standing there, admiring our bounty.

“Hey, aren’t these straight-tail shrimp bad?” he asked, “There’s a lot of them in there. Don’t we need to throw them all out? We got jipped!”

And that right there is when I clearly remembered I was married to a desert dweller; not a bayou boy.

“Dear, that’s crawfish you’re thinking of,” I gently answered, “And it’s because you cook them live. If they come out of the cooker with a straight tail, it means they were dead before they went in, which is bad. But do any of these de-headed, raw shrimp look either cooked or alive to you?”

I’m just glad we covered that information while we were safely here in Arizona and not back in Texas.


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