Something Different [a tale of two crawfish]

It’s been a pretty successful week in the progress of our food cart project!

Luckily, there are people in this world who know how to use really amazing cameras and somehow make people like me look decent. And for that, I’m thankful.

It’ll be a little bit before we officially launch our Kickstarter page — we have a few more things to iron out and should have it up within the next month.

In other news, I’ve been scouting.
Well, I’ve been eating.
Portland has a few really good Southern eateries. One being “My Brothers Crawfish” way out on 82nd and Harrison in Southeast PDX. They served a happy hour menu all day Sunday, so we were pretty stoked to check it out.
I must say, it was really, really good.

They serve crawfish fresh off the boil. Generally, they ship in Louisiana crawfish, but when we asked, they were serving Oregon crawfish. It was  interesting to compare the different styles. When I first moved up here, any time I brought up crawfish, people would tell me how they used to find them in creeks and rivers and what not. I thought it was neat, but there’s no purpose in cooking crawfish unless you can have 4-5lbs for yourself, ya know??

Oregon crawfish are gigantic! I mean, the biggest I’ve ever seen. Their shell is way harder — mostly from the colder water, I believe. They do taste a little different, but still have that muddy shellfish taste we love so much.

I tried a few other dishes…fried green tomatoes, etouffee, cornbread and it was all pretty good. 

It sort of hit me in the face that I was going to have to do something different. I dare not mess with the classics, but it seems every cajun/creole joint in town does it all the same. Granted, they are different versions of the same thing, but I feel as though people will want something more. I really want to reach back and discover what made the South so notable.

I want to create dishes that are memorable, but straight forward. I think that’s the best food you can make.

Honest food.

So, I will put my spoon in the pot and stir until I get it just right. Because that’s what people remember.

And doing this always, remembering where I came from.

Because whether it’s from Oregon or Louisiana…

…you’ll still be lickin’ your fingers.

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