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The smell of boiled crawfish filled the Louisiana kitchen, mixing with steam rising from the big silver pot. The wooden table was covered in newspaper, already stained with seasoning, and piled high with bright red crawfish, steaming potatoes, and golden corn.
Gage sat on his knees, eyes wide as he stared at the mound of crawfish in front of him. His little brother wiggled in his high chair, smacking the tray while Daddy leaned back with a grin, beer in hand.
Momma rolled up her sleeves. “Alright, cher, time to learn how to peel a crawfish.”
Gage hesitated. “What if I mess up?”
Momma laughed, grabbing a fat crawfish. “Ain’t no wrong way, long as you get the meat out. But I’ll show you the right way.”
She held the crawfish up. “First, grab it where the head and tail meet—right here. Now twist.”
With a quick motion, she popped off the head. “Some folks suck the head for the good juices.”
Gage gagged. “Ew, no way!”
Daddy chuckled. “More for me, then!”
Momma shook her head, smiling. “Alright, suit yourself. Now, pinch the end of the tail, squeeze a little, and pull.”
She slid out the perfect piece of meat and dipped it in butter. “See? Easy.”
Gage copied her, his fingers fumbling at first—twist, pinch, pull. Out came the juicy meat. “I did it!”
Momma clapped. “That’s my boy! Now try it.”
He dipped it in the butter and took a bite. His face lit up. “Mmm! That’s good!”
His little brother babbled, reaching for the pile. Daddy laughed. “Looks like we got another crawfish lover.”
The kitchen filled with laughter as they peeled and ate, passing corn and potatoes around. Gage wiped his hands and reached for another. “Momma, I think I’m getting good at this.”
Momma ruffled his hair. “Told you, cher. Crawfish season ain’t just about eatin’. It’s about family.”
And that night, under the warm glow of their Cajun kitchen, Gage became a true crawfish peeler.
★★★★★5.6
