Weekend Picks: The southern comfort of crawfish culture

Mar. 30—Here's a stat I doubt has ever been tracked — when's the last time a crawfish was eaten in southeast Wyoming?

Furthermore, is there a single living crawfish in Wyoming?

I suppose neither question really matters now, because there's going to be plenty of dead crawfish this weekend.

The Railspur is hosting its inaugural Crawfish Broil on Sunday, and I'll tell you one thing — I intend to devour my fair share. I only wish we had the weather to match it.

I connect the hearty spice of fresh crawfish, quartered potatoes and corn with the dense humidity of northern Mississippi, along with the nostalgic lingering stench (and taste) of cheap light beer.

The southern states go crazy for crawfish — the chip brand Zapp's has a kettle chip flavored after crawfish seasoning, and Jackson, Mississippi, even hosts an entire festival celebrating Southern crawfish culture.

Like many Southern food traditions, crawfish broils are more about the social event surrounding the food than they are about the food itself, though the sloppy, delectable food is essential. In SEC country, crawfish are served by the pile, with fraternities, bars and events dumping buckets of the crustaceans in one massive heap for people to ravage through like heathens.

Fill up a plate, grab a roll of paper towels, and gather 'round for a day of drinking, feasting and, often, baseball beneath the sun.

First-timers might be uncomfortable ripping a small, somewhat innocent crawfish to bits, but I promise you'll overcome any sense of guilt after the first bite.

Beer is not only suggested, but practically required if you're eating good crawfish, as it's the best remedy for the flavorful burn. You won't appease your appetite by eating crawfish — my friends and I would usually order two pounds each — but, again, that's not really the point.

Like I said, the best part about a crawfish broil is the social aspect.

While I've had them in bars, a fraternity house, parks and, oddly enough, a collegiate tennis match, the best I've ever had was in a town called Water Valley, Mississippi.

Water Valley is a lot like one of the small towns you'd find in Wyoming, except for an abundance of lush kudzu, cypress trees and tall white Methodist churches surrounding the small north-central Mississippi community.

At the end of the town's short, but endearing main street is the Crawdad Hole, a regional renowned institution that operates solely through drive-through and walk-up service from what was once a gas station.

This is a very, very good sign.

In my experience, the best Southern food comes from either what is effectively a shack, a gas station or any restaurant where the interior decor consists of the local high school's team photos, none more recent than 2003. You're in especially good hands if the hostess calls you "baby," if your server is one of the local kids, or if the cook is behind the flat-top with nothing smaller than a 9mm handgun on their hip.

Here's another tip — if people flood to a restaurant in their full Sunday suits and sundresses after church lets out, that's probably where you should eat.

And at Crawdad Hole, you can order five pounds of crawfish for around $25. If I remember correctly, they'll throw some shrimp and crab legs in there, too, if it's in season.

That Saturday afternoon trip, I remember well. My friends and I found a park bench off the main street, pleasant and still, and ate pound after pound of lobster-sized crawfish.

I remember the spice stinging the few open hangnails on my fingers, my shirt sticking to my back in the heat, but more than anything else, I remember laughing with my friends, knowing that we would all soon be moving on in our lives, and consequently, farther away from one another.

In reality, I doubt we considered anything beyond cracking our crawfish's tails and pulling as much meat as possible. Or, even more likely, the fact that we forgot to bring drinks to wash them down.

I thank the crew at Railspur for taking a shot on this, because I think the people of Cheyenne need it.

Now, if only someone in the American West would give catfish a shot. That would be a cause for celebration.

Also a cause for celebration is the unveiling of the GROUNDED Art Show at the Wyoming State Museum tonight at 6. This opening reception will also feature a drum circle, dancers and a 'ceadering,' a Native American blessing ceremony. In a second part to the event, a statue of Chief Washakie will be commemorated on the corner of 19th Street and Capitol Avenue at 9 a.m. the following morning.

Friday night, the Cheyenne Civic Center is hosting a "House Party" event, where residents can experience the newly installed sound system for themselves with the help of a special guest DJ.

That same night, Cheyenne Little Theatre Players' "Accomplice" will begin its final weekend at the Historic Atlas Theatre, with a dinner theater option available Saturday night. The production, geared toward more adult audiences, is a subversive whodunnit with mature themes and a veteran cast.

Saturday morning features an installment of the beloved Wyoming State Museum Family Day, the perfect outing for families with young children. This month's theme, "Earth Extravaganza," focuses on environmental problems surrounding plants, animals and resources.

There's the aforementioned Crawfish Boil at Railspur on Sunday morning, where $15 will get attendees a pound of crawfish.

Finally, on Tuesday evening, the second Racial/Ethnic Bias community conversation will be held in the Laramie County Library. Hosted by Braver Angels, the event will continue the exploration of our community's key differences and attempt to bridge the gap between us.

Will Carpenter is the Wyoming Tribune Eagle's Arts and Entertainment/Features Reporter. He can be reached by email at wcarpenter@wyomingnews.com or by phone at 307-633-3135. Follow him on Twitter @will_carp_.