Choupique Crawfish, Louisiana

Cameron Prairie National Wildlife Refuge, LA: Click to enlarge.

My visit to Choupique Crawfish was a highlight of my trip to the South.  It is a drive-through takeout restaurant serving boiled crawfish and shrimp with potatoes and corn on the cob. After a busy day exploring the swamps of the Cameron Prairie and Lacassine refuges, I stopped for gas.  Across the parking lot I noticed a small building signed as Choupique Crawfish.  I walked in, curious to see what it was.  A fancily dressed young woman greeted me and showed me around as if I were an old friend.  She was accompanied by a young man and another woman, the owner.  The four of us chatted like family as they explained the operation and treated me to samples.  The crawfish are collected in large numbers from the family’s rice farm and stored live in large plastic and metal water tanks until they are boiled. The owner also teaches at the local school.  Customers can buy the crawfish live or cooked, and can reserve ahead of time.  To eat the crawfish, which are served whole, one must peel away the shell and tear the meat from the tail.  No one corrected my technique, so I assumed I was doing it right.

Cameron Prairie National Wildlife Refuge, LA: Click to enlarge.

The group wondered if I was fishing on the refuges, but I explained I was just hiking and watching the animals.  “I’m from Colorado and all this is very exotic to me,” I said.  When I explained that I didn’t know where to stay for the night, the young man tipped me off to Holly Beach on the Gulf of Mexico.  Before I left, the owner said “let me give you dinner,” and returned with a large box containing at least 10 pounds of crawfish with several potatoes and cobs of corn.  The young woman then handed me a box of beautiful cooked shrimp.  I camped near the surf, where I enjoyed this unexpected gourmet meal.

By the next morning I was still stuffed from eating the crawfish, and more than half of the box remained.  I offered my leftovers to a group of 6 senior citizens gathered for a picnic.  They were bewildered as to why I couldn’t handle 10 pounds of crawfish, plus the shrimp plate and sides, on my own.  “You must not be from around here,” a man said.  I confirmed that was true.  A grandmotherly woman told me that she had eaten a 10-pound box of crawfish by herself the night before, and still had plenty of room for a nice dessert.  She spoke in a tone that seemed to imply I was a sissy, a lightweight.  As one who usually out-eats my companions by a wide margin, I got a huge kick out of this group taking me to task.  The important thing was that they were happy to take the crawfish before it spoiled.