The first time I ever had a seafood boil was in Austin, back in the summer of 1995. I wandered into a southern style restaurant armed only with my two fellow road warriors, and a dozen thinly crumpled one dollar bills. We sat down at a giant wooden table, thirsty and tired from spending the morning in the sun. Our server was a middle aged blonde woman who brought us tall glasses of water and large sheets of wax paper. I stared down at the paper, perplexed. I noticed there wasn’t any silverware on the table. After gulping down the glass of water, I took a peek at the menu. Louisiana crawfish, crawfish etoufee, chicken & sausage jambalaya, and chicken and sausage gumbo. I didn’t know what the hell etuufee was, and had never tried jambalaya, so I ordered the crawfish. Ten or so minutes passed by before the server came back to the table with a small tin bucket. She dumped the contents of the bucket on top of the wax paper, and what came out of that bucket was profound. Bright red crawfish, steaming and beautiful, glistened before my eyes. The smell was intoxicating! After savoring the sight of the giant pile of crustaceans in front of me, I began to eat. My life has never been the same.