Heads or tails?

Whether with shrimp or crawfish, here’s how to celebrate Mardi Gras in Tulsa

Decades of literature and lore have painted me a mental scene that always comes to mind around this time of year, in which some hungry eater with a crackle-shelled creature stuck in the back of its mouth sucks the veiny brains out of the top in the name of tradition. 

It’s not as barbaric as it sounds, but it seems there is certainly a very right and very wrong way to participate in a crawfish boil—especially around Mardi Gras.  

I am in an enduring love affair with New Orleans. I think it started when I first saw “The Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood.” With its big band jazz parades, zydeco culture, and anything-goes mentality, the cinematic portrayal of Louisiana (and the New Orleans Mardi Gras, by extension) made it seem like a place of unparalleled festivity. My first visit to New Orleans confirmed as much. Upon landing, we headed for Casamento’s on Magazine Street—a small, ten table-type place with a long, wrap-around line, and an even longer reputation for being a choice place for po’boys—oyster, shrimp, and of course, crawfish. 

The wait paid off. We gorged ourselves on chargrilled oysters and crisped pillows of New Orleans baguettes stuffed full of fried shrimp, with pickles and good mayonnaise lobbed over the top, and crunched Zapp’s Voodoo chips with gulps of pre-mixed hurricanes in between bites. I had found a new home in Cajun food, and with crawfish, specifically. 

Crawfish were a staple of Native American and European diets, but gained their notoriety as a favored Cajun food in late 1800s Louisiana.

The freshwater crustaceans are the poor man’s lobster, perfect for when you just can’t stomach market price, or shell out $40 a tail. Crawfish, or ‘mudbugs,’ boast a slightly murkier taste than finer shellfish. But they soak up the flavors that they’re simmered in nicely, and are incredible in a rich roux or stew. 

When it comes to the classic crawfish boil, there’s a decent amount of work involved in eating them.

You’ll want to grasp it at either end like a Chinese finger trap, a thumb and finger on the head, three fingers on the tail. Give it a firm twist, pull the head and tail apart, then suck the juice out of the head. Expect innards simmered in a frothy mix of whatever you boiled the crawfish in—Cajun spices, cayenne, butter and garlic, and a subtle note of spice.  

While there’s no substitute for cracking and sucking shells down at the New Orleans Mardi Gras, several places in Tulsa get pretty damn close. For gumbo and a real New Orleans Po’boy, visit Chris and Amanda West at Lassalle’s Deli downtown. With a new, larger location, they’ve managed to shave off some wait time for the line of salivating patrons patiently waiting for po’boys. If time is money, it’s a small price to pay for authentic, premium po’boy sandwiches served on real, flown-in, bayou water-baked bread. 

Cajun Ed’s/ Hebert’s Meats is Tulsa’s unofficial headquarters for crawfish hauls, with heaps of the squirming critters starting at $4.95/lb. Grab a sack and throw a crawfish boil at home, or indulge with a steamed basket in the restaurant. And to commemorate the conclusion of the Mardi Gras season, pick up one of Cajun Ed’s King Cakes. 

Sam’s Southern Eatery has all the southern bayou staples, like nuclear power plant-sized fried shrimp and hush puppies with homemade tartar sauce. The facade belies the quality inside, as their baskets are full of fried goodness perfect for Mardi Gras, or any old Tuesday. 

Doc’s Wine & Food offers a high-society take on mudbugs. Theirs usually show up in Étouffée that boasts a flavor just this side of spicy, with dollops of crawfish and bell pepper scattered throughout the smothered stew. It’s a staple on the menu, but Doc’s shines an even brighter light on crawfish come springtime, when the annual Mardi Gras celebration draws patrons in for small plates specials like creole nachos, and $3 Abitas or $6 Hurricanes to wash it down. If the fuss and frills of a white tablecloth establishment serving crawfish doesn’t compute, pop in on May 20 for the annual crawfish festival and indulge in all you can eat cray—bibs and all. 

If a boil with less labor sounds better, there’s the Fassler Hall Mardi Gras shrimp boil, happening February 28th from 4pm to close. $15 will get you a pound of shrimp with all the fixins—corn, new potatoes, and Andouille sausage.

For more from Megan, read her article on dining solo on Valentine’s Day.