Feeling Crabby

Ok, so as you may have noticed by now, I like to share my food experiences with you. While I would like every food experience to be fascinating, delicious and educating, sometimes they just turn out to be bad...real bad. It's not that I don't expect these things to occur, it just so happens that the unenjoyable food event that took place this weekend turned out to be a two day event. After such an event, all I can muster is to say "What were they thinking?"
DAY ONE: Let me give you a little background info so you can fully appreciate this story. Lauren's dad Malcolm and his wife Sue fly in Friday evening to witness two close friends of theirs renew wedding vows after 20 years of marriage. Nice event and even local, so Lauren, Viv and I are also invited. The event is small and is being held at St. Mary Magdalen church, with the reception to take place in the rectory. This should have been the first sign of questionable things to come. We arrive, people are great and the food laid out has been provided by a local caterer. Now, as I mentioned this was a small event, so food expectations were low to begin with. Well, on the food table are a variety of aluminum foil serving containers with different hot dishes that all amazingly were the same color. Pecan crusted catfish, gumbo, crawfish etouffee and some sort of beef dish. Sounds ok right? Well, I couldn't tell which dish was which because they were all the same shade of brown, and what I did taste had very little flavor. Ok, so maybe you're thinking at this point I may be a bit of a food snob, but it wasn't until later events that I developed my disappointment. The fact that I was at a wedding in New Orleans and the food was very unappetizing was forgiveable because over the course of the evening we were also invited to a party for the happy couple that was taking place on Saturday at a beautiful home on Lake Catherine. There was talk of boiling seafood and softshell crab, out on the lake...ok, now we're talking.
DAY TWO: We arrive at lake house just after 2pm. We are greeted very nicely and as we are taking a tour of the house and climbing the grand staircase, we can't help but notice on the kitchen counter all the same food that was so universally avoided the night before, on display yet once again, in the same ugly, aluminum containers, yes a day later. It's one thing to serve bad food at a nice celebration once, but it borders on terrible idea to do it again the next day, to the same people no less. But needless to say we remained hopeful. There was big talk of boiled crabs and I even noticed the pot resting over the propane fire when I walked in. So I go to observe, just so I can feel better about the whole situation. The crabs go in, the seasoning goes in. Some onions, some celery. Uh oh, no potatoes, corn, sausage, artichokes or lemon. I chalk it up to the fact that not everybody has seafood boils the same way. Boy, was that ever an understatement. The crabs boil for a while then our host turns the gas off to let them sit for a bit to absorb the seasoning. Our mouths are watering and we are ready to get our hands dirty and crack some claws. So we wait patiently, and we wait, and we wait. Then its as if our host has disappeared altogether. Oh wait, there he is! Way down at the end of his pier, working on his boat so he can take his guest out for a ride on the lake. Working on your boat!?!?!? Good crabs have died and are now absorbing an inordinate amount of seasoning and you think now is a good time to work on your boat. At this point we have been at the lake house for three hours, have had no desire to eat any leftover brown food and are staring at a pot of now luke warm seasoning water, containing bright orange crabs that I am guessing are pretty much way overcooked and probably taste like a salt lick. We decide at that point that we need to go, and by go I mean go to Bucktown to get some boiled seafood. This crab tease has gone on for too long and once we have eaten our boiled crabs at Deanie's I'm going to call the food police or the Louisiana Entertaining Commission or maybe the mayor to report your poor hosting habits, because if there is one thing you can't do in New Orleans is throw a party and not give your guests something good to eat.