Clambake Quotes

“Our crab pots are out front, and Francis has fixed a big metal barrel right on the beach. He lights a good fire to get the water boiling, and after the crabs are cooked, we women sit on the patio shucking until we have a mountain of meat in the middle of the table. We stir up buckets of cocktail sauce from catsup, mayonnaise, Worcestershire, lemon juice, and celery salt, and the kids come running. They eat on their towels on the sand, soaking up as much sun as possible to get them through the next winter.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“Like a clown car, they excitedly filed into a single line and followed the server straight into the bustling lunch crowd at Crawfish & Beignets. It was the siblings' neutral zone, a place where no fighting was allowed.
Except this time felt more like the Last Supper.
Seafood boils were a staple of their childhood, reminding them of all the best parts of being Vietnamese American in the South, and none of the bad. Though unspoken, the migration of the Viet-Cajun boil always lingered over them, reminding them of its roots in Louisiana, from other Vietnamese folks who resettled in Houston after Hurricane Katrina, and the resiliency that came with it.”
― Carolyn Huynh, The Family Recipe

“It was as if every Asian in Houston was here now, with plastic gloves on, breaking apart crab legs, crawfish, mussels, and clams in quick succession. A volcanic eruption of gossip, laughter, parental lectures, and roasts and jabs at their children dominated the restaurant, while garlic noodle slurpers and the squeaky sound of mussels being eaten played in tandem all around them.”
― Carolyn Huynh, The Family Recipe

“Five pounds of crawfish in a metal bucket were soon placed down. The smell of lemongrass, Old Bay seasoning, and fish sauce hit the siblings all at once, and they breathed in the familiar, comforting scent. The coalescent beauty of a Viet-Cajun seafood boil was the magnum opus of the American South.”
― Carolyn Huynh, The Family Recipe

“A roar of relief and belts of glee united the siblings. They rushed past the other Trầns, gloating. Like a clown car, they excitedly filed into a single line and followed the server straight into the bustling lunch crowd at Crawfish & Beignets. It was the siblings' neutral zone, a place where no fighting was allowed.
Except this time felt more like the Last Supper.
Seafood boils were a staple of their childhood, reminding them of all the best parts of being Vietnamese American in the South, and none of the bad. Though unspoken, the migration of the Viet-Cajun boil always lingered over them, reminding them of its roots in Louisiana, from other Vietnamese folks who resettled in Houston after Hurricane Katrina, and the resiliency that came with it.”
― Carolyn Huynh, The Family Recipe