This afternoon I was driving from Donaldsonville to the airport, going over the Sunshine Bridge that spans the Mississippi River to go back to Chicago for Christmas, and it occurred to me. I may as well be living on Mars. That’s how foreign rural Louisiana feels to me. At this point, having lived here full-time for less than 6 weeks, it still really blows me away that I’m here.
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It’s very industrial, with these huge steel bridges and oil tankers and barges.Every morning I drive this huge curve, along the bank of the Mississippi and up onto the Sunshine Bridge, I have this huge vantage point across the river of the barges pulling up to the oil refineries. Tractor trailers packed with sugar cane are flying by. And at night the roads are really dangerous and black, with no street lights. And then when the sun comes up, you’re in the swamp, looking at alligators and frogs. That contrast is mind-blowing. “What am I doing here? I’m a city boy.”
Not to mention, when you’re used to waking up in Chicago and experiencing fall and winter, thinking root vegetables, which are in season in the Midwest, it’s bizarre to suddenly be in Louisiana, and all the roadside stands have strawberries being sold out of the backs of trucks and little tents. Where I live is a sportsman’s paradise, year-round. Right now it’s duck and venison season, and there are hunters in camouflage everywhere, tramping in and out of the woods. Crawfish is in season. It’s a different set of seasons entirely. And yet in my head I’m working on a menu that won’t launch until next summer. It’s this culinary tug-of-war all the time.
Oh yeah, one more thing. The fried chicken out here is crazy good. Everywhere. Check out my lunch today, FROM A GAS STATION. Oh my god.
Happy holidays, everyone.
- Rick
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