"lousiana" news and stories

Located off Southeastern Louisiana, Barataria Bay is home to some of the most biologically diverse and productive waters in the Gulf of Mexico. Beginning in late May, state authorities began to close off specific areas to recreational and commercial fishing due to the appearance of oil as reported by shrimpers. Then on July 27th , a passing dredge barge pulled by the Pere Ana C. tugboat collided with an abandoned wellhead causing a geyser of oil to burst over the waters. Capped on August 1st, the oil well was eventually controlled, but the damage to Barataria Bay was done, and blue crab, one of the Gulf's most vital seafood harvests, is feeling the effects.

"Blue crabs are one of the most important components in the Gulf's food chain," Vince Guillory, a biologist manager of the Louisiana Department of Wildlife & Fisheries, told Slashfood. Over the past few weeks reports from researchers testing seafood in the Barataria area have shown these abundant crustaceans' larvae to exhibit characteristic orange specks caused by oil. Biologist Harriet Perry of the University of Southern Mississippi's Gulf Coast Research Laboratory has been studying the samples and told the Associated Press, "In my 42 years of studying crabs I've never seen this."

Nearing the third month into the Gulf oil spill (count 'em, 85 days), we couldn't be more frustrated: If you're like us, you lie awake at night, wondering what will cap that damn thing; you may have even considered driving down to scrub a flock of oily pelicans, if only to get the images out of your head. And while this is likely not an option for most of you -- no matter how hard you beg your boss to fund a charity trip -- by the end of this month, all you'll have to do is drink.

In connection with the Louisiana Seafood Promotion and Marketing Board, New Orleans-beloved Abita beer has announced a special brew for relief and restoration efforts: SOS -- A Charitable Pilsner.

The golden-hued, 22-oz 7% ABV is an unfiltered Weizen Pils described as having a "sweet malt flavor with a pleasant bitterness and aroma." Now in its final leg of aging, it's slated to be shipped out by the end of July, available wherever Abita beer is sold -- including a to-be released list of participating restaurants.

The bottles will feature hand-drawn shrimp, boats, pelicans and other Gulf coast fishing icons arranged in "SOS," in this case meaning "Save Our Shores."

The city of Eunice, La., will again host a crawfish étouffée cook-off this weekend, marking 25 consecutive years of failing to agree upon a single definition for the classic Cajun dish.

All comers are welcome to compete in the wildly popular event, whether they swear by – or swear at – butter, margarine, tomatoes, cream of mushroom soup, paprika, roux or pre-chopped onions. The liberal guidelines make for a diverse array of étouffées that annually lure eaters from across the South.

"We don't care what the judges think," Robin McGee, executive director of the Eunice Chamber of Commerce, says of the disparate preparation techniques. "We're too busy saying ours is the best."

What's worse than having to endure a long, hard winter? Enduring a long, hard winter as a crawfish.

Crawfish hate the cold. When the temperature dips, they respond in kind, burrowing into the mud and refusing to eat. That means the few critters that have wriggled into farmers' traps this season are too puny to impress the many Louisianans who traditionally feast on crawfish during Lent.

"Mother Nature's throwing us a curve ball, and the trouble is she keeps throwing them," says Stephen Minville, director of the Louisiana Crawfish Farmers Association.

Minville's 2010 harvest stands at about 30 percent of his typical year-to-date haul, with the most successful farmers topping out at 40 percent. "Optimism is running out," Minville says.

The nation's only Giant Omelette Celebration will mark its 25th anniversary this weekend by adding one more egg to its 12-foot skillet.

The town of Abbeville, La., in 1984, joined the confederation of seven cities from Argentina to Belgium that annually commemorates Napoleon's order for a tiny town in southern France to produce an army-sized omelette. Bessieres upheld the tradition long after Napoleon's troops had gone, cooking oversized omelettes at Easter to feed the poor. The practice has thrived in places where locals fret about losing touch with their Francophone heritage.

But that doesn't mean the Abbeville cooks are entirely faithful to the recipe favored by Monsieur Bonaparte: Festival president Gordy Landry reports, "we add a Cajun flair."

"Most of the other giant omelettes are a little bit plainer and not quite so tasty," he continues. "In France, they just stick to the eggs. In Canada, they add some ham. But the only place that puts crawfish in is us."