Sweet candies who melt away at the precise bite of the intruding jaw! Oh what joy they are to consume! Light, crucifyingly crunchy, and crackling confection of pecans, cream and, in this case, chocolate whispers, the sweet tooth is taken on an exquisite carriage ride down the boulevard of fixed dreams to lands of enchantment free of strife and pain, where laughter reigns supreme over all! Oh, I doth have acquired the old familiar hunger at the mere scribble of the name!!

Imagine at this very quadrant of your life’s synchronicity that a massive chain were hurled down your throat and it erected a massive anchor at the very core of your soul. That chain is equivalent to the venerable spaghetti of this dish, whose silky wonders burrow themselves deep within the self, creating morality and virtue in even the darkest of hearts. Twisting and turning, it creates a path to deliver gifts to the human stomach similar to the famed Saint Nick. Gifts of tangy, peppered fish and deceivingly chewy bits of crawfish, forming a righteous battalion to liberate the esophagus and the throngs of one’s flesh and blood from the death throughs of monotony. The corps is flanked by a magnificent loaf of baguette, whose final push forces you to suffocate the delicious meal as it swirls about your insides. Filling you with every texture that received a word in the English language and every flavor which I choose to describe, you will surely die but at least it will be a noble death!

Owe how the heavens have blessed us earthly creatures with the fruit of the mighty oceans’ labors. Dear reader, in order to dine upon such a feast, it is inherent that one wraps their bosoms in the protective patronage of the apron monarchy to prevent a sliding rampage of delicious blazing sauces. In such pots, we have bestowed the name of the boil to, is contained contents of such magnitude the sheer utterance of their names has thine boy in fits of orgasmic fury. Black Mussels! Snow Crab Legs! Corn Cobs! Potatoes! Eggs! Andouille Sausage! FInally, the sauce that ended the Thirty Years War! Words cannot do the Lord’s work justice, just know that no one can ever be burdened by fatigue with the myriad of flavors at their disposal. Go forth and eat it I say! Or thee shall never know the truest love that our earth do offer!

The crisp, gritty brutalism the gator offers is the star performance. Taking inspiration from his influences; chicken and shrimp, the alligator does more than stand up to the enormous task of filling the meat quota of the iconic Po-Boy. However, the beast could not achieve tastebud merriment alone and relied upon thick French bread and an array of cold vegetables to balance the spice and pizzazz of his star-studded entrance. The crunch of the fried reptilian, laid bare upon heavy yet soft bread with the light padding of vegetarian chic helped facilitate the landing of this entree, becoming one of the grandest food experiences in all of la Rue Bourbon! Hohohon!

The hunt for oil has guided many a conflict! And yet, henceforth, I grasp the serene value of the commodity in peacetime as its immaculate use in the eponymous gumbo on display assisted in carrying the dish to heights even Everest could only dream of. Standing atop a sea of sausage and fragranced soupy excellence was the rich and tough garlic bread which provided safe passage of the rice to extract the juices of the gumbo from plate to mouth without spillage. The trio never succumbed to heartbreaking endings like the Titanic and the only iceberg met was the emptiness felt when such a wonderous meal ended and one was left wondering why we are still searching for oil. So why are we? Or are we really searching for ourselves?… Incorrect