Shreveport Day 1

As the dawn light filtered between the slats of the closed mini blinds next to our bed, we were serenaded by a most exuberant mocking bird. 

The windows were open and I think he was in the tree just a few feet away from the Alfa. 

How many songs can one mockingbird copy? 

Do older mocking birds remember more songs than younger ones? 

Do mockingbirds have a song of their own? 

As I drifted slowly up from sleep I started to guess what the origin of each call might be. I think I heard a tree frog among them.

On Wednesday, we went to the Shreveport Visitors Center and, following their instructions, found a couple of interesting places to see. In general, the parts of downtown Shreveport that we saw today felt very much like they died some years ago. 

A very pretty overflow fountain in the river walk area

Although there are several large hotels and casinos along the river, and a very nice pathway along the river itself, the old streets one block off the river were lined with vacant stores and business. There was little traffic, few pedestrians, and almost every parking lot we passed was close to empty. On the other hand, the streets were clean with no graffiti or homeless beggars that are often found in urban areas.

We had planned on stopping for a nice lunch. But, other than going into the casinos, it didn’t seem there was much hope of finding anything on foot, so we returned to the car and Craig used his phone for recommendations and directions. The first one we tried to find seemed to be at a run down airport. Even the Air National Guard buildings had for lease signs on them. Our next try was for a place that came up four stars on the phone and was on the list provided by the visitors center. We drove on some well-maintained streets that had what seemed like abandoned warehouses on both sides. Some of the streets had sidewalks and stairs that went to empty overgrown residential lots. We saw lots of boarded up houses as well. The churches, on the other hand, seemed new or renovated and very well maintained.

Herby K's did not live up to my expectations as a lunch stop. Although it had "character" in that it hasn't changed much since it opened in 1936, the food was not that good and seemed overpriced. 

I wold not recommend it. I may be too picky, but there are so many good eats out there I hate to waste a meal at a so-so place. 

Speaking of eats, we had an interesting supper back at the Alfa.

On our way home we stopped at a Walmart for a few things and were surprised by this big tub of live crawfish in the meat department. 

The butcher was on hand to bag them up and tell people what spice mix to buy and how to cook them. 

I was a bit leery at first, but after seeing that they were fresh enough to be still moving, I let Craig talk me into getting a couple of pounds.

Trying Crawdads was on my "Louisiana List", but I didn't expect to be cooking them myself!

Craig and I both recall catching similar critters, which we called crabs, in the creeks near our homes in Wisconsin as children. Neither of us could remember our mothers cooking them for us. Perhaps it was because we would only bring home a few at a time. Not enough to bother cooking.

I followed the butcher's instructions to soak them in salt water for an hour and then boiling them with Zatarain's spices. 

We ate them out on the patio table.

We ate them dipped in  some melted butter. 

Interesting, much like very tiny lobsters, but it
sure seem like a lot of work for each little tail. 




I'm really looking forward to eating fresh Maine lobsters someday.