November 23, 2017 - Picnic Time
Visiting family Back East as a child was a initial time we was introduced to something called a “low nation boil.”
My kin tossed shrimp, crab, clams and even lobster hold progressing that day from a Chesapeake Bay and Atlantic Ocean into vats of roiling tainted H2O in one pot and halved ears of corn and red potatoes into another. An uncle manning a griddle incited sizzling plump sausages as several other family members laid out journal on cruise tables, that were hold down by robust tins of butter and several cylinders of Louisiana spices and brook seasoning. Before long, a shellfish was private and emptied afterwards incidentally widespread out on a news imitation tablecloth, followed by a corn and potatoes as good as a sausages, cut adult into bite-sized pieces. The adults and several cousins that were used to such a feast looked during a bubbling list of tone and cheer like inspired beasts, yet we was confused. Growing adult on a California coast, we had never seen such a pleasure of well-placed disaster or smelled a point mélange of saltwater molluscs happily buried in a veneer of crunchy, tasty tidbits.
My grandfather, in all of his stately wisdom, sagely suggested me: “Just go for it.” So, yet seeking for serve permission, we grabbed a bit of all and began to lay rubbish to a heaping geography of tender trait before me, while somewhere low in a outing of my childhood insatiability a light went on in my quasi-blacked out bliss: It was freakin’ amazing.
The multiple of a uninformed seafood, a snap and benevolence from a corn, a fattiness of a sausages, a soothing hardness of a potatoes with a tainted piquancy from a seasoning and a unconstrained babbling brooks of butter had remade me into a monster savage as well. On tip of it all, it was so many fun to eat.
Here in Tucson, we do have a few ocean-harvest options, many of that are tasty and many of that we have been to…but does anybody do a face-slathering, low-country boil? Not that we know of. So, when by possibility picking adult food from an adjoining grill on Fort Lowell Road and Campbell Avenue, we had to step inside to a extraordinary new judgment called Seafood Time.
That plcae between Rosa’s and China Szechuan has been assigned many times by many opposite styles of cuisine, usually to be dejected by bad operation and miss of business. But on this pointless night a small mark was flattering packed. Picking adult a menu, we beheld that it was unequivocally sparse, if not a bit bewildering. It asks we to name a locate (which has crab, mussels, shrimp and even crawdads), afterwards an addition, such as fries and corn, and to finish it off, spices trimming between amiable and hot. Wait a minute. This sounds familiar. Inspecting a tables, we saw zero yet piles of shellfish, sausages and potatoes splayed out with congregation only going for it. Seafood Time is a low-country-boil restaurant! Seriously?
Owner and manager Eddie Lau also owns Gee’s Garden and, from a success of that venture, was means to gain Seafood Time. Having changed from China when he was unequivocally young, Lau has always had a mindfulness with food and kitchens, so going into a grill business was an apparent career choice. Although he has never trafficked Down South or Back East. Lau has always enjoyed this character of eating and cooking and, by tests and tastes, he eventually came adult with a regulation that works.
Most of a crab comes directly from Alaska, that he picks adult early in a morning during a airport, while others come from a Northwest waters of Washington and Oregon. When we sat down to try out a goods, we was during once both shaken and excited, wondering if he can reconstruct those flavors from my youth. Eddie afterwards brings out a vast lead play crawling with shellfish, liberally doused in his prohibited seasoning. And then…I went for it.
Stunning. Fantastically fresh, generous, flavorful, holding me behind to that time hunched, sweating over a cruise list lonesome in a daily Times. A word of warning though: a prohibited piquancy choice is like unequivocally hot; a spook peppers concoction, Eddie tells me. we had a good time with it but, oh man, that bake though. And it was a lot of food. You competence consider spending tighten to $30 on aristocrat crab legs is pricy, yet when it arrives we too will grin and spin into a voracious eat beast. It is so value it. Seafood Time is a dining knowledge of perfect merriment and community feast, reminding we that eating can—and should—be fun.
You only gotta go for it!