Sample Solution

ith enough crawfish, shrimp, andouille sausage, and corn on the cob to fill up two 120-quart igloo coolers, we ate until the heavenly, creole food grew cold (about 3 or so hours). Our mouths on fire from the pounds of crab boil and Cajun seasoning mixed into the boiling water, we sat on the top deck of the riverboat and watched on CBS as Patrick Reed, to our dismay, sweep the field at The Masters.

The muscular red drum broke the surface of the wind-rapped water, attempting to shake the popping cork loose from his gaping jaws. As the fish slid out of the heavy-duty net and onto the weather-stained deck, I counted seven spots, the most of the day. With the 10-horsepower trolling motor propelling the boat slowly, just above the years of built up mud and oyster shells, we monitor the narrow channels, imprisoned by miles of alligator-infested reeds, for rosy, translucent tails trolling five feet off the shore.

Before heading back to Dothan after my family’s last trip to New Orleans this past Christmas, we stopped for brunch at Atchafalaya, the only restaurant in Nola with five A’s. Known as one of the top 10 brunch restaurants in the country, Atchafalaya is famous for their chicken and biscuits, so obviously, I accompanied that order with a cup of turtle and alligator gumbo. These chicken and biscuits may seem simple, but they aren’t even in the same category as the generic Hardees chicken biscuit. Two homemade buttermilk biscuits, topped with two whole fried chicken breasts, and doused in gravy, along with the gumbo that sounded like roadkill but tasted like Heaven, held up as the perfect last Nola meal before the five-hour trip back to Dothan.