I woke up this morning with dainty crayfish shards embedded in my fingers. Crustacean slivers are evidence of a good food event in the bearer’s immediate past.
I’ve always said American Swedish Institute knows how to throw a good party. We spent last night cracking claws between our teeth and mentally apologizing to our dentists. We sang drinking songs with familiar tunes and Swedish words. Our plates held piles of crayfish, pickled vegetables, knäckebröd and rye, cheeses, egg tarts, and cucumber salad. Our glasses flowed with cocktails and ale, and shots of Linie. Between delicious bites and juicy slurps we skolled and laughed and cracked some more.
As the evening progressed both tables and companions were ever so slightly disheveled. Large bowls held pyramids of empty red crayfish carcasses, aquavit shots were replaced with hot coffee, and dessert was served: the best strawberry rhubarb cobbler ever made.
Is my assessment of that cobbler skewed by the revelry and amazing meal that came before it? I’ll ponder that question today as I pull crayfish slivers from my fingers.