Today, various people gave their various loves a partridge in a pear tree, a song for the Christmas tree, a Japanese transistor radio, and a crawfish they caught in Arabi. I woke up this morning thinking about this song (which has till January 6 to run, even if you're quite done with it already), and how I would write the words from the perspective of a New Orleans cook and eater. The results are below.
On the first day of Christmas I'd like to cook for you:
A duck-andouille gumbo.
On the second day of Christmas I'd like to poach for you:
Two eggs Sardou.
On the third day of Christmas I'll sugar-dust for you:
Three beignets.
On the fourth day of Christmas I'd like to cut for you:
Half of a muffuletta.
On the fifth day of Christmas I'd like to fry for you:
Five soft shell crabs!
On the sixth day of Christmas I'd like to roast for you:
Six char-grilled oysters.
On the seventh day of Christmas I'd like to flame for you:
Seven bananas Foster.
On the eighth day of Christmas I'd like to grill for you:
Eight links of sausage.
On the ninth day of Christmas I'd like to steam for you:
Nine cups of rice.
On the tenth day of Christmas I'll slow-simmer for you:
Ten cups of red beans.
On the eleventh day of Christmas I'll barbecue for you:
Eleven jumbo shrimp.
On the twelfth day of Christmas I'd like to dress for you:
A twelve-inch dressed hot roast beef poor boy.
