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There was one big benefit to all of it, though: “During the season, you’re working and you’re dedicated to that. But we had the best crawfish in town. We always had the best crawfish boils.” RANDAZZO’S L ocated on a small peninsula in Bayou Pigeon, Louisiana, in the southern tip of Iberville Parish, Randazzo’s Bayou Pigeon Seafood is in the heart of crawfish country and the Atchafalaya Basin Spillway. It was a family business from the start, founded in the 1980s by Eugene and Violet Vaughn, along with their kids and in-laws. “My father, Eugene, and his sons-in-law all crawfished, and dad always had an interest in one day starting a company,” said Glenda Randazzo, who owns and operates the company today with her husband, Chris. “One day we were all sitting around and, almost on a whim, decided to make a business venture. We would figure it out as we went!” Today, Randazzo’s is a third-generation company, with the children of Glenda and Chris — Colbey, Case and Caci, and their son-in-law, Landon — keeping the company running strong. Their daily opera tions include purchasing live, wild-caught crawfish from Atchafalaya Basin fishermen and live pond crawfish from local farmers. If you’ve ever had crawfish from your local Rouses store (and if you haven’t, what’s the wait?), you’ve enjoyed some of that famous Randazzo seafood. In addition to live product for your weekend crawfish boil, Randazzo’s also processes and packages excess caught crawfish, and they offer washing and prepping services for on-site catering jobs. The secret to their success? Hard work and long hours, says Glenda. “The business is always changing, so you have to be flexible to that, period. It started out as a handful of people in the company, and to be successful it takes a lot of long hours, a lot of aching backs and a lot of sacrifices.” It seems like every year in the crawfish industry is a new start with the same old worries. A bad crawfish season — often due to drought — affects crustacean and community alike. Lower water levels from

onto trucks to sell the next morning. It is a 70-person operation — and a sophisticated one. Working with living product means maintaining rock-solid logistics and making snap value judgments. “Different times of the year, you get different sizes,” said Jason. “You’re not always going to get the big, big ones. There are certain times when, if crawfish is scarce, you can let some slide. But when things are plentiful, you’ve got to give your customers something really nice.” Because Louisiana absolutely cannot get enough of our favorite indigenous crusta cean, there is no such thing as a relaxed day when crawfish season is in full swing. That is especially true in a drought-affected season like this one, where crawfish are in short supply. Anyone who has run a family business already knows that it means long hours, sometimes away from the family you are supporting. “I didn’t really see my dad much during crawfish season. I’m 51 right now, and I’ve been doing this more than half my life. Now I have a wife and small kids, and I don’t see them during crawfish season either. It’s really hard; that’s just how this business is. When it’s on, it’s on.” BAYOU LAND S ince the early 1970s, Bayou Land Seafood and Rouses Markets have been working together to get the best crawfish in the hands of the best shoppers. “Back when Rouses only had one or two stores, we were delivering to them, and over the years we have grown with them,” said Adam Johnson, who owns Bayou Land. Like Rouses, Bayou Land is also a multi generational family business. Johnson’s grandfather, Roman Robin, and uncle, Roy Robin, founded the business more than 50 years ago. Johnson bought the company in 2000. “I was 37 years old when I got in the captain’s chair — I was the young man in the business,” said Johnson, adding with a laugh, “Now people are calling me ‘sir’!” Based out of Grand Anse — a little, unincorporated area near Breaux Bridge, Louisiana — Bayou Land works with local fishermen, buying pond-raised crawfish and wild-caught crawfish from the Atchafalaya Basin. They also get crawfish in the “rice country” of Acadia Parish, St. Landry Parish

and Vermilion Parish, generally. “We buy crawfish for the live market,” Johnson said, explaining the work they do. “For the smaller stuff, we process it into tail meat. And we’ll peel five or six days a week, starting mid-February through about mid-June, normally, on a regular season. And that’s processing crawfish, removing the tail meat and packaging that.” It’s a manual process, with 30 or 40 people removing the tail meat from crawfish by hand, and a few others doing the packaging and freezing before it goes to the market. In a single season, they will do this for three-quarters of a million pounds of live crawfish, which works out to a little over 100,000 pounds of tail meat. This season might be a little harder, but the work never stops. For live crawfish, it’s not a 24-hour operation, but it’s close; six days a week for four months out the year. Bayou Land drivers are picking up sacks of crawfish in the afternoon, bringing the bugs back to the office for sorting by evening, and loading the trucks for delivery early the next morning. Sacks weigh anywhere from 30 to 40 pounds, and Rouses orders by the sack — and a lot of them! “I’ve always been proud of being in the industry. It consumes your life during that time of the season. People are running their traps, trying to catch crawfish, starting in November and going into July. But the processing season is February through May.” Johnson has been part of the crawfish industry his whole life. In addition to Bayou Land, his father and another uncle farmed crawfish. “Growing up, starting in November, we’re putting traps out. We’re working with my mom and dad. And on the weekends, I was fishing with them. It was required, but it wasn’t a chore to me. It was still fun.” During crawfish season, you never slow down. “It’s not an easy job, he said. “You work — excuse my language — you work your butt off for those months.” It slows a bit once the season is ended, but you’re still moving. “In the off season, you’re fixing traps, and there are things to do at the pond to get things ready. You have to drain the water, and then you have to pull that water back up a few months later. And so there’s still lots to do, but it’s more scheduled.”

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