Mardi Gras Magic
a feast of color, culture, and traditions
To understand why Mardi Gras is so important to people all across the Gulf Coast (and beyond), we need to go back in time for a bit. If asked, most people would answer the trivia question, “Where did Mardi Gras begin? New Orleans!”
But the very first Mardi Gras celebration in America happened in Mobile, Alabama, way back in 1703, when French settlers brought the tradition with them — complete with feasting, celebration, and the solemn weeks of Lent. Mardi Gras Day itself marks the final day of the Carnival season.
Mobile also has the honor of forming the first Mardi Gras society in the early 1700s. And we all know what sort of parades and revelry began when New Orleans became the more famous host!
But here at Chez Lolly, even though I don’t host parades — I can set a festive table, as you saw in the post a few days ago. With ancestors carrying names like LaRue and LaFollette, I find joy in channeling this part of my ancestry.
Color takes over the room — bold purples, greens, and golds dancing across the table, playful jesters standing guard like they’re in on the party. It’s impossible not to smile when walking into the dining room and kitchen. Mardi Gras has officially arrived!
This isn’t a quiet and formal meal; this is a celebration with family, friends, and food. And music — you can’t celebrate Mardi Gras without Cajun or Zydeco as the backdrop of the evening.
After guests arrive and are welcomed with hugs, and take in the sights of the dining table and sideboard, it’s time for their sense of smell to take over and realize what they’re about to experience.
One plate says it best:
First you make a roux.
If you know, you know.
That slow stir, the patience, the watching as it deepens in color — it’s practically a ceremony of its own. No rushing Mardi Gras cooking. Good things take time, and everyone hovering in the kitchen knows it. Patience truly is a virtue when it comes to making the perfect roux.
Then there’s the alligator.
Up close, it always gets a double take, followed by grins. It fully captures the fun of Mardi Gras.
And then… the real magic begins.
I will always have a big pot of gumbo simmering — rich and dark, filled with layers of flavor that only come from taking your time. Sometimes chicken and sausage, sometimes seafood, but always the anchor of the meal.
I made my first batch of these crawfish pies years ago, and now no Mardi Gras meal is complete without them on the menu.
Sweet Harold is the one tasked with making the crawfish étouffée, and he has mastered the recipe and method. When it’s spooned generously over rice, it’s thick, a mix of incredible flavors, and impossible to resist.
This is the kind of spread where no one takes small portions.
Second helpings are expected.
Third helpings are encouraged.
As I watch the table fill quickly — plates heavy, hands passing food back and forth, half a dozen conversations flowing as freely as the food — I know I’ve done my part.
Drinks clink together in quick toasts — to friends, to family, to good food, to being together in the shared moment.
And of course, we had a few festive drinks to go along with the feast — sweet King Cake Martinis and Bloody Marys dressed up with all the fixings.
As the meal begins, somebody laughs loud as the music plays.
Someone else tells a story that goes nowhere but somehow lasts five minutes, branches off into four or five other stories, and in the end, they all tie together perfectly. The storyteller is as surprised as the listeners that it all made sense in the end.
It’s the kind of moment you wish you could bottle up and keep forever.
And speaking of telling four tales at once and keeping memories with you forever, here’s one for you.
When visiting New Orleans several years ago, I had the chance to meet a Mardi Gras Indian, fully costumed with vibrant feathers, intricate beadwork, and pride woven into every detail. I can’t imagine the hours of work that went into that costume.
We were having lunch, and through one of the enormous floor-to-ceiling glass doors opening to Jackson Square, I saw him walking past. Food forgotten for the moment, I darted out the door after him. Sweet Harold caught the moment for me with a quick photo. I’m so glad he did.
Mardi Gras is about so much more than a party. It’s culture and community. It’s generations keeping something beautiful alive.
Being there, in the middle of it all, felt like being wrapped right into the celebration itself.
Mardi Gras at our table isn’t about perfection.
It’s about colors that make you smile, food that fills you up, and the people you love sitting right beside you.
But here’s the thing — Mardi Gras doesn’t have to mean days in the kitchen with every pot on the stove bubbling at once.
If all you’ve got time (or energy) for is a boxed mix, grab it. Cook it up with love and call your people to the table. Celebrate your way.
And hey — if cooking just isn’t fitting into your life’s schedule right now, there’s no shame in picking up a feast from Popeyes!
Because the real magic isn’t in how fancy the food is or how long it took to make. It’s in being together around the table, the stories, and the memories being made.
The goal should always be to make ordinary days a little less ordinary.
And the truth is — you can always find something to celebrate.
So whether it’s a full Cajun feast, a quick supper, or a bucket of chicken on the table, just gather, enjoy, and make it special in your own way.
Want to try these recipes yourself? Here’s where you can find them:
• Gumbo recipe here
• Crawfish pies here
• Crawfish étouffée here
• King Cake Martini here
• Mardi Gras Bloody Mary here
That’s what Mardi Gras is really about.
💜💚💛
