Crustacean Celebration: Live and In My Kitchen!

I have to say, cooking live crabs wasn't something I was looking forward to. The lobster experience a few years ago, where the tails of the poor creatures were whacking against the lid of the pot, creeped me out for a very long time.

Fresh from the tank at ABC Seafood.

But having had some fresh-cooked crabs at a friend's home convinced me it might be worth a few potential psychic scars, so I headed off to ABC Seafood on SE Powell to buy crabs for a crab feed that evening. The cool thing about ABC is that they sell a ton of seafood every day, so it doesn't sit around long in the large, bubbling tanks. And their prices are at or below what you'll find at other markets in town.

Into the pot they go.

One way to tell that the crabs are fresh is that when they're fished out of the tank, they're flailing and grabbing, not limp and listless, and these babies were fighting like all get out. I carried out my seven big beauties to the car, listening to them burble and clack all the way home, even through the several layers of paper and plastic bags that encased them. (Yes, it did make me shiver a bit to think of them in there trying to figure out what the heck was going on.)

Cooling their heels in the sink.

I'd been advised to stow them in the fridge until it was time to do the deed, letting the cold slow them down so they wouldn't be flailing when they went into the pot. By the time the guests arrived, I had three big pots of heavily salted water (sites advise about a tablespoon per quart) on the stove. The crabs had quieted enough to grab them by the back of the shell (their large front claws were banded shut) and slide them, upside-down, into the boiling water. Thankfully there was no flailing or clawing to get out, so a recreation of the lobster scene from Annie Hall was averted.

Now this is a feed!

Once the water had returned to a boil, the pots were covered and the crabs simmered for 15 minutes while drinks were served. When the time was up, the shells had turned that signature bright red and we fished them out with tongs and put them in the sink to cool. At this point they could have been rinsed and refrigerated or frozen for future use, but putting them in the sink until they're cool enough to handle and then clean allows the meat to stay warm for serving. (Instructions on how to clean a crab.)

The table had been covered with newspapers and strewn with nutcrackers and picks, butter had been warmed, Dave's bread had been sliced and my friend Kathryn had made her fabulous Caesar salad. The crab parts were divided into two large bowls and we all got to work on the sweet, succulent meat until, as my sister-in-law said, her arms were too tired to crack any more. I'd say that's a good definition of a successful crab feed.

For seriously great crab recipes, from cakes to chowders to pasta dishes, see the previous posts in the series: 2009, 2010, 2011 and 2012.

Crustacean Celebration: The Loveliest Words

There are two words that are music to my ears, that send me into reveries of feasts gone by, of sand and salt and sea, and those two words are "crab feed." We were fortunate to have two of these fêtes du crabes over the holidays, one here at the house and the other at our friends Kathryn and Jeff's home.

Ours was pretty simple, starting with the ceremonial covering of the table with newspaper, the better to share amusing tidbits during the meal. Then each person claimed a pre-cooked, pre-cleaned crab from the pile and set to work with the various implements of destruction we provided, including hammers, nutcrackers and pliers.

Note to those considering hosting a crab feed: It's important to have fewer implements than guests in order to promote sharing and/or grabbing and/or whining over who's hogging the tools. We also provided a salad bowl full of chopped romaine, a pitcher of thousand island dressing, lots of lemons, a loaf of Dave's bread and libations aplenty.

At the second feed, Kathryn and Jeff had the table covered with newspapers when we arrived, but they'd decided to take the extra step of cooking the crabs themselves in large pots of water boiling away on the stove. Most of the guests adjourned to the living room with the wine, the better to ignore the screaming of the crabs as they were boiled alive.

Cooked this way, I have to say that the meat was slightly fresher-tasting than the precooked ones we'd had so far. You do have to deal with cleaning them, though it's a really simple task, since the shell basically pops off with a slight tug and it's easy to scrape off the gills and rinse out the ochre-colored tamale under running water.

The Caesar they made to go with the crab was reminiscent (and maybe even better) than the one I remember from Zefiro (to which I've compared all subsequent Caesars) and was a nice choice to have with the sweet crab meat. And I'm thinking we might just need to reprise this dinner in the new year before the season completely passes us by.

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Check out these other examples of the crabby-licious goodness that is the Crustacean Celebration at GoodStuffNW: pasta with crab and radicchio; hot artichoke and crab dip; crab crostini; killer crab cakes; and Beach Cioppino.