Party Favor: Crab and Artichoke Dip

I want to slide in a quick suggestion for your next holiday party, whether it's at your place or you need to take a little something to contribute to a gathering. It's a throwback to the days of yore and Madmen-style, cocktail-fueled evenings, where a table might be laden with tiny canapés made with Ritz Crackers, processed cheese and pimento olives.

Cheese balls were in fashion, sitting like an errant meteor on a china plate. My own mother was enamored of them—I think she really loved the nuts studding the exterior— and standbys like clam and onion dips orbiting big bowls heaped with salty potato chips. Chafing dishes, with little tins of Canned Heat burning beneath them, kept all manner of hors d'oeuvres like meatballs piping hot (sometimes erring on the side of molten), with rainbow-colored toothpicks nearby, the better to spear the choicest bits.

The warm crab and artichoke dip below would have fit right in on that table, even more so because it relies on canned food products and the stalwart presence of mayonnaise to bind it all together. You could substitute local Dungeness crab meat, farmers' market artichokes and homemade mayonnaise to make it, too, but I like the simplicity of the original in its all-American salute to convenience paired with deliciousness. And I know my mother would approve.

Hot Artichoke and Crab Dip
Adapted from New Seasons Market

1 14-oz. can artichoke hearts
1/4 c. capers
6 oz. crab meat (fresh is better and cheaper if you buy a whole crab and crack it yourself, but canned works, too)
1 c. parmesan, finely grated
1 c. mayonnaise
6 whole wheat crackers (like Triscuits), optional

Drain and chop artichokes. If using canned crab, drain well. Crush crackers to fine crumbs with a rolling pin.

Combine crab with artichokes, capers, cheese and mayonnaise. Sprinkle with crushed crackers. Put in baking dish and bake for at least 20 minutes at 350°. When slightly browned and bubbly, serve with your favorite crackers, baguette slices or tortilla chips. (Also makes a great stuffing for salmon fillet or chicken breast.)

Crustacean Celebration: Crab Bouillabaisse

You can blame climate change for the reason Dungeness crab season was delayed this year. Domoic acid, a dangerous neurotoxin that can cause loss of short-term memory, seizures and sometimes even death, became a problem because of unusually warm ocean temperatures off the West Coast from Alaska to California. These warm waters caused a bloom of an algae called Pseudo-nitzschia, which produces the domoic acid, and while the toxin doesn't affect crabs, clams, anchovies and other fish, it does build up in their bodies when they feed.

It takes crabs a fair amount of time to purge the toxin from their systems once the algae bloom dies off. The Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife declared Oregon's Dungeness to be safe for consumption as of January 4, 2016, nearly a month later than normal. One of my first responses, naturally, was to go out and buy one for myself. And since I'd been craving a fish stew, I decided to make my first ever bouillabaisse.

Since I'd never made one before, some research was in order. The first resource was my icon of home cook-friendly French cuisine, Ms. Julia Child. One of her recipes calls for making a court bouillon of fish heads, bones and trimmings and adding onions, leeks, tomatoes, herbs and seasonings, which is strained and then used to cook live lobsters—two!—white fish, some shellfish and an eel. Yes, an eel. Well.

I moved on to Jimmy—you may know him as James Beard, but we're very close—who spent a great deal of time with Julia and whose bouillabaisse recipe is a somewhat simplified version of hers.  Though I was impressed with his "soupe de poisson," which calls for taking a couple of pounds of fish (scales, bones and all), cooking it for about half an hour in water, then straining off the "juice"  and adding tomatoes and onions to it. He then throws in some vermicelli, saffron and…this is so Jimmy…Swiss cheese!

A couple of online checks and I had the basic outline of what I was going to do. All it took was a trip to the fish counter at the store, then picking up a couple of things that weren't in my vegetable bin at home, and within an hour of starting the process—thank heavens for having homemade fish stock in my freezer—we were sitting down to steaming bowls of this beautiful fish stew!

Easy Bouillabaisse

1/4 tsp. saffron
1 tsp. salt
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 onion, chopped in 1/2" dice
2 small fennel bulbs or 1 large bulb, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 tomatoes, chopped in 1/2" dice
1 c. dry white wine
3 qts. fish stock
2 lbs. white fish (cod, tilapia, halibut, rockfish, etc.), sliced in 1" pieces
1 lb. clams
1/2 lb. mussels
1/2 lb. shrimp
1 Dungeness crab, cooked and meat picked from shell

Put saffron threads in mortar and pestle with salt and grind until the saffron is mostly powdered. Set aside.

Heat olive oil in large soup pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Add onion and sauté till translucent. Add fennel and garlic and sauté till tender. Add ground saffron, tomatoes, white wine and stock. Bring to a boil, then immediately reduce to simmer for 20 minutes. Add fish, shellfish and crab. Bring to a boil, then reduce to simmer for 10 min.

For even more seriously great crab recipes, from crab cakes to chowders to pasta dishes, check out the Crustacean Celebration chronicles.

Delicious Denizen of the Deep

The picture above arrived via text message from Kevin Gibson of Davenport.

"Local," was the caption, though the creature pictured looked anything but. Then: "Box or shame-faced crab, bycatch of Dungeness. 2000 feet down off the Oregon coast."

What the crabbers were doing catching crab at those depths I really don't know, but looking it up on Wikipedia I found this description: "The brown box crab, Lopholithodes foraminatus, is a king crab that lives from Kodiak Island, Alaska to San Diego, California at depths of 0–547 metres (0–1,795 ft). It reaches a carapace length of 150 millimetres (5.9 in.), and feeds on bivalves and detritus. It often lies buried in the sediment, and two foramens in the chelipeds allow water into the gill chamber for respiration."

Later that afternoon I was running errands in Kevin's neighborhood and stopped in. He brought out two of the six crabs that he hadn't yet steamed, and rather than the hoary monsters I'd imagined from the photo, there were two hand-sized little guys looking rather disoriented in the bright lights of the kitchen.

Kevin noted that when he cleaned the four that had already been cooked, they only yielded about a pound of meat combined. Unlike their larger cousins, the Dungeness, whose bodies contain a great deal of meat, the bodies of the box crabs had almost none, with most of the meat concentrated in the lower legs and claws. The texture reminded me of lobster in its moist chewiness and it had a sweet, salty tang. Kevin said the plan was to feature it in a salad that evening, served simply with a squeeze of grapefruit and a few slices of avocado.

I was just happy to meet this startling new neighbor, and hope that I can acquaint myself with more of his kind in the near future.

Crustacean Celebration: Let Them Eat (Crab) Cakes!

You can never have too much crab.

There, I've said it. And I challenge anyone to prove me wrong, especially when it comes to our own treasured resource, the Dungeness crab. Which is why, whenever I buy live crab to cook at home or already cooked and cleaned from the store—it's no sin, they're just never as sweet and juicy as fresh-cooked—I make a point of buying more than I need.

Whether you make chowder, risotto, pasta or whatever, even the littlest dab of crab is going to make it better. And if you have enough leftover meat, and by that I mean about a whole crab's worth, you can make these heavenly crab cakes, perhaps the best and highest use of that precious seasonal treat next to eating it out of the shell.

My friend Michel shared her Thai-inflected recipe for these delicate, almost-all-crab cakes, which have only enough egg and bread crumbs to barely hold them together. I've added a dash of fish sauce to the original list, but otherwise it's exactly what she dictated to me the first night she made them for me and I fell to my knees begging for the recipe. Incidentally, it calls for the meat of two crabs, but the meat from one makes enough for a lovely dinner for two with a hearty green salad.

Michel's Thai-ish Crab Cakes

Yield: 15-18 small crab cakes

Combine:

Meat of two Dungeness crabs

1/2 red bell pepper, minced

1/4 c. minced red or green onion

1 serrano pepper, finely minced

2-4 Tbsp. cilantro, minced

1/4 c. bread crumbs

1/4 c. grated parmesan

Zest of 1 lime

1/2-1 tsp. fish sauce, to taste

(Adding some grated coconut and fresh mint or basil is also yummy.)

Whisk together and add:

Juice of 1 lime

1 egg

Stir crab mixture thoroughly.

Crumb coating:

1 c. bread crumbs, preferably Panko style

1/4 c. grated parmesan

Combine crumbs and parmesan and spread out on a plate.

Line a baking sheet with parchment or waxed paper.

Scoop up about 1/4 cup of crab mixture and form into a plump cake about 2-inches in diameter (approx. 1” high). Compress so cake holds together. Gently sit cake in crumb mixture to coat bottom and sprinkle crumbs over top to coat (don’t flip the cake or it will fall apart). Gently compress cake between your hands to meld crumbs to the crab cake. (Keep cake plump; don’t flatten.)

Set each formed cake on lined baking sheet. When all cakes are formed, place sheet in the refrigerator for at least 15 minutes.

Heat large sauté pan or griddle to medium-high heat and add olive oil, butter or mixture of both to generously coat pan. Gently place cakes in pan or on griddle, leaving plenty of room to turn them. Cook until golden brown and turn gently to brown other side, adding more oil or butter if needed. If cooking cakes in stages, keep cakes warm in oven until ready to serve.

Read the other post in this year's series, Don't Toss Those Shells. For even more seriously great crab recipes, from crab cakes to chowders to pasta dishes, read the posts from previous years: 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012 and 2013.

Crustacean Celebration: Don't Toss Those Shells!

In a previous post I called it a "Damascene moment." As when Paul of Tarsus was tossed off his horse and blinded whilst on a joyride to Damascus, I've had some mighty revelations in my culinary journeys. The one referred to above involved an admittedly pedestrian but delicious meatloaf, and the second was a head-slapper about corn stock made from freshly-shucked corn cobs that I'd been tossing into the compost for decades. D'oh!

The source material.

This week's landing-on-your-tailbone wake-up call happened when we had a dear friend over for Christmas dinner who doesn't eat red meat, immediately requiring the reconfiguration of dinner from a six-rib pork roast from the pig I'd just butchered to…what, exactly? Tuna loins were a possibility but were so, well, uninspiring to build a Christmas dinner around. Then, when other friends couldn't make a crab-centric Christmas Eve dinner, and being the flexible sorts we are, we subbed in pork chops for the evening's dinner and switched Dungeness crab onto the menu for Christmas Day.

It's a move Dick Button would have effused over as equivalent to a triple Salchow followed by a not-in-the-program quad Lutz, an audacious reconfiguration (though perhaps I exaggerate a tad…). In any case, both dinners were executed in delicious fashion, but I was left with a mountain of crab shells. I was bagging them up to throw in the compost bin when lightning struck. "Throw them out?" a voice boomed in my head, "Are you kidding?"

So many possibilities!

You see, I've become addicted to having fish stock on hand for fish-based risottos, paellas and chowders. But the stock made from the whole fish we buy, after roasting the carcasses, just doesn't supply enough to carry us for long. I'd read about making stock by boiling the shells from shrimp, and then my friend Hank Shaw posted about a crab stock he makes by adding vegetables and herbs to the shells. But since I prefer my stocks simple and unseasoned—the better to adapt to various types of uses—and with a pile of Dungeness shells at the ready, I simply threw them into a pot, covered them with water and let them simmer away for about 45 minutes on the stove.

Strained through a fine mesh sieve and cooled on the counter, I now have several quarts at my beck and call. Bouillabaisse, anyone?

For a plethora of seriously great crab recipes, from crab cakes to chowders to pasta dishes, see the previous posts in the series: 2009, 2010, 2011; 2012 and 2013.

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: Crab Niçoise, Anyone?

It was another one of those nights when dinner inspiration was as rare as a 100° summer day in Portland…um…strike that.

It was another one of those nights when dinner inspiration was as rare as a unicycle-riding bagpiper in P…er…never mind. You get the idea.

Suffice it to say that we had no idea what would appear on our table that evening, and going out to eat just wasn't in the budget. So we traipsed to the store with the vague idea of grilling something or other. But there, in the seafood section of the case, we spied several very large, very red, very ready-to-eat Dungness crabs. Eureka!

We had the helpful attendant wrap up the largest one, brought it home, picked it clean and scattered it on top of what I'd like to think was a brilliant stroke of genius…crab niçoise!

Crab Niçoise

1 cooked Dungeness crab, approx. 1.5 lbs., picked clean
1/2 lb. fingerling potatoes, cooked till tender and sliced into 1/8” rounds
1 c. pitted kalamata olives, roughly chopped
1 large head romaine, or 2 small, torn into pieces, about 6 c. total
2-3 Tbsp. capers
4 hard-cooked eggs, quartered and roughly chopped
2 green onions, cut in 1/8” diagonal slices
1 bunch asparagus, steamed till just tender and cut into 1” slices
Juice of 2 lemons
1/3 c. olive oil

Combine elements and toss. Serve with sliced ciabatta.

This year's Crustacean Celebration also features a fabulous Crab and Corn Chowder and Beach Cioppino. Read last season's series starting with And They're Off!, and the previous year's series kicking off with a Hot Artichoke and Crab Dip (with links to other posts in the series).

Crustacean Celebration: DIY Crab & Corn Chowder

Like many city folk, I've left lots of my life's tasks to the more able hands of others. Vehicle maintenance, sewing my own clothing and remodeling the house among them. I delved into butchering meat with Roger the pig. But I'd always delegated cleaning crabs to the person behind the fish counter at the store because it was easier and, frankly, because I didn't want to deal with the "yuck" factor of the gooey bits.

Pulling off the back (called the "plate").

Then more adventurous friends started buying live crabs, boiling them in a big pot and cleaning them, all the while insisting that it wasn't that bad and was simple to boot. So one day I decided to bite the bullet, and when the clerk asked if I'd like it cleaned, I said, "No, thanks. I'll do it myself." Her look of surprise and respect was totally worth it even if it turned into a fiasco once I got the buggers home.

Plate off, about to get cleaned.

Luckily, our West Coast Dungeness crabs are relatively big and easy to handle. So since it was already cooked, all it took was holding the crab over the sink with the rear of it toward me. I put my thumbs on either side of the body and popped the back plate off. Then I pulled off the feathery white lungs and discarded them and, since I don't use the greenish-yellow stuff called the "tomalley" (it's actually the crab's liver and some people love it), I just ran it briefly under cold water to wash it out. There are usually some bony bits at the front that I tear off, too.

See? That wasn't so bad!

With the crab essentially cleaned at that point, I broke off the legs and cracked the central body in half to make it easier to get the meat out. My friend Hank Shaw wrote and illustrated step-by-step instructions on how to pick the crab meat, so if you need help on that front check out his guide.

Parted out and ready to pick.

With the macho work done, I decided to kick off the Crustacean Celebration this year with a warm and comforting chowder. The weather had been pretty rainy and cold, and I'd seen several recipes that paired corn and crab. So a creamy soup using those two ingredients seemed like a natural fit.

If you do decide to impress your local fishmonger, not to mention your friends and family, with your courage and perspicacity by cleaning your own, you'll have something delicious to show for it when you tell your tale of derring-do.

Corn and Crab Chowder

2 Tbsp. butter or margarine
1 onion, chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 potatoes, chopped into 1/2" dice
2 c. fresh or frozen corn kernels
4 c. fish stock or corn stock
2 c. milk
Meat from 1 large crab, about 1/2-1 lb.
Salt and pepper to taste

Melt butter or margarine in soup pot over medium heat. Add onion and garlic and sauté till translucent, then add potatoes and sauté till potatoes are nearly tender. Add corn and stir to bring up to temperature, then pour in stock and milk. Add salt and pepper to taste. Bring to simmer and cook until potatoes are completely tender and flavors have melded together. Adjust salt and pepper to taste. At this point you can add the crab to the pot until it's just warmed (a minute or less), or divide the crab meat between serving bowls and pour the hot chowder over the top. (The point is to keep the crab as succulent as possible…by the time you get it to the table the crab in the bowls will be warm.)

This year's Crustacean Celebration also features a fabulous Beach Cioppino and Crab Niçoise. Read last season's series starting with And They're Off!, and the previous year's series kicking off with a Hot Artichoke and Crab Dip (with links to other posts in the series).

Fish Tale

Posted at the entrance to the docks at Kelly's Brighton Marina on Nehalem Bay in Rockaway:

"Dr. John. I was at the mouth of the river, looked up—four foot size crab was trying to get into my boat. I attacked it with my oar four times, threw a can of MacTarnahan's at it—then—I swear a killer whale came and ate it!!! Kelly, crab impresario, Sept. 2004"

For a video of Kelly's run-in with some (real) killer whales in Nehalem Bay, see his website.

Crustacean Celebration: The Big Boys Weigh In

They were dubbed the three tenors of Portland chefs: Vitaly Paley, Philippe Boulot and Cory Schreiber. Think what you will of that moniker, but the dinner they orchestrated to celebrate the certification of Oregon's crab industry as sustainably managed by the Marine Stewardship Council (MSC) was a multi-layered symphony to our state crustacean. (OK, OK, enough with the musical metaphors.)

Crab and mushroom shepherd pie.

I received an invitation to the event the week before and couldn't say yes fast enough. It promised not only four courses reflecting the special place that the Dungeness crab, or Metacarcinus magister, holds in our state's food pantheon, but with wines to match from local wineries. See why I hit the reply button so quickly?

Like the certification received by the West Coast albacore fisheries earlier this year, which included tuna caught from California to British Columbia, the crab fishery as a whole, including crabbers and processors, was assessed against rigorous MSC standards. These included assessment of the stock, effect of the fishery on the ecosystem and the fishery management system. It's only one of five in the world to achieve this prestigious designation, and the only one of the five Dungeness fisheries on the west coast to be certified. Is that cool or what?

Ribeye with kale, black truffles and crab.

As for the dinner, it kicked off with a classic crab salad with plenty of shredded crab, grapefruit sections, lovely soft leaves of Oregon chicory and a sprinkling of pomegranate seeds (top photo). The wine was a stunning 2009 Pinot Blanc Estate from Bethel Heights, a spicy, full-bodied, lovely complement to the bright, sweet flavors of the salad, and to my mind the most memorable wine of the night.

The second course was a slightly disappointing crab and matsutake mushroom shepherd's pie, mostly because the crab and mushrooms were indistinguishable from the thick layer of mashed potatoes on top. A good idea, but the execution was lacking, and the Domaine Drouhin 2008 Chardonnay "Arthur" poured with it only confirmed my lack of excitement over the wines I've had from them.

Poached pear with pistachio panna cotta.

But the thick slice of medium rare Carman Ranch ribeye that came next, with a side of creamed kale and black truffle hollandaise and three intact hunks of crab leg on top, was to die for, especially paired with the Penner-Ash 2008 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, a big-but-not-over-the-top, earthy mouthful. The fact that the crab wasn't the focus of the dish but was used as a garnish didn't bother me in the least and, to me, showed that Vitaly Paley has a sense of humor and isn't afraid to bend the rules. Good job!

Crab was noticeably absent but hardly missed in the dessert of poached seckel pear with a pistachio panna cotta perched on a salty, crunchy round of spice cookie, and the Adelsheim 2008 DeGlace of Pinot Noir was nice, but what I really craved was more of that pinot blanc from the first course. Though if at this point you're thinking, "Well, wah wah wah, Kathleen, too bad for you…" I wouldn't blame you, since over all this crab-filled performance piece deserved a standing O.

Check out this season's Crustacean Celebration series: Pasta with Crab and Radicchio, Deadly? I Think Not, and Let Them Eat Cakes. See also: last season's series starting with Hot Artichoke and Crab Dip (and links to other posts in the series).

Crustacean Celebration: And They're Off!

I can't believe how excited I was for crab season to start this year. After last year's marathon Crustacean Celebration, the countdown to the start of the season was excruciating. Because of dickering over prices that crabbers would receive and conflicting results of test for something called meat fill, it was possible that the season could be delayed for as long as two weeks.

But when I went to the northern Oregon coastal town of Seaside on Thursday and stopped in at the shrine to crabbiness that is the Bell Buoy (left), they had freshly caught crabs aplenty. My friend Michel and I whipped up a fresh crab salad with some romaine, slivered fennel and a lemon vinaigrette and dove in. Supplemented by a loaf of Dave's wonderful homebaked sourdough and a glass (or two) of rosé, its sweet, slightly salty meatiness was the perfect, simple start to a season of indulgence.

I came back home to the news that the crabs had organized themselves into a group called the Dungeness Crab Commission and, in a stroke of brilliance, got themselves certified by none other than the Marine Stewardship Council (MSC) as a sustainably managed fishery. Meaning that it's one of only three crab fisheries in the world to put the MSC label (right) on its products, and the only one of the five Dungeness fisheries (CA, OR, WA, B.C., AK) along the West Coast to be certified. Those are some crazy smart crabs!*

I'd purchased two more whole crabs on the way out of Seaside, determined to whip up an appropriately crabby dinner for the troops at home. Pulling out a recipe from last year and, hewing to the original intent (i.e. keeping it crabby), I made a few modifications and was rewarded with the oohs and aahs of satisfied diners.

If you have favorite crab dishes that you put together for your troops (or even just yourself), please share them in the comments below. It's looking like we're in for another banner year!

Pasta with Crab and Radicchio
Adapted from Tyler Florence, the Food Network

2 Dungeness crabs, approx. 1 lb. each
1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 c. finely chopped shallots
2 Tbsp. finely minced garlic
2 whole Mexican hot red chiles
1 c. rosé
1 lb. pasta
1 small head radicchio, thinly sliced into chiffonade
Juice of 1 lemon, straining out the pulp and seeds
Finely grated parmesan or, for a nice change, extra-sharp cheddar for sprinkling

Bring 6 quarts water to boil and add 2 tablespoons salt.

Pull carapace off of cooked crabs (the large red outer shell). Under running water, clean off all the gills until you're left with the hard shell of the body beneath. I normally rinse out the "tamale" or ochre-colored bits that some people consider a delicacy (you can have them cleaned by your fishmonger if this is all too real). Remove the meat from the cleaned crab and collect in medium-sized bowl.

In a large sauté pan, heat the oil until smoking. Add the shallots, garlic and chiles and sauté until golden brown, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add the wine, bring to a boil. Cook the pasta in pot of boiling water according to the package instructions, until just al dente, and drain.

Remove the whole chiles from the wine sauce. Add the drained pasta to the pan with the wine mixture and return pan to heat. Add crab and radicchio and toss briefly until radicchio is slightly wilted, about 1 minute. Pour the lemon juice over the top. Pour into a warm serving bowl, sprinkle with the cheese and serve.

* Seriously, the Dungeness Crab Commission is an industry-funded agency tasked with "enhancing" the Dungeness crab industry.

Check out this season's Crustacean Celebration series: The Big Boys Weigh In, Deadly? I Think Not, Let Them Eat Cakes, Parallel Universe and last season's series starting with Hot Artichoke and Crab Dip (and links to other posts in the series).

Crustacean Celebration: Chowder-rific!

Can you say $2.99 to $3.99 per pound for cooked crab on sale?

Why so cheap? Well, crab season is winding down, and prices are falling at the store for this most precious of seasonal delights. In the spirit of getting it while the getting's good, we attended another crab feed with friends Denise and Keith the other night for an evening in their new garage and a rousing game of flip-cup. (Trust me, it's not a game you want to play in the house.)

Then last night, since my friend Norma Cravens of Springwater Farm had blessed me with her recipe for a crab and mushroom chowder and I wanted to try it before the crabs scuttled away till next season, I ran to the store and picked one up. Cooked and cleaned, of course.

With the recommended dash of dry sherry, this is a magnificent chowder, more stew than soup, and definitely guest-worthy with a crusty loaf and Caesar salad. Rich and luscious, it would be perfectly complemented by a smooth sauvigon blanc or bright French chardonnay.

All I can say is, "Thanks, Norma!"

Crab and Wild Mushroom Chowder
Adapted from Norma Cravens of Springwater Farm

2 tsp. unsalted butter or margarine
1 Tbsp. garlic, minced
1/2 c. yellow onion, finely chopped
1/4 c. celery, minced
1 leek, white part only, chopped fine
1 lb. fresh mushrooms, coarsely chopped
1 Tbsp. dry sherry
2 russet potatoes, diced into ½ cubes
4 c. chicken stock
2 Tbsp. arrowroot or cornstarch
1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
1 Tbsp. sea salt, to taste
1 c. heavy cream (or Tofutti sour cream for the lactose-intolerant)
1 lb. or so fresh crab (meat from 1 med. crab works great)

Melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat. Sauté the garlic, onion, celery and leek in butter until the onion is translucent. Add the potatoes and sauté briefly. Add mushrooms and sauté till tender. Add the sherry and cook for 2 minutes longer.

Add the chicken stock, raise the heat to medium high and bring to a low boil. Blend the arrowroot with enough cold water to form a thick slurry. Slowly add the slurry to the stock while whisking gently, and return to a boil until the mixture begins to thicken slightly.

Reduce the heat and simmer until the potatoes are fork tender. This should take between 20 and 30 minutes. Stir in the salt, pepper and cream and return to a simmer. Remove from heat.

Divide the crabmeat into 8 heated bowls, then add the hot soup and serve.*

* I reserved the larger pieces of crab meat from the legs and claws and used them as a garnish for each bowl, sprinkled with finely chopped parsley.

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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; Beach Cioppino and, of course, a crab feed.

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.

Crustacean Celebration: Beach Cioppino

Nothing's better when you're at the beach than fresh seafood pulled from the ocean that very day, and we make a point of having as much of it as possible when we're there.

Our recent sojourn at the beach involved plenty of crab, oysters and clams, including this terrific cioppino that took less than an hour to put together. Talk about eating local!

Netarts Bay Cioppino

1 crab, shelled, or 1 lb. crab meat
Half dozen oysters in the shell
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1 fennel bulb, trimmed and chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
6-10 green olives, pitted and chopped
2 dried Hungarian aci sivri peppers, chopped, or 1 tsp. red pepper flakes
1 lg. can tomatoes, crushed
2 c. fish stock
2 bay leaves
1 tsp. dried basil
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat oil in deep skillet. Add onions and garlic and sauté till translucent. Add carrots and continue sautéing, then add fennel and green pepper and sauté till all vegetables are tender. Stir in bay leaves and basil, then add crushed tomatoes and fish stock. Simmer at least 1/2 hour or more (recipe can be made ahead to this point, with fish added when ready to serve).

Bring 1/2 c. water to boil in med. saucepan, add oysters, bring back to boil and cook 3 min. Crack open shells and remove oysters. Add oysters and strained broth from cooking to tomato mixture along with crab. Serve with green salad and large loaf of bread for sopping.

Other seafood such as clams and shrimp can be used, and slices of sautéed Spanish chorizo sausage are also terrific.

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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; and killer crab cakes.

Crustacean Celebration: Crab Crostini

I have had a terrible time with crostini lately. Specifically, I've had trouble toasting the thin slices of bread that comprise the base of this infinitely mutable (and delicious) appetizer.

What's so hard about making toasted bread, you might ask? I slice the bread. I turn on the broiler in the oven and, while it heats, I spread out the slices on a cookie sheet. I put the cookie sheet in the oven under the broiler and shut the oven door. So far so good, right? I turn away from the oven for just a moment, to chop something or to let the dogs outside or get a glass of water, and I turn around to check on the crostini and smoke is pouring out of the oven. Again.

It's happened when I'm alone in the kitchen. It's happened when guests were sitting at the counter watching me. But I am refusing to admit defeat. The last time, I made the topping and delegated the broiler portion to Dave. It worked beautifully (especially since I said it was OK for him to have a beer while he watched).

This crostini topping is something you can do for yourself, and would be delicious spooned onto crackers or served on top of mixed greens. Its inspiration was the crostini I had at Genoa recently, though David Anderson's version mixed in a raw egg yolk for richness and topped it with a mound of teeny baby arugula.

Crab Crostini

1 baguette, sliced into 1/4" slices
Olive oil
1 crab, cooked and the meat removed (or 1 lb. crab meat)
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. lemon juice
2 Tbsp. finely chopped parsley
Salt and pepper to taste

Spread baguette slices on cookie sheet, brush one side with olive oil and toast under broiler. Turn over and toast other side. (Don't get distracted!)

Put crab meat in a medium sized mixing bowl and add olive oil, lemon juice and parsley. Mix lightly and season with salt and pepper to taste. Spoon onto toasted bread slices, arrange on platter and serve.

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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; killer crab cakes; and a company-worthy crab-filled cioppino.

Crustacean Celebration: Killer Cakes

It's just one of those things I'm compelled to do. Like the old Lays potato chips line, "Bet you can't eat just one." Or like trying to stop at just one page of cute kitty pictures on I Can Has Cheezburger, it just can't be done.

The delicious mixture.

What am I going on about?

Crab cakes. When I see them on a menu, I have to order them. I'm on a continual quest to find a crab cake that's the freshest, crabbier-than-thou thing I've ever put in my mouth, that's juicy and succulent with just the slightest hint of scallion or celeriac or whatever's been mixed in to pump up the flavor.

Almost ready…

So when I heard that Mark Bittman had a killer recipe for these plump little pillows of delight, and that they were simple to make, I had to try them. And darn if they weren't all their PR said they'd be. So if you're looking for the ideal app for your holiday table or just have a yen for some crustaceous goodness, look no further.

And, by the way, if you're fortunate enough to have one or two left over (or stashed them away before putting them on the table), they're terrific reheated in the oven and topped with a poached egg for breakfast. Just sayin'.

Dungeness Crab Cakes
Adapted from Mark Bittman's indispensable How to Cook Everything
1 lb. fresh lump crabmeat (make sure all cartilage is removed)
1 egg
1/4 c. minced red bell pepper
1/2 c. scallion
1/4 c. mayonnaise
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 Tbsp. plain bread crumbs, or as needed
1 c. flour for dredging
1 tsp. curry powder (optional)
2 Tbsp. peanut, olive or vegetable oil
2 Tbsp. butter (or use all oil)
Lemon wedges for garnish

Mix together crabmeat, egg, bell pepper, scallion, mayonnaise, mustard, salt, and pepper. Add sufficient bread crumbs to bind the mixture just enough to form into cakes. Start with two tablespoons and use more if you need it.

Refrigerate the mixture until you are ready to use it. (It will be easier to shape if you refrigerate it for 30 minutes or more, but is ready to go when you finish mixing.)

Season flour with salt, pepper (and curry if you like, but with good fresh crab it seems like gilding the lily). Preheat a large skillet, preferably non-stick, over medium-high heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the oil and butter and heat until the butter foam subsides. Shape the crabmeat into six cakes, carefully dredge each in the flour, and cook, adjusting the heat as necessary and turning once (very gently), until golden brown on both sides. Total cooking time will be about ten minutes or less. Serve with lemon wedges.

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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; and a company-worthy crab-filled cioppino.

Crustacean Celebration: Dippity Do!

There was a popular hair product when I was a teenager called Dippity Do. It promised, as hair products still seem to do, to make the human equivalent of a bald cat magically transform into a pampered Persian.

Its translucent day-glo colors (pink and green for regular and extra-hold, respectively) and unforgettably awful smell made dipping into a fresh jar an experience both sensuous and revolting. Then smearing it on your hair and rolling the strands onto juice can-sized rollers which, if you were lucky and had a hair dryer or, if you weren't and had to sleep on them till your hair dried, was emblematic of the pursuit of beauty at all costs. Especially since the beauty part didn't usually turn out exactly as one might have hoped.

And the food at the holiday parties one attended after that gauntlet of preparations seemed to cause the same reactions of sensuousness and revulsion, though the colors were (only somewhat) more subdued. Velveeta cheese squares on saltines topped with a pimento olive slice. Cheese balls molded from gummy, flavorless cheese-like substances and rolled in chopped walnuts that looked like something that had plummeted from the sky. And who could forget the dry little meatballs covered in barely reconstituted cream of mushroom soup, not to mention the day-glo Vienna sausages?

But there were gems scattered among the lumps of coal on those tables that I remember fondly and still crave at this time of year, particularly the dips consumed with crunchy, salty potato chips. They were usually simple, creamy and whipped up in moments. I ran into a descendant of those classics not long ago and thought now might be the perfect time to share it, with holiday parties coming up that might benefit from a jewel on the table.

Hot Artichoke and Crab Dip
From New Seasons Market

1 14-oz. can artichoke hearts (Trader Joe's brand are a great value)
1/4 c. capers
6 oz. crab meat (fresh is better and cheaper if you buy a whole crab and crack it yourself, but canned works, too)
1 c. parmesan, finely grated
1 c. mayonnaise

Drain and chop artichokes. If using canned crab, drain well and combine with artichokes, capers, cheese and mayonnaise. Put in baking dish and bake for 20 minutes at 350°. When warm and bubbly serve with your favorite crackers, baguette slices or tortilla chips. (Also makes a great stuffing for salmon fillet or chicken breast.)

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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; killer crab cakes; crab crostini; and a company-worthy crab-filled cioppino.

Crustacean Celebration: 'Tis the Season to be Crabby

Remember how November here at GSNW was all about mushrooms? Well, that was so last month. Here in the Northwest, December is all about crabbiness…and not because I get all Scroogey about the holidays with its cheery cherubs singing on street corners and jolly decorations and endless recycling of Perry and Bing and Nat.

I loves me the mis.
No, I'm talking about that king of crustaceousness, that most luscious of briny denizens, our very own Dungeness crab. Its Latin name, Cancer magister, means "king crab" and it truly rules this time of year. I'd been hankering to have some since the season opened in mid-November, and last night provided the perfect opportunity.

Ready for its debut.

My brother had raved about a pasta with crab recipe he'd found last year, so I decided that it would be the ideal kick-off to our very own month-long celebration of the crustacean. I hope to learn how to make perfect crab cakes and maybe a few other classics, so feel free add a comment about your favorite dish, or even a recipe if you have one.

Pasta with Crab and Radicchio
Adapted from Tyler Florence, the Food Network

1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
3 shallots, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 tsp. red chile flakes
1 c. dry white wine
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
1 lb. pasta
1 lb. fresh crab meat
1/2 head radicchio, thinly sliced into chiffonade
2 scallions, thinly sliced
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Parmesan for sprinkling
Parsley for garnish

Bring 6 quarts water to boil and add 2 tablespoons salt.

In a 12 to 14-inch deep sauté pan, heat the oil until smoking. Add the shallots, garlic, and chiles and sauté until golden brown, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add the wine, bring to a boil, then add the butter, and remove from heat. Cook the pasta in pot of boiling water according to the package instructions, until just al dente, and drain.

Add the drained pasta to the pan with the wine mixture and return pan to heat. Add crab, radicchio, and scallion and toss until radicchio is wilted, about 1 minute. Squeeze 1/2 lemon over the top. Pour into a warm serving bowl, sprinkle with a bit of parmesan and parsley and serve.

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Check out these other examples of the crabby-licious goodness that is the Crustacean Celebration at GoodStuffNW: hot artichoke and crab dip; killer crab cakes; crab crostini; and a company-worthy crab-filled cioppino.

Gettin' All Crabby

My pal (and GSNW contributor) Laurie was regaling us with her latest adventure, a trip to the coast to go crabbing. I asked her if she'd write it up, and she graciously agreed to share once again.

This past summer, I partook in crabbing for the first time, which is more fun than a barrel of, well, crabs. I was a rookie crabber, but I was with a crew of seasoned amateurs who had done it before. We headed to Netarts and hit Big Spruce RV Park and Boat Rental, where you can rent a nifty little aluminum boat and crab cages complete with bait (frozen raw chicken and raw fish). You also get a special crab “ruler” which helps you determine which crabs are large enough to keep.

Crabbing is pleasantly straightforward in a physical sort of way: First, you fasten slimy frozen bait to the bottom of the cages, putt around the bay, hurl the cages overboard at staggered intervals and let them sit for about 20 minutes. Then you pull the cages back in.

And that’s when the real fun begins.

Several squirming, snapping crustaceans had clambered into the netted cages, and much squealing and swearing ensued as we tried to measure the “keepers”—large males—and toss back females and small ones, all the while trying not to getting pinched by agitated crabs hanging onto the cages for dear life. We found ourselves swinging between the thrill of the hunt and feeling bad for the little critters. At one point, I asked a fellow crew member (who happened to be a doctor) if crabs had feelings. She paused, then answered. “Well, I think it’s more like they have sensations." Somehow, this made us all feel a better, as if we weren’t causing them any “real" pain.

After our exhilarating expedition, we headed back to land with our haul, where the friendly and helpful folks at Big Spruce cleaned our crabs, explained the difference between Dungeness and Rock crabs, then sent us happily on our way with our catch.

Curried Corn Crab Cakes
Adapted from Cooking Light

Laurie's friend Peggy, who is "a seriously good cook," according to Laurie, made these crab cakes the next night.

3/4 c. fresh corn kernels (about 2 ears)
1/4 c. finely chopped onion
1/4 c. diced red bell pepper
1/2 tsp. curry powder
1 garlic clove, minced
1 lb. lump crabmeat, shells removed
1/3 c. mayonnaise
3 Tbsp. minced fresh cilantro
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh mint
2 Tbsp. fresh lime juice
1 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 large egg whites
10 Tbsp. dry breadcrumbs, divided
4 tsp. vegetable oil
Lime wedges

Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add first 5 ingredients; saute 4 minutes or until vegetables are soft. Place mixture in a large bowl; cool completely. Stir in crabmeat; set aside.

Combine mayonnaise and the next 5 ingredients (mayonnaise through egg whites) in a small bowl. Gently fold mayonnaise mixture into crab mixture. Stir in 7 tablespoons breadcrumbs. Divide mixture into 8 (3/4-inch-thick) patties. Dredge patties in 3 tablespoons breadcrumbs.
Heat oil in pan over medium-high heat. Place patties in pan; cook 4 minutes. Turn patties, and cover pan; cook 4 minutes or until done. Serve with lime wedges.

Details: Big Spruce RV Park, 4850 Netarts Hwy. West, Tillamook. Phone 503-842-7443.