As a Baltimore native who grew up just miles from the Chesapeake Bay, I was practically raised on steamed blue crabs. One of my city’s nicknames is Crabtown, and there’s a good reason for that. If you’ve spent any time at all in Baltimore or other towns and cities along the Chesapeake, a good old fashioned crab feast is just as much a part of your summer as jaunts to the beach, school vacations and constantly running air conditioners.
I learned to pick my own steamed crabs long before I could make my own toast. The art of cleaning, picking and eating crabs is passed on to Baltimore children early on in life. That’s probably because until you teach your little ones to yank their own crab claws with perfect precision, you’ll be spending most of your time at any crab feast feeding them instead of digging into your own Old Bay covered delicacies.
With crabs as much a part of my background as Saturday morning cartoons, I grew up just assuming that everyone was as experienced with and enamored of these spider-like sea creatures as I was. I learned in my teenage years that this isn’t necessarily the case.
When I was fourteen, my father took my family on a weeklong vacation to a nearby mountain resort. Several of my aunts, uncles and cousins from West Virginia joined us, since our vacation spot was a convenient halfway point between our homes. One afternoon, my father ordered up a bushel of steamed crabs from a local seafood restaurant, and he and an uncle lugged the leggy treasures back to our cabin.
My mother and I excitedly loaded up the picnic table with newspaper, mallets and butter knives. My father pulled some of the choicest offerings from the bushel basket and loaded up the table. We sat down and dug in, and as is always the case we were soon covered in Old Bay and talking to each other over an ever-growing mound of discarded shells.
One of my younger cousins burst into tears and ran into the cabin. She refused to come back outside, proclaiming to her mother and anyone else who would listen that our side of the family was “really, really gross.”
In retrospect, I can kind of understand. To someone who hasn’t grown up on the Bay or been exposed to crab eating, the sight of your kinfolk gathered over a heaping pile of spider-like sea scavengers, tearing them open, sucking their claws and discarding their shells with relish, probably looks like some hideous barbaric ritual.
I have nothing to say in defense of myself and most of the rest of my hometown, other than that it is one heck of a fun and tasty barbaric ritual.
Think about it. When, other than at a crab feast, are adults and children alike both expected and encouraged to eat with their fingers and make a huge, sloppy mess? Steamed crabs aren’t only delicious. They bring families and friends together for pure summer fun, and since it takes a little work to get at the good stuff, there’s usually hours of bonding, laughter and chatter as the meal progresses. Forget about a quick meal slapped on a plate – eating steamed crabs is an event in itself.
So if you’ve never experienced steamed crabs before, and find yourself vacationing in the Chesapeake Bay area or attending a crab feast this summer, give it a whirl. Here are some general pointers to help novices get the most out of a steamed crab feast and hopefully understand why we Chesapeake Bay dwellers can’t imagine life without them.
Preparing for the Feast
– Eat your crabs outdoors. The picnic is part of the fun, not to mention the mess is much easier to clean up when confined to picnic tables on your patio or yard.
– Make sure your tables are covered. Most crab aficionados use Kraft brown paper, but newspaper works almost as well.
– Don’t dress up. Eating crabs is a messy business, especially if they are as covered with Old Bay and other seasonings as any tried-and-true Marylander will tell you they should be. I once attended a crab feast at work, and it became a source of entertainment for the more enlightened among us to watch all the guys in their white shirts and ties try vainly to keep from splattering themselves with seasoning and bits of shell. If you do end up at a crab feast wearing something you put on with “being cute” in mind, do yourself a favor and put on a bib.
– Remove any rings with tiny grooves and crannies, or you’ll be desperately trying to remove bits of seasoning from your jewelry for days to come.
– Slap a band-aid on any paper cuts you may have. Old Bay and other seasonings sting when applied to even the tiniest of wounds.
– Have a crab mallet and a butter knife on hand. True, crab-picking experts can make a meal without them, but they’re honestly a big part of the fun. When else do you get to take a whack at your main course without being told to quit playing with your food?
How to Pick Your Crabs
Die hard Maryland crab feasters might swear there’s a tried and true method for getting at the best parts of a steamed crab. I tend to be of the school that says if you’re having fun and getting yourself fed, then you’re doing alright.
As a general guideline, start by pulling the claws and legs from your crab. If you’re lucky, tasty morsels of meat will remove themselves from the body of your crab along with the claws. Have a nibble and set the claws aside to be feasted on as well – they’re a tasty part of the whole crab-eating process.
Next, open the apron of the crab and pull off the hard top shell. What you see inside might make you a little squeamish, if you’ve never picked a steamed crab before. Just don’t think about what you’re actually doing, use your knife to scrape the guts and goop off the crab, and then break it in half. Now all that’s left to do is dive in and uncover all the tasty bits of crab meat in each nook and cranny.
Tips For Getting The Most Out of Your Crab-Eating Experience
– Once you dig into your steamed crabs, keep your fingers away from your eyes. I’ve seen many a crab-eater have to take a break from feasting after an inadvertent eye rub left them with watering, stinging peepers.
– Have a beer. There’s something about Old-Bay covered steamed crabs and an ice-cold bottle of beer that goes together like peanut butter and jelly or cookies and a glass of milk. I can’t explain it, but it works.
– For many, the taste of a well-seasoned steamed crab is all that’s needed. But if you want to rev it up a bit, have a bowlful of warm butter or malt vinegar on hand for dipping your crab meat. Both are especially tasty with claws.
– Use your mallet to help you open and break your crab, but don’t give in to the temptation to over-whack particularly tough shells and claws. You’ll end up with bits of shell in your crab meat, and you might splatter the friends and family across the table from you too.
– Make a mess. That’s right. It’s part of the fun. When you’ve finished with a crab, toss the shell remnants onto a pile in the middle of the table and move on to your next one. See what kind of mountain of crabby destruction you and your family or friends can build.
– As a general rule, the weightiest crabs are also the meatiest and tastiest. Before you select a crab from the pile, pick it up by a leg and see if it feels full. Don’t let your friends catch you putting one back and pulling another one out though, or you’ll be labeled a “good crab hog.”
– Don’t eat the mustard. For those who don’t know, the “mustard” is the yellowish substances inside the crab that looks … well, like mustard. This stuff is actually an organ responsible for filtering toxins from the crab’s blood. While many actually find it tasty, experts understandably recommend that we don’t eat something responsible for catching all the chemical waste in a scavenger’s system.
After the Feast
– Pick any leftover crabs and use the meat for crab cakes or crab soup.
– Don’t be overwhelmed by the mess, because cleanup is surprising easy. Simply grab a friend or two to help you roll up the paper on the table. Keep all the shells and debris inside the rolled paper. Put everything into a trash bag and tie it up tight. Steamed crabs are delicious and fun, but the remaining mess can get quite smelly and should be contained.
– For some reason, a bit of chocolate goes wonderfully after a feast of steamed crabs. Have a light chocolate dessert on hand to finish up the party.
If you find that the whole picking and eating of steamed crabs experience just isn’t for you, at least you can say you’ve tried. Most who give it a chance come back for more. And if not, you can still have a blast. Next time you’re invited to a crab feast, just throw some burgers or hot dogs on the grill and chow down while you laugh at the sight of your friends and family reverting back to childhood and making a mess of their food. Just don’t call them gross, at least not within earshot.
