Soft-shelled crabs are something I should like no matter what, as they represent all the good things in life: the ocean, Old Bay seasoning...all that down-east shit which should come naturally to me, but for the fact that I am Ohio trash (great-grandmother a prostitute, etc).So my experiences with them have been met with a sense of obligation, if not innate enthusiasm. I remember having some Asian-y ones once that were good, but, for the most part (and this may be a fault of preparation) they always seem a bit like some sea-flavored crisped phyllo dough.
Until Saturday, when the mighty Rob prepared some in a wee bit of flour with some basil and parsley on them and everything I'd ever known up until then (my name, names of colors, types of clouds) was rendered moot. These pups were actually a bit meaty and all of the sudden I knew that the world had to survive.
1 comment:
I must have missed this before but came across it on a scroll-down tour-o-the-blog. Wow! One bite and you're in a Schwarzeneggerian Total Recall mind warp? Powerful crabs, my friend, powerful crabs.
The "feeble Tish" thanks you for the "mighty Rob" moniker, as well.
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