Not Too Shabby: Plenty of Crabby!

Things are looking up for crab season. RLT is doing a good job of keeping me informed of the local news and today's installment shows hope. Crabs are coming in around 2 pounds, which is great! But what I'm really excited about is the suggestion that next year the crabs will be even bigger. Here's a picture of a friendly fellow from the article.

Boo To Bleak

My dad forwarded me a article from the Contra Costa times that is casting a shadow on my Crabfest 2010 outlook: Commercial Crab Season Looking Dismal. The subtitle says something about unusually small crabs that I'm trying to suppress. Instead I'm trying to focus on the happy fisherman holding a large wiggling crustacean.

I seem to recall a similar foreboding for last year and that didn't stop us. In fact, I clearly remember PW saying something like, "Oh, we shall have crab--all that we need! I guarantee it." Good man. Indeed Crabfest 2009 was bountiful regardless of what was happening on the fishing boats.

Apparently one local food that is plentiful this year is pomegranate. RLT has sent me a recipe for pomegranate crab crepes to put into the running for this year's menu. I have to say I'm excited by the idea of a crepe. We've had cups, cakes, and bisques, but never a crepe! Crepes are delicate enough in flavor to really allow the flavor of the crab to come through. I have to wonder why we have not reviewed any crepe recipes before when they are clearly an ideal home to a mound of fresh crab meat and savory sauce. The stuffing includes familiar flavors such as cilantro, garlic, and white wine, and also some texture surprises such as pomegranate seeds and green apples. Yum!

I don't care how small the crabs are this year. At least a few of them will proudly supply a Crabfest course or two. I invite you to submit any other recipes that you've been earmarking this year. Boo to the bleak outlook of crab season! Let the spreadsheet preparations begin!

Dad's Crab Dinner Report

Hi Caroline:

Mom, Elaina and I had a very enjoyable repast at Pleasant Hill's Left Bank restaurant this evening. I was very appreciative to have read the musings of Paul and Heather prior to going. I read Heather's account of the Muscadet and the oysters. When I sat down and picked up the menu the first thing I noticed was that they very appropriately had Muscadet as one of their offerings by glass, carafe or full bottle, which of course put me in the right frame of mind immediately! The second thing my eye caught was oysters on the half-shell. So before even looking at the rest of the menu I ordered the oysters and a carafe of Muscadet to be brought immediately. One of the benefits of going with Mom and Elaina is that neither one drinks wine nor likes oysters on the half shell ..... thus they were mine alone! So Heather's writing got me off to a good start.

I must give Paul a big A+ for his endeavor in holding nothing back in quest of what hopefully would have been (should have been) the best crab offering possible in the supposed dungenesss crab capital of San Francisco, but after reading his dilemma I had to give Left Bank a pretty good report.

When I made the reservation eight days ago I first called the restaurant and told the host that answered, "Before I book my reservation with Open Table please confirm that you are taking part in the SF Dungeness Crab Celebration". He gave me a resounding affirmative. I further asked, "And you will have the cookbook also"? I again got an affirmative. So not only was the staff aware, but in fact they were enthusiastic. So off I went tonight, utilized the services of the valet parking (why engage in the stress of looking for a parking place?), and entered the restaurant. The first thing I noticed in the lobby was a floor stand announcing the crab event, and the sign was totally encircled with cutouts of crabs while the opposite side of the lobby had some other display calling attention to the special. So they did a decent job of playing it up.

The two special dishes that they offered were both in the appetizer category, and neither was a staple of their regular menu. One item was crab cakes and the other item was a crab salad. Both were superb. The first dish consisted of two fairly large crab cakes that were very pronounced in their flavor. They were not the seemingly 100% solid crab meat that we had previously experienced at Ruth Chris, but the amount of dungeness crab in the recipe was substantial and the flavor really came through. It was accompanied by a tartar sauce that was obviously prepared fresh in the kitchen; it was very good and complimented the crab cake very well. Also on the dish was a freshly made cole slaw that was also quite good. Mom is not a cole slaw fan, but she cleaned her plate of this one!

I must say though that the crabcakes that Paul made at the previous crabfest (the one that I actually could partake of!) are still Number One!

The crab salad consisted of a very mild (but flavorful!) red pepper flan in the center of the plate dressed on each side with slightly crunchy french green beans that were split lengthwise in half. On each side of the base of the flan was a very thin line of a green creamy substance which Mom thinks was an extremely mild wasabi which gave the flan just a very slight tang. Then one-half of the dish just to one side of the flan and slightly overlapping it was a generous pile of fresh crab which in turn was covered by frisee. The Musdcadet paired beautifully with both dishes.
The other food items that we ordered were also excellent and the service at our table was flawless, so we had a great night. For her entree Elaina ventured to have a marinated venison that was in a red wine reduction sauce and accompanied by walnuts and miniature chestnuts. She was very pleased with it. Prior to the arrival of the bill the Maitre D came to the table and personally presented me with my cookbook, so I didn't even have to ask for it.
Retrospectively, however, I would say that if I hadn't already been aware of Paul's critique I would have come away disappointed that more crab selections were not offered. Such a potentially great food event with such a great food item as its "star" should have featured at least one main entree offering and additionally an offering of pure crab such as some chilled, cracked crab or possibly a fresh crab meat cocktail.

Obviously each restaurant selects their own offerings. In response to my inquiry the two offerings that we had would be the same two each night for the duration of the promotion. Thus you could not go back another night and experience a different daily special dish.
Like Paul, I think that the cookbook they provided looks very good and has a lot of promising future recipes. I like all the color pictures that they have in the book, although I do not like their choice of print color. I find a lot of it to be difficult to read, but that is probably due to my eyes not being real sharp and requiring a lot of bold contrast. I was hoping that the food served at the restaurant would be chosen from among the items within the cookbook, but that does not seem to be the case. The two we had tonight I did not notice in the book, and also did not notice the dish that Paul described as being in the book either.

One thing is abundantly clear.......

The greatest restaurants and chefs in the San Francisco bay area.....

DO NOT TOP THE GREAT MARTINEZ CRABFEST AND CERTAINLY DO NOT EXCEED THE ENTHUSIASM AND EXPERTISE OF THE MARTINEZ CRABFEST CHEFS !

Looking forward to next year !!!

The Dad

Heather's Reply to Paul's Letter

Paul and fellow Crabfestians:

The English professor in me has won the contest against the Crabfestian in me to see who gets to speak first in my comments about your extraordinary and hilarious contribution to Crabfest lore. So here goes: I was so taken by the writing I had to take a t.v. time out, regroup, and then reread for the Crabfest content. What a read! I just loved it. It also makes me realize that we must have received a very quality education at our respective Catholic schools (Mr. Tancredy -- that was a shout out to all parents who agreed to pay Carondo/De La Salle tuition). You and Caroline both write so beautifully.

Sadly, my contribution to continuing Crabfest into the new year is neither as glamorous nor as gallant nor as well written. That's okay. I am content to be the newest and most unexperienced addition to the team. Regardless, I was thinking of all of you when friends and I celebrated my 36th birthday at a wine bar Tuesday night (when, incidentally, I had a freudian slip and called it my "thirty sick" birthday, and I was not even tipsy; but that, as Caroline would say, is a story for another day). As we gathered around a delightfully casual table and ordered the "happy hour oysters" in abundance, Aram asked the waiter what wine would pair best. The answer (and don't ruin it for me kids, I know you wine-people already know): Muscadet! It was perfect. At which point I had two thoughts/reactions, both of them including the Crabfest team:

1. Have I learned nothing from our experience? Clearly not enough to transform my ordering experience in the here-and-now. Let me clarify. When I arrived at the wine bar after a day that was frankly just too damn demanding for a girl who likes her birthday, I ordered with relief my standby, which is some type of sassy and satisfying red. Dave actually ordered it for me when I was in the loo, so I am not even sure what I got. It was good, though; competent, not extraordinary. And then Aram arrived . . . had the forethought to ask the waiter what went well with the oysters . . . and received the perfect wine for the dish at hand, which was the aforementioned Muscadet
.
Now, Aram has an unfair advantage over me since he is gay (and everyone knows the gays order better) and more patient. But still, I think his advantageous ordering and my misstep came down to this: I was so relieved to have a glass of wine, I did not adopt any of the lessons that my long affiliation with the Tancredy family or my equally long friendship with Paul taught me.

I mean, come on. Mr. Tancredy is the one who taught me how to drink wine, at least how to drink wine that does not come out of a box (which was a favorite of mine during my Spain days); additionally, Crabfest is dedicated to the whole concept not only of crab, but also of what wine goes best with certain crab preparations (I should have abstracted that lesson to all seafood, at least). And another thing: nothing gives me the giddy delight as eating, cooking, or ordering with Paul and Caroline (and now, my new BFF's, Mike and Kate). It is like being the geeky student I was born to be all over again -- I get to sit back and absorb all of the knowledge that they both have of food and wine pairing (apparently, being an Aquarius also gives me my propensity to like it when others tell me what to think).

Quite frankly, the professor in me is annoyed at the student in me. Luckily, because it was my birthday, Aram let me have as many drinks of his wine as I wanted. It just occurred to me that I actually could have ordered my own Muscadet, but clearly I was not working with a full deck, people.

2. My second thought: I will take any occasion to reminisce publically and at length about Crabfest. This is not something I normally like to do, by which I mean telling long and intricate stories about some extraodinary experience that I had but none of my listeners were a part of. That just does not seem like much fun for all parties involved. But Crabfest, as we all know, is in its own category of a-story-that-must-be-told. Of course, my wine ordering debacle gave me the perfect opening to tell my Crabfest experience all over again. It was to my benefit that everyone had to listen to me because it was my birthday.

May Crabfest forever live on.

H

PW's Crab Event

Well, all week I envisioned that this morning I would be able to write you a glowing review of the opening night of San Francisco Dungeness Crab Week, highlighting all the different ways in which crab was offered and the delicious creations I was able to sample and that we might some day replicate at a Crabfest. Alas, it appears San Francisco has a substantially different idea of how to run a “Crab Week” than we would. Continue reading at your own crab-loving risk…

So just to set the stage, when I first read about SFDCW, I was of course ecstatic. Finally, the restaurants in the city were going to formally celebrate something that we had been celebrating for quite some time. What a great idea. The print, in bold, on Opentable.com, where I first read about the event, was “Enjoy Dungeness Crab in signature dishes or special tasting menus at restaurants across the Bay Area.” Signature dishes! Special Tasting Menus!! In bold!!! Hooray!!!!! And, what’s more, if you paid with your Visa Signature Card, you got a “commemorative cookbook featuring Dungeness Crab signature recipes from San Francisco ’s leading chefs, while supplies last.” A whole cookbook devoted exclusively to Dungeness Crab??? Wow, God really does listen.

Now some may argue that my expectations and enthusiasm were a little too high but this is crab we’re talking about. I didn’t expect them to understand. But you understood. I understood. It was going to be awesome. I looked at the restaurants listed, searched for the one I thought had the best food along with a history of embracing local ingredients, and chose Jardinere. Not exactly your bargain choice but hey, when it comes to crab, I’m not going small. I’m going big. Thursday night, February 19, opening night of SFDCW. Table for 2. Book it. I am ready. I might even wear my crabfest t-shirt underneath.

The first hint of trouble came when I got the call from Jardinere confirming my reservation. I told them yes, I would be there, and then asked them to confirm that they would have the Crab Week cookbooks available, since it was to be the first night of the event and I was concerned they might not have arrived yet. “Cookbooks? Crab Week? What are you talking about?” said the reservationist. Hmmmm. There must be something wrong here. I asked, “You aren’t participating in San Francisco Dungeness Crab Week?” “No, we aren’t,” she said. Hmmmm again. I kept the reservation, hoping she was just unaware, but was disappointed that the restaurant clearly hadn’t made the effort to educate those on the front lines. Somehow I think I also imagined some decoration and fan fare adorning the restaurant. Dishes with crabs on them. Red streamers from the ceilings. But clearly they weren’t around if this person was so oblivious.

Undaunted, I started calling the other restaurants listed. La Folie. 1300 on Fillmore. Grand Café. Bix. Betelnut. Sadly, Jardinere was not alone in its clueless response. Even those aware of the event didn’t appear to be doing anything special for it. Waterbar, for instance, said that, yes, they would have cracked Dungeness Crab available. “Don’t you always have cracked Dungeness Crab on the menu?” I asked. “Yes.” “So, it’s no different than usual, there isn’t a special on the menu featuring crab?” “No.” Where were the signature dishes?!? Where were the special tasting menus?!? Where was the bold font?!?

I finally stumbled upon one place that was not only aware of SFDCW, but enthusiastic about it: Fifth Floor. Also not exactly your bargain choice but at this point, I was just thrilled to get a positive response. She told me they would have “several dishes” featuring crab. She didn’t know exactly what the tasting menu would entail, and didn’t think it would be all crab, but guessed it would have one or two crab-themed dishes in it. Ok, no special tasting menu, but “several” signature dishes. Now we’re talking. Fifth Floor it is. I canceled Jardinere. I’m going big. Thursday night, February 19, opening night of SFDCW. Table for 2. Book it. I am ready!

In everybody’s life a little rain must fall, my dad always said. And ladies, rain fell on table 14 at the Fifth Floor restaurant last night. Abbey and I sat down, opened our menus, and found one dish that had crab. One dish. The tasting menu had zero. I had been duped. Crab lovers everywhere had been duped. Dungeness Crab Week? They didn’t even have Dungeness Crab Night! I wanted to get up and leave in protest.

But where else would I go? I hadn’t found anywhere else with signature dishes or special tasting menus. And the one dish did look pretty good. I decided one answer would determine if I were to stay or go. When our server returned to take our drink order, I asked, “Do you have the commemorative crab cookbook? Will I get one if I pay with my Visa Signature card?” “Yes. It has 44 recipes in it, each from a different restaurant in San Francisco and each featuring Dungeness Crab” Ok. I’ll stay. Forty-four crab recipes is worth it.

So we stayed. We both started with the lone crab dish, the Cappucino de Crabe. It was excellent. The bottom of the dish was filled with fresh crab meat, though remained unseen and covered in a truffle foam. Then, poured into the foam at the table, was a crab bisque, which we each paired with a glass of sherry (per the sommelier’s recommendation). The dish overall was a tad too salty but that’s really splitting hairs. Overall, it was outstanding, and the combination of the crab meat, bisque and foam in one spoonful was a textural nirvana in your mouth. The sherry also made for a very nice pairing and helped cut some of the richness of the bisque.

While that dish alone didn’t entirely quell my disappointment in the meal, I will say that the recipe book alone appears to make the entire ordeal and disappointment worth it. It isn’t some well presented leather-bound hardcover tome, but the recipes contained within are plentiful and varied, and there are several I anticipate entering future Crabfests. They all look amazing and don’t just list crab as an ingredient, they feature it. And not just any crab, but Dungeness Crab. I plan to take it to Kinko’s this weekend and make copies to send, if they’ll let me. If not I’ll try and scan it next week and email you the .pdf so you can peruse them yourselves.

Anyway, while SFDCW was less than my original expectations it was at least a step in the right direction and hopefully the cook book will serve us well for many Crabfests to come. Despite all the fan fare, I realized that even in a city such as San Francisco , Crabfest Martinez is unparalleled in its enthusiasm and commitment to the Dungeness Crab, and it made me appreciate my fellow Crabfestians even more.

In Crabhood,

Paul

United, We Crab!

Oh my! Recently there has been a flurry of crab talk about the San Francisco Dungeness Crab Week. It started with Kate spreading the crab buzz that Open Table was sponsoring some sort of San Francisco crab event. Paul had already heard about it and had reservations in place. All I could do was drool and self medicate with alcohol since I don't live in the area. As a person who is deprived of local crab consumption, I have every right to insist that I be given the full crab report after my fellow crabfestians have feasted, preferably with photos attached. I fear that they give their report out of respect, much like telling your sleeping parents that you are now safely home and have met your curfew.

I did not anticipate that the Open Table Crab Event would inspire such a flurry of writing among the Crabfestians, and that they would so enthusiastically share their experiences. I must confess that I did enjoy it! Dare I say that I enjoyed the banter more than the opportunity to dine? Well, I've said it before: the only thing better than food--particularly crab-- is sharing the love of food with the people you love! At least, I think I've said it before in one form or another. The swelling of pride and unity that I felt as my crabfestians returned from dining establishments, unable to supress their crab joys and disappointments, and compelled to document their experiences both poetically and emphatically, was nothing short of awesome.

I am posting our Crab Event reviews and commentary to document how serious we are about our crab and our beloved crabfest. Thanks to Paul, Heather, and RLT for sharing your stories, which so aptly demonstrate that we are indeed united in crabhood.

Treasure Hunters

My second favorite day of the year could very well be the day before Crabfest when Kate and I set out to acquire the necessary ingredients for the carefully selected crabfest recipes and end the day with an indulgent sushi dinner at Kirala. It is especially fun since Kate knows the whereabouts of the many specialty markets in Berekely and happily taxis us around in search of our loot. It reminds me of a grown up version of a treasure hunt.

Kate and I make a good treasure hunting team. I have the list, organized both by category and recipe, and she has the mental map. I might say something like, "Okay, we need spices like star anise, cloves, and cinnamon." She squints her eyes in thought and says, "I think there's an Indian market a mile down on the right." Off we go! She is right about the locale of the market, of course. You might not even know it's an Indian market because the doors are covered in Indie movie posters and fliers. But when you walk in, you are hit with the glorious smells of cumin and cardamon, and you see a counter full of homemade Indian goodies. Samosa anyone? Kate and I are overcome with giddy delight as we realize we are in a mecca of Indian spices, grains, sauces, and cookware. We seriously have to suppress the desire to take inventory of the entire store and plan an Indian cooking day instead. I take a moment to thank the Hindi Gods for Berekely and Kate waves me forward because she has found a vat of Basmati rice. She asks, "How much do we need?" I consult the list and reply, "Two cups." She scoops out two cups and we move on to the bin of star anise. Ar! The treasure, she's mine!

Actually, before we made it to the Indian food market, we made 3 other notable stops: a market I refer to as That Market Next To Oliveto, the home of Kate's friends, and an Asian food market that was going out of business. That morning Kate picked me up from the BART station near her house and we made our way to College Avenue to pick up some pastries for our coffee date with two lovely souls that Kate has befriended at Holy Names College.

The Market Next to Oliveto is a perfect market. It has fresh made everything--deli salads, baked goods, breads, sandwiches, coffee, wine-- as well as a selection of meats, fresh fish, and imported pastas and cheeses. And although it is covered it has that feeling of being an open air market with cafe tables outside. Of course I had to take another moment to walk that fine line between appreciation for the offerings of the market and self pity that I don't have one in Urbana. (I find that I have to take too many of these moments). After perusing the market like an overactive dog on a walk, pushing my nose up to all the cases and table tops, we set out to meet the sisters.

Two hours and a fantastic cup of coffee later we returned to this market and chose two bottles of wine to pair with the Crab Salad with Spiced Lime Curd and the Cioppino. Kate and I took care to tell the wine steward the intimate details of our dishes: the salad will have the sweet delicate flavor of the Dungeness crab augmented by a lime curd that has a whole teaspoon of cayenne pepper. It shall sit on a bed of bitter frisee. What do you suggest? After considerable debate, we settled on the Hirsh Reisling--not overwhelmingly sweet, but enough sugar to balance the spice.

The Cioppino pairing involved another detailed conversation. In my opinion, it's not easy to find the right wine for a Cioppino. Most, if not all, of the fish in Cioppino is white. But the broth is tomato based and made with red wine. Depending on the recipe, you may also be dealing with a number of spices, herbs, and vegetables (some recipes have carrots and green pepper). I'm sure the Italian San Francisco fisherman who developed this dish didn't stop to think too hard about the wine. They came off the boat, threw what was fresh in a pot of tomato stew, flavored it with garlic and a glass of whatever table wine was nearby--hence Heather's grandfather's recipe calling for 2 cups of wine: one for the pot and one for the chef. But, we epicureans like to strive for simple perfection and we are called to find the right marriage of wine, food, and personal taste. In this case, Kate favors the big reds, I favor whatever won't drown my palate and compete with my precious fish, and Paul goes both those directions with a preference for smooth wines that don't have an alcoholic finish. Given all that and the origin of the dish, Kate and I settled on a medium bodied Italian red than leaned ever so slightly to the heavier side: Castel del Monte Vigna Pedale Riserva Torrevento. Wow, that's a mouthful! Kate was drawn to this wine as a special treat for me since it was produced in Puglia, where my grandparents are from. In fact, the red variety of the Castel Del Monte wines are named for a province in Foggia, which is the city of great grandmother's birth. There's nothing like adding a touch of heritage to a developing tradition with new friends. After all that, did the wine work with the Cioppino? Well, you'll have to wait for the Cioppino post to find out.

After selecting the wine and grabbing a sandwich from the deli (roast beef on focaccia with blue cheese crumbles and veggies), we went to an Asian food and supply store with the hope of finding the wonton soup spoons needed for the Bloody Mary spoons. We didn't find those, but we did find an amazing crab pot for $10. You can boil 2-3 crabs at a time in this beast. I don't even want to think about the quantities of Cioppino that be ladled from it. Talk about finding treasure.

The last stop on our hunt for goods was Ranch 99, located in the same shopping center in El Cerrito as the late great Pu Ping Thai (the butt of many jokes; feel free to post them in the comments). Some people think you haven't lived until you've been to some exotic place like Hawaii or Africa, or perhaps attempted a climb of Mt. Everest, but I think Ranch 99 should be a required stop for people who claim to have "been there, done that." Or maybe it should be a stop on the Amazing Race. It has that kind of energy--the kind that makes you feel like you should enter with your passport in a fanny pack and be prepared for anything, including having to speak 3 languages. When Kate and I were there, I can think of several occasions in which it would have been helpful to speak or read Chinese, Vietnamese, and Spanish. This place is the real deal: authentic and chuck full of hard to find food. You wanna papaya? They have it. You wanna 10 foot pole of lemongrass? They have it. You want some fresh pea shoots? They have them by the bagful. You want a pound of peeled garlic on a Styrofoam plate? No problem. How about some fish heads, seaweed, giant clams sitting in a bath of saltwater, or 12 kinds of fish sauce? You came to the right place.

Now, let's just say you want some Chinese glass noodles to put in some spring rolls. Head on over to Isle 7 and I'll show you some noodles. A good 50 feet of noodles. You might be a little overwhelmed. You want to be sure you get the right noodle. This is no time for the wrong noodle. This noodle could make or break the dish, which could make or break the day. If you're Kate, you look around and you spot a friendly looking woman who looks like the sort who knows her noodles. You ask, "Excuse me, do you know glass noodle?" You grab a package of thin noodles. "Is this the right noodle?"

And here begins an adventure within an adventure. Because this lady isn't just any lady going about her business in Ranch 99. No sirree. This lady cares that you find the noodle for your spring roll. In very broken English, she asks you detailed questions about your spring rolls. She takes a look at the spring roll wrappers that you've chosen. She deduces that you are making a Vietnamese spring roll. She picks up various thin noodle packages and says, "You read this and I read this." The back of the package has descriptions in 3 languages. After about 15 minutes and dissertation worthy deliberation everyone is in agreement on the glass noodle that is required for the Vietnamese spring roll, as well as the noodle that gets you the most bang for your buck.

Then, this lovely, kind-hearted woman with a smile that would melt ice asks you, "Where do you live?" I'm thinking, "This lady wants to know what two young white girls are doing in Isle 7." I say I live far away. Kate says she lives nearby. She says, "Okay, I tell you... I live at 304 Cypress. I think it like a tree. It only 6 block from here. You come see me sometime and I teach you cook Chinese." I love this lady. And I love Ranch 99. And I can't believe that she took so much time to help us find our noodles (kind of like those people on Amazing Race who stop everything they're doing to help the desperate couple find the next clue and then the train station). Kate and I spend another 20 minutes picking out Chinese Soup spoons and Cioppino bowls and I'm pretty sure we are the happiest people in the store. We proceed to the checkout counter and make plans to dine at Kirala--a treasure all it's own.

A Crabfest to Remember

All Crabfests are memorable,but this one was exceptional. However, before I can really dive in to the details of what will undoubtedly be known as the Great Fest of '09, I feel we must have a moment of silence for RLT's taste buds.

Poor Dad. If you can even imagine that life could be this cruel, RLT lost his sense of taste the day before Crabfest due to the relentless near-bronchial-pneumonia illness, of which he still suffers. His coughing is so violent he decided to retreat to the far corner of the house so that he wouldn't disturb the crab fete happening below. Nor did he want to squander crab when those with eager taste buds were available to enjoy the bounty. Yet, he dutifully stayed on hand to assist me with the set up, mix up some cocktails and retrieve wine from the cellar. What a pal! What a Crabfest devotee! We salute you RLT.

And now, a moment of silence.

Sad to say, he really missed out on a great year. Paul came through with all the seafood that we required (despite the bad crab season); Kate and Mike made the morning grocery runs and provided some surprise entertainment; Heather--who shall heretofore be known as the Master of Peanut Sauce--was a crab enthusiast extraordinaire, despite having made cioppino for nearly 30 people the night before; and I prepped the kitchen and set the scene for a great day of boiling, shelling, chopping, pouring, sipping, mixing, sipping, stuffing, spooning, and sipping again! And again.

Every year prior to Crabfest, I ask myself, "Self, are you taking this crab thing too far? Maybe you could go out to dinner and grab some crab in San Fransisco? Is it really necessary to print aprons and t-shirts in celebration of a Pacific food? Does one really need seven courses of crab? I mean, really?" I confess that I worry just a little bit that I am obsessed, and that my obsession is affecting the lives of others who love me too much to tell me that I've gone too far. The spreadsheets alone could warrant concern. I'm waiting for some sort of intervention. My loved ones will sit me down and say, "Caroline, we know it's hard for you to live in that land locked tundra--we'll even go along with your denial of Lake Michigan as a source of water--but we have to cut you off from this crazy obsession with a crustacean." Perhaps they'll suggest a course of therapy involving systematic desensitization where I only eat 3 courses of crab, then 2, then just a bowl of cioppino. Maybe I'll only be permitted to go to California in the off season.

But then a glorious thing happens. Crabfest day arrives and my faithful fellow crab loving friends call to say, "Happy Crabfest Day!" as if it is a national holiday. The beautiful sisters from Holy Names College that I met the day before write to let me know that that my friends and our feast are in their prayers. Friends and family of Crabfest attendants smile and send us well wishes from their corner of the world, knowing that we are coming together in celebration of local seafood and produce, in tribute to the amazing offerings of California, and in honor of friendship. Forecasts of rain give way to sunshine and happiness abounds. Crabfest doesn't require therapy. Crabfest is good therapy!

Over the next couple of weeks, I'll be writing posts about each dish and the wines that we paired with them. Since we all enjoy cooking we modified the recipes as we went along. I can tell you that each dish we made this year was outstanding. In past years there has been a dish that fell short in some way. Perhaps it overpowered the crab, such as the crab corn chowder of '06. Or perhaps the dish was too heavy or rich considering the amount of food we were eating, such as the chilled avocado soup with crab relish of '07. Or the dish was underwhelming considering its placement in the stream of menu items (e.g., the cracked crab last year followed the appetizers and crab cakes, which carried so much flavor, that the cracked crab with butter felt like it needed something). This year, we hit the mark with the ordering of the dishes, the escalation of the wines, and the richness of the ingredients. If we were to prepare the same menu next year, I would happily cry, "Bib me!"

Here’s the Citrus I was Looking For

I just finished making the spicy lime curd for the crab salad. I have to say I’ve never made a curd before. It’s an interesting process, and very easy. You basically stir the ingredients in a double boiler and wait for the curd to form. Then you stabilize it with butter and toss it in the fridge. I took the liberty of sampling from the spatula. The lime flavor is very powerful, and is followed by a healthy hit of cayenne pepper. This salad accessory will please citrus lovers and “heat” lovers alike.

I also made the granita this morning. I think the grapefruit juice, strawberries, and champagne will be in a race to dominate your taste buds. The win will likely go to the champagne. I can tell that this dessert will be a great finish for our crab infused palates.

Next item up in the kitchen is the Ginger Butter for the Thai Garlic Crab. Tomorrow all the plates, glasses, and serve ware arrives. Dad will be here to receive it because I will be out produce shopping with Kate. Can’t wait! Oh, and Happy New Year, everyone.