Anniversary: Crab Cakes

Many weeks ago back in the summer, Ann told me that she'd like crab cakes for our anniversary at the end of September, partly in celebration and partly as a reward for dropping some of this COVID weight. We've both been successful in that mission so far, dropping a combined 17 pounds over the last month of eating carefully, but well. But more importantly, we're celebrating having been married for 8 years now, 8 years that have seemingly flown by, each better than the last.

To find decent crab, which out here in Oregon means Dungeness, I had to go two towns over to the seafood retailer in Newberg, where I bought a pound of crab, a small bag of mussels, and a pound of halibut cheeks. Not only do we have an anniversary to celebrate, but Ann has a birthday coming up in three days, and seafood is our splurge.

Before hitting the seafood store, though, I stopped at what is probably our best retail wine shop to buy a bottle of sparkling wine, because what's better than crab cakes? Crab cakes and sparkling wine!

Crab Cakes

We have not had crab cakes since I closed the restaurant in 2017. Actually, I needed that break after cooking them every night of my life for fifteen years. I really needed that distance. But I am glad to have made them for our anniversary: they were delicious and brought back good memories, memories of the restaurant and of my life most of which has been lived near the Chesapeake Bay, crab central for the East Coast.

My fondest crab memories are not of crab cakes, which have always been restaurant fare and not part of our ordinary lives. In the real world, everyone rolled up their sleeves and cracked crabs and swilled beer like Ann and I did with Jeff and Kelly in Mathews, VA in the summer of 2016. For me, cracking crabs is where the memories are.

My experience cracking crabs started long ago. I crabbed each summer when we would stay down on the Bay for our vacation in a cabin that my aunt owned. There was always a bunch of my mother's family there, coming and going as schedules permitted. Crabs were a big deal and my taste and smell memories of those summers are intense to this day, some 50 years later.

We'd have a big crab feast at least once while we were there, beer-steamed crabs redolent of Old Bay seasoning piled high on the newspaper-clad picnic table on the deck, with a cooler full of Natty Boh for the adults. And if we could get our hands on some peelers, the local name for softshell crabs, my mom and her sisters would make us fried softshell crab sandwiches for lunch. 

We had a chickenwire crab pot that we would toss out of the end of the dock, baited with trash fish, backbones, heads, etc., that I would check a couple of times a day, transferring the crabs to a large wire mesh pot tied off to the dock. I learned early on how to grab a big jimmy from behind to keep him from amputating a finger. As the oldest of all of the cousins who might be there, I was the one handling the crabs.

While the trap yielded some crabs, more came from lines that us kids, and by that, I mean mainly me, would toss out from the end of the dock. The drill with the lines was to drive a nail through a chicken neck and tie off a line to the nail in such a way that the conniving crabs could not make off with the bait. The bait wouldn't be in the water long before a crab would grab it and start dragging it. The idea was to gently pull the line in and elevate the crab off the bottom﹘it wasn't giving up on a free meal that easily﹘to run a dip net under the crab.

Even when I was off fishing at the point where our "creek" met the Bay proper, I'd have a couple of crab lines out. And if I were bottom fishing in the deep channel for flounder, as opposed to top water fishing for bluefish, sea trout, or that prize of all prizes, striped bass, I'd often reel in a crab that could be netted. On my way to and from fishing, I would wade the marshes with a dip net and a bucket looking for crabs. When I would spy one through the clear water, I would stealthily dip net the unsuspecting crab. I became pretty good at it. All these crabs went into the communal pot.

All these memories are now part of me and are inextricably entwined with my love of crab, blue crab, in particular. It may just be those memories coloring my palate, but I swear that blue crab, as hard it is to pick relative to the huge Dungies out here, tastes so much better. Blue is sweeter and more delicate.

If you'd like to read a fantastic book about blue crabs and the waterman's life on the Chesapeake, I highly recommend the Pulitzer Prize-winning Beautiful Swimmers by William Warner. It's a fascinating read about an endangered way of life.

My Lovely Wife of 8 Years

Champagne on the Porch

Before cooking the crab cakes, Ann and I decided to take advantage of the delightful end-of-September weather by having Champagne on the front porch. And not just any old Champagne either: this is Bouzy Grand Cru from Pierre Paillard, from a lieu-dit called "Les Parcelles." I tend to prefer blanc de blancs sparkling made from 100% Chardonnay with seafood, but I know that Ann favors the restrained red fruits in blanc de noirs. This 70% Pinot, 30% Chardonnay cuvée was a wonderful compromise. I hadn't set out to buy Champagne, thinking to get a local sparkler, but the wine merchant dissuaded me. He was not wrong. This was delightful grand cru Champagne at an affordable price.

Making Crab Cakes

Crab Cake Ingredients

I have an extremely minimalist approach when it comes to crab cakes. Crab is wicked expensive (fresh, unpasteurized Dungeness is going for about $40 per pound) and delicately flavored. I do not want to hide all that expensive crab meat behind a lot of filler that might overpower the delicate crab flavor. It is my philosophy that the crab should shine, but people's tastes are all different. While my crab cakes were always mentioned in magazine articles about the restaurant as being outstanding, they were scorned by a few internet reviewers as bland or tasteless.

This means that you will never find seafood seasoning, onions, or peppers in my crab cakes. Never. No highly flavored ingredients at all. My crab cakes are crab, mayonnaise, celery, Italian parsley, panko, white pepper, and salt as necessary. Each pound of crab will yield about five four-ounce crab cakes.

1 pound crab meat

1/2 cup mayonnaise

1 stalk celery, in small dice

1/4 cup minced parsley

1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper

1/2-1 cup panko

salt as necessary

Mix the crab, mayo, celery, parsley, and pepper. Sprinkle on the panko as necessary and gently fold until the mix holds together and is neither too wet or too dry. Taste for seasoning and adjust as needed. Refrigerate for at least an hour. Check the mix before shaping into cakes. If it is too dry to hold together, add a bit more mayo. If it is too wet, add more panko and let it sit a few more minutes.

Here are some lessons learned. For small batches of crab meat, under three pounds, I do not use an egg. For every three pounds of crab, I use one egg. For every two pounds of jumbo lump crab, I would use a pound of lump, so that the smaller lump would help the crab cakes lock together with minimal binder. If your crab is very wet (typical of pasteurized crab meat), squeeze out the excess liquid and use it for soup stock. 

Be sure not to overmix the crab and bust up the lumps, yet distribute the mayonnaise and seasoning well. Add panko sparingly. Once the crab mix will hold together when you squeeze it gently, it is ready for the refrigerator. Refrigerate your crab mix for at least an hour before making it into cakes to give the panko time to absorb moisture and set the cakes.

When frying the cakes, do not crowd them in the pan to help them brown and to give yourself room to work a spatula under the cakes. If you use minimal panko as did, a solid crust is the key to holding the cake together. I used only a scant half a cup, but I do not recommend this for beginners because the cakes are very delicate and easy to break. Make sure to brown both sides well.

Crab Mix Ready for Refrigerator

Frying Crab Cakes