Crab

DUNGENESS CRAB CAKES ARE THE QUINTESSENTIAL SEATTLE DISH, and there is much debate around town about which restaurant makes the best. Some local chefs like to add unusual ingredients to their crab cakes, but our only twist is a bit of cheese, which adds richness without overpowering the crab. We use Dungeness for its sweet crab flavor, but blue crabmeat can be substituted. To minimize last-minute preparation, you can refrigerate the crab cakes for several hours before cooking. Allow them to come to room temperature, uncovered, for at least 15 minutes before cooking, as slightly warmer cakes hold together better during cooking. Serving the crab cakes over fresh spinach with a light vinaigrette completes a lunch or dinner.

COBB SALAD IS A LUNCHTIME STAPLE, and when a few new ingredients such as crab, crispy prosciutto, and lime-jalapeño dressing are thrown in the mix, the classic just gets better. The Curried Crab Lumps can be made one day in advance and kept in the refrigerator.

THIS LIGHT SALAD WILL BECOME A GO-TO RECIPE in your kitchen. Taking only minutes to prepare, it can be served as a first course or as a main course for a summer lunch. Or spoon the salad on slices of fresh bread for a seafood sandwich. We prefer Dungeness crab, but King or blue crab can be substituted. Or skip the crab and use prawns, bay shrimp, or lobster instead. Add just a sprinkling of celery seed; its flavor is very strong, and you will need only a very small amount.

NEW ENGLANDERS HAVE THEIR CLAM CHOWDER; here in the Pacific Northwest we also make chowder with fresh local crab. Even better, this soup can be served cold in the summer and warm in the winter months. Don’t let the jalapeño in the recipe scare you; this soup isn’t spicy. Seeded, diced, and sautéed, the jalapeño loses most of its heat and adds a nice undertone to the rich crab and creamy potato.

The delicate sweetness of Alaskan king crab is front and center in this easy-to-make appetizer. The crab legs come already cooked and need only be cracked to extract the pink-flecked succulent meat.

When selecting live crabs from tanks at the market, choose lively ones that feel heavy. Keep them refrigerated and cook them as soon as possible; it’s important to cook them while they are still alive. Once out of water, they start to decline. The easiest way to cook crab is to boil it. Bring an abundant quantity of water to a boil, enough so that the crabs will be easily submerged. (You may only have a pot roomy enough for one or two large crabs, such as Dungeness; if you have more crabs, boil them one or two at a time.) Throw in a lot of salt; the water should taste salty. When it has reached a rolling boil, pick up the live crab between its back legs (to stay clear of its pinching front claws) and drop it in. Start timing the cooking from the moment the crab enters the boiling water. Keep the heat turned up all the way, but don’t worry if it never comes back to a boil. The amount of time the crab will take to cook will be anywhere from 12 to 15 minutes for a Dungeness crab, to just a few minutes for a small blue crab. Ask your fishmongers for their advice, or look online; there are many Web sites with information about cooking and cleaning the many different varieties. The cooked crabs can be cleaned and eaten right away, or cooled briefly in cold water and stored in the refrigerator for up to 2 days. Serve cracked crab with melted butter or homemade mayonnaise (see page 47), with a squeeze of lemon for a little zing. I like to serve a garlic mayonnaise (see page 47) flavored with the orange crab butter (or tomalley) that is found under the shell. Be sure to taste the crab butter first and use it only if it is not bitter. To clean a crab, turn it onto its back and pry up the triangular apron. Pull and twist it off the body. Turn the crab over and grasp it by the corner of the top shell or carapace. Pull it off with a twisting motion. Remove the lungs, the feathery fingers that run along the sides, and the mouth. Scoop out and save the tomalley or crab butter if you like, discarding the white intestine. Rinse the crab clean under cold running water. Split the crab in two (or not) and crack the claws with a mallet or crab cracker. Large crab can be reheated after they have been cooked, cleaned, and cracked; the meat can be picked out or the crab can be reheated later. (The delicate pointed tip at the end of a crab leg is the perfect tool for picking the crabmeat from the shells.) To reheat the crab, brush with melted butter or oil (flavored with herbs and spices if you want) and heat for 5 to 7 minutes in a 400°F or hotter oven, just long enough to heat the crab through. Much of the foregoing advice for cooking crab applies to lobster. Choose lively, heavy lobsters and cook them as soon as you can. Cook lobsters in abundant salted boiling water for 7 minutes. Put the lobster in head first and start timing from the moment it enters the water. Turn the heat down to a simmer if a boil is reached before the time is up (a rolling boil toughens the meat). Cooking lobsters too long also makes the meat tough, so keep an eye on the clock. If you are going to reheat the lobster or add it to a sauté or other dish, cook the lobster for only 5 minutes. Drain the cooked lobster and either serve it right away or cool it down under cold running water or in an ice bath for a few minutes. Lobster can be left whole or split down the middle, or it can be broken down into claws, knuckles, and tails. To do this, twist the tail away from the head and twist off the claws. Crack the claws with a mallet or crab cracker and remove the meat. With a pair of kitchen shears, make a cut down the soft , nearly transparent shell on the underside of the tail. Using a towel to protect your hands, grasp both sides of the tail and bend them back, splitting open the shell along the cut. Pull out the lobster meat. You can also cut the tail in two lengthwise to remove the meat. Some recipes call for cooking a raw lobster cut in pieces. To k...

This refreshing seafood salad is inspired by one I had at an outdoor café in Yucatán, where the cuisine is influenced by Mayan, Caribbean, Mexican, French, and Middle Eastern cultures. Mango and papaya add unexpected sweetness and a tropical twist. I make it for brunch with friends, and serve it with tall glasses of guava iced tea.

I had to include Baja sushi because I think the fusion of Asian techniques and Mexican ingredients is phenomenal! This recipe, which uses a spinach crêpe as a wrapper instead of nori (seaweed), comes from my friend Andres Brambila, who owns Negai, a wonderful sushi restaurant in Tijuana.

Crab cakes get a festive kick when coated in crunchy panko bread crumbs mixed with cilantro and then topped with a simple guacamole. This is the guacamole that was made on a regular basis at my house when I was growing up. I don’t like fussy guacamoles that mask the fresh flavor of a perfectly ripe avocado. This crab cake mixture is eggless and is baked rather than fried, yielding a lighter dish with more crab flavor.

Though you can just shove the crabs under the broiler in this recipe, this slightly more complicated procedure works best: Preheat a large roasting pan in the broiler for ten minutes or so. When you’re ready to cook, put the crabs in the pan, adjusting the broiler rack so that it’s two or three inches from the heat source or as close as you can get it (in my oven, this means propping the roasting pan on top of another pan). The crabs will be done in less than 5 minutes. Remember that some oven broilers work best if the door is ajar, which will keep the element from cycling off and make cooking time faster, not slower.

Crab has the best texture and among the best flavor of all of the crustaceans, and the best crab cakes are those that showcase the crab most fully. So getting the most out of crab cakes often means putting the least into them. When you start loading crab cakes up with white bread, corn, curry, and complicated sauces, you might be making them different, but you’re not making them better. I usually serve my crab cakes with nothing more than lemon wedges, but tartar sauce and aïoli (recipes for both are on page 306) are both excellent choices if you choose to make a condiment.

One of the most popular snacks sold at the famous open-air food bazaars of Singapore is a huge platter of fresh crabs stir-fried in a sweet, spicy sauce. You eat this crab dish, like many others, with your fingers; it’s worth the mess. (If that doesn’t appeal to you, try this dish with precooked crabmeat.) Remember, crabs must be alive and kicking (or cooked) when you buy them. Information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla) is on page 500.

This is one of those odd dishes that are easier to cook than to eat. Blue crabs take a lot of work; but they’re so delicious they’re worth the effort. If you live on the West Coast, you’ll probably use Dungeness crab, which will be easier.

Unless you live in Alaska or know a good fishmonger in the Pacific Northwest, it’s almost impossible to buy Dungeness crab that has not already been cooked. That’s not a problem; they can still be steamed, as they are here. This is a subtle preparation, but Dungeness is so wonderful that’s all it takes. (You can use lobster if you prefer.)

This soup has become popular in the kitchens of Chinese Americans in the past few decades. It’s best, of course, when you start by making creamed corn (see the second variation), but canned creamed corn—a concoction that Americans of various ethnicities and generations have long enjoyed (sometimes in secret)—allows you to make this tasty soup quickly at any time of year. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla).

This is just about the best crab soup I have ever tasted, and it’s also the easiest. (One of the messiest, too; you must eat the crab with your hands.) At its base is miso, combined with go chu jang, a red pepper paste mixed with beans, kind of a spicy version of hoisin sauce. If you live anywhere near a Korean market, you’ll find it; if not, use hoisin mixed with Tabasco. Buy the crabs live and have them cleaned and chopped up by the fishmonger. Or follow the directions for cleaning them in step 1.

Like Tempura (page 91), the Fritto Misto batter and technique can be used with almost any morsel of food. An old-fashioned Fritto Misto might have bits of veal or other meat, frog’s legs, cock’s combs, artichoke hearts, chanterelles or other mushrooms, zucchini or other vegetables, pieces of cheese, and, of course, fish. These days, it seems most people—including me—like a fish-based Fritto Misto, with perhaps a few pieces of vegetable thrown in. I have some suggestions here, but please use whatever you like. Because you’ll have to fry in batches, and because it’s good only when very hot, it’s best to serve Fritto Misto as an appetizer and usually only to those guests who are willing to stand around in the kitchen. I don’t think Fritto Misto needs more than fresh lemon as a “sauce,” but you can use aïoli or even a light tomato sauce if you like.

A street snack of Central America and the Caribbean, empanadas can really be filled with anything you have on hand. This recipe and its variations offer several of the traditional fillings. Masa harina can be found at most supermarkets and Latin grocery stores. It adds a nice crunch to the dough, but regular flour works well, too.

Piquillos have so much going for them. Not only is their color stunning, their skin thin, and their flavor a near-perfect blend of sweet and hot, but one couldn’t bioengineer a better shape for stuffing. To precook the fish, simply put it in salted water to cover, bring the water to a boil, and turn off the heat. By the time the water cools, the fish will be done.

I learned how to make “summer rolls” in a tiny village in the Mekong Delta. I was not only the only non-Vietnamese at the table; I was also the only male. My pathetic technique was laughable to my co-workers, but I quickly got the hang of it. So will you. Rice paper wrappers, sold in Asian markets, keep forever. Their flexibility is truly amazing, and the simple variation will give you an idea of the different directions in which you can go. This is just a basic outline; these rolls can be filled with infinite variations of vegetables, meat, and even fruit, so don’t worry if you don’t have one or two of the ingredients here. You can cover these with a moist towel or plastic wrap and keep them for about an hour, no longer, before serving.

These are the crab cakes from the Faidley Seafood counter in Baltimore, the best I have ever had. Under the crisp outer layer of the crab cakes, big chunks of succulent sweet crabmeat were barely held together by condiments and what I later found out were crisp crushed saltine crackers. I managed to work out this fairly close recipe, since Faidley’s would not part with the original one. Rémoulade is a condiment that kept resurfacing on my research trip all over America. It appeared in Baltimore with the crab cakes, in New Orleans with fried artichokes, as a topping for po’ boy sandwiches, and some rendition of it has even turned up as a topping for today’s Big Mac. The closest Italian traditional condiment to the rémoulade is the aglio e olio (aioli—the emulsified rendition of olive oil and garlic which is used on the Ligurian and French coast). The French-sounding name implies some French heritage, but, then, the French played a big role in the founding of America, in particular in the Louisiana Territory.

This dish is especially good when made with live blue-claw crabs, but sometimes they are difficult to find. The snow crab—or its more expensive cousin, the Alaskan king crab—will yield a most delicious sauce as well. In immigrant Italian American fishing communities, such as those in Delaware and Rhode Island, this dish was made by the fishermen’s wives from the unsellable catch.

When in season, soft-shell crabs are a big seller in all of our restaurants. People just love them. We make a light batter, fry them nice and crisp, and set them over a salad for our guests. During one of my trips to Baltimore, I wanted to go visit Crisfield Seafood in Silver Spring, Maryland, known for its soft-shell crab sandwich. The experience was good: the soft-shell crab, nice and crispy, was the best part; the sesame bun and the coleslaw were the usual suspects. In this recipe I’ve added my own twist to the bread and ingredients. Get a good semolina roll, and top the crabs with an arugula-and-egg salad, an Italian American solution. If you want to serve this as a salad, double the salad and dressing and omit the rolls. Serve crabs on top of the greens, with dressing dolloped on the side.

When I ate my way through Baltimore, crabs were to be had in many ways. It was spring, and soft-shells were on every menu, as were crab cakes, crab cocktails, and crab salads. Most of the dishes had some version of tartar sauce, ketchup cocktail sauce, or rémoulade served with them. I got a yearning for a crab salad Italian-style, so, without much ado, here is one that evokes a lobster salad they often make in Sardinia.