How Do We Know We Are Loved?

Sometimes it's not easy and life goes by so fast we forget to remark on just how remarkable it is to be loved and have people who love you.
It's not the presents under the tree. It's not flashy diamond rings. For me, it's not memories of great events.
It's the little every day reminders and the unexpected.
James comes to rescue me when the car battery dies even though I could call triple AAA. It's raining and he drives me to the store, not because I need him to . . . just so I don't have to.
It's a little box that came right at dinnertime. This time from my brother (and his family).
I've been a California girl for many many years now. But I was born on the other coast, not far from the Chesapeake Bay. I grew up eating and loving steamed crabs. My family might eat a few -- my brother would never touch them -- but I love them. I miss summer on the East coast and settling down to hot spicy steamed blue crabs.
And then this box.
Packed in tidy styrofoam in a well traveled cardboard shell were a dozen out of season (and probably insanely expensive and hard to find) steamed blue crabs.
The taste of my childhood for Christmas.
My siblings and I stopped exchanging gifts years ago in favor of the next generation. I wasn't expecting anything and my brother does't expect anything in return.
But there it was, a just because box.
I heated them in the oven.
Were they as good as the fresh in season crabs I remember from years ago? No. They were better.
They tasted like family and home and love.
They tasted like Christmas.

The Year Without A Crab, Almost

"Just in. We have fresh crab from Washington."
The in-store announcement rang out like music to my crab deprived ears.
Every year James and I anxiously await the opening of Dungeness crab season, November 15th in our part of California. Crab for thanksgiving has become our own beloved family tradition.
But nature intervened.
On November 5th the Department of Fish and Wildlife shut down the California Crab season indefinitely when a potentially fatal neurotoxin was discovered in the Dungeness. For fisheries to reopen the crabs have to show safe levels of domoic acid for two straight weeks. No California crab for thanksgiving.
We looked North, hoping.
Oregon and Washington also announced they were delaying the start of their seasons. The algae bloom that causes the toxin, brought on by unusually warm waters, is affecting fisheries up and down the West coast.
Just two days ago there was a ray of hope. Though the coasts are still closed to commercial crabbing, Dungeness from the area around Gray's Harbor, Washington where the Quinault Indian Nation maintains a large crabbing operation, have consistently tested safe and the tribe opened their season (a decision reached in conjunction with Washington State) just in time for thanksgiving crab, in limited supplies (and at a premium price).
We had already resigned ourselves to a crabless thanksgiving but when I saw these beautiful beasts nestled in the ice I had to take a couple home. A pre-thanksgiving treat.
The tradition lives on.

April Comes Too Soon

"The season is almost over," said the man behind the fish counter as I stared wistfully at the ice covered display of delicious dungeness crabs. Minutes later they were in my cart heading home to roast (marinated in olive oil, fennel seeds, thyme, lemon zest, chili flakes, rosemary and garlic) for a last minute late season crab feast.

Hotel Crab Picnic

Crab season goes on. James and I traveled down the coast and turned inland through the beautiful Anderson Valley, home to scattered wineries and Lemon's Market a small grocery store with plenty of meats, fresh caught fish (sometimes from the owner's fishing trips) and -- during the season -- cases overflowing with local cooked crab.

We drove by and saw the "Fresh Crab" sign, spun the car around and loaded up on meaty, delicious crab, cocktail sauce and fresh bread.

Back at the friendly Boonville Hotel we laid our dinner out on an old copy of the Pt Reyes Light and picnicked hotel style.

Marshall Store

BBQ'd oysters are a specialty of West Marin I am told, and the legend of their creation is doubtlessly told and debated heartily along the shores of Tomales Bay.

For me the only debate is where to go to eat them.

I love the oysters at Tony's Seafood, a paper plate shack along the bay. Tony's sauce is sweet and, as James says, "ketchupy." The Marshall Store (a no-frills eatery along the same stretch of road) variation is more like a warm cocktail sauce spicy with peppers, Tapatio hot sauce, and a hint of horseradish and doused with melted butter and oyster liquor. The oysters come off the grill extra tender after essentially poaching in their own liquid. The garlic bread is just right for dunking in the flavorful juices.

Oysters may be the star here in Marshall but during the winter months you don't want to miss the dungeness crab, fresh from local waters. As good as the crab available in fish markets can be, fresh from the water dungeness crab is something altogether different, something etherial, something not to be missed.

Swing by The Marshall Store sometime between November and maybe as late as April if the weather stays cool. They'll be happy to see you.

West Coast Crab Season

It's sacrilege. I was raised nearby the famous crab-filled waterways of the Chesapeake Bay -- in Maryland, by Marylanders. I have been eating delicious steamed blue crabs all my life. And yet, I have come to love the West coast dungeness crab . . . the winter crab.

Though you can buy dungeness year round, in the cold water months they are at their sweetest and meatiest and most irresistible. When I spied these beauties in the case at the fish counter I knew what James would have for dinner.

Although it' s not for the dainty or faint of heart, it's an up to the elbows kind of dinner, I have been using the same method for Roasted Dungeness Crab since I first saw Chef Reed Hearon's (of San Francisco's Rose Pistola) recipe in Saveur Magazine. For two crabs the simple marinade mixes toasted and crushed fennel seeds (2 tsp), parsley (1 bunch), 2 cloves garlic, fresh thyme leaves (2 tsp), crushed red pepper (1 TB), S&P, and 1/3 cup olive oil (I generally use closer to a half cup) in the food processor and the mixture is poured over cleaned crabs and left to marinate in the fridge for 2 hours (I have often left it longer). Chef Hearon leaves his cleaned crabs whole -- I generally break ours into quarters. You can use cleaned and cracked crabs from the store but I like the rich taste of the crab fat so I generally don't clean ours too thoroughly. The crabs in their sauce are roasted at 400º for 10 - 15 minutes (just until hot through). Serve with warm bread and or roasted potatoes to sop up the delicious sauce . . . and plenty of paper towels.

Mid-Winter Crab Fest

Merry Christmas To Me!

Today I came home from the first morning screening of Avatar -- but that's a whole other subject -- and found a white box with a bright red "perishable" sticker waiting for me.

Yes it's out of season, yes it's a crazy extravagance, yes it's everything you want a holiday dinner to be . . . that box could only mean one thing -- steamed crabs shipped from my family in Baltimore.

Although my brother -- misguided though he is, refuses to affirm his Maryland birth by cracking into a pile of hardshells he doesn't think twice about rallying the girls (Mikayla, Jordy, Jess (Eric too I assume), and Lex) to ship a box of crustaceans across the country. Something he knows I love and miss. The family braved the inner harbor to gather them up so that James (and I) could share them a few time zones away.

What did James have for dinner? A down home Maryland style crab feast with newspaper on the tables, hot steamed crabs and home made French fries -- courtesy of my shipping family. Delicious Hon!