Ok, so not the whole creek, just a few inhabitants. Yesterday, time and tide and weather were against us, so we had lunch on the boat then went crabbing. Armed with chicken legs, nets and buckets we trolled the creek around where our boat lies.Mind you, the creek is leaving some nasty water scunge marks on Prickly Pears hull. I can't get it all off with modern technology. It makes the boat look ugly - and she doesn't need the help.
So, we managed to catch 4 of these sharp-clawed crabs. Not an easy feat. They are fast and we are, well slow. Good thing it was mating season, we actually through the maters back.
Back to the dock we go and 3 of us commit to eating the beasts. Ian, Reagan and I. Mel doesn't like to even touch the creek water, much less ingest something making a living off it...And probably rightly so.
At home, after a half hour of steaming and lots of Old Bay, the crabs are done. At this point my stomach isn't sure this was a good plan. Heck, I pee regularly into this creek. Who knows what green lawn run off is doing to these crabs in here? Maybe they even glow at night?
Well, i can't stop Ian. He insists. Mel looks ready to hurl -or Catch a Cab- as I start to break the sucker apart (I got armed with info from the internet on how-to). As soon as I am shoveling bits of meat to Ian, he grabs another and imitates me perfectly, removing the crabs apron then the shell. I was impressed.
Anyhow, they taste like tastless white fish. Add some butter and some more old bay and you get a distinctive flavor, though I am pretty sure Reagan's sweaty soccer socks with some butter and Old Bay would be similar fare. Ian loved them. He made us go through all 4 crabs and worked on getting meat for me as I tried to get it all for him. Ian is all about eating crabs, funny little boy.
Comments