You know that the grocery store fish counter’s “fresh” sign refers to its being freshly thawed out after its subzero flight from Thailand, right? Seafood @ West Main owner Chris Arseneault hates that, preferring to offer real fresh fish from ’round these parts, including the Gulf crab that’s cooked, picked and shipped up in a chilly truck, never frozen, and on your table the same week that it was creeping around in the ocean. Trust me, you can taste the difference; I couldn’t help but devour it despite my supposed shellfish allergy (whereupon I found out that I’m allergic only to canned and processed crabmeat, no lie).
Here’s what was going on with crabs in 1747, according to Lady Hannah Glasse’s The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy: “To Dress a Crab, having taken out the Meat, and cleaned it from the Skin, put it into a Stew-pan, with half a Pint of White Wine, a little Nutmeg, Pepper, and Salt over a slow Fire; throw in a few Crumbs of Bread, beat up one Yolk of an Egg with one Spoonful of Vinegar, throw it in, and shake the Sauce-pan round a Minute, then serve it up on a Plate.”
Seafood @ West Main’s Maryland-style Lump Crabcakes
1 lb. jumbo lump or lump crabmeat
1/2 Tbs. Dijon mustard
1 Tbs. mayo
1 Tbs. chopped parsley
1/8 tsp. bay seasoning
1 tsp. hot sauce (Tabasco or Texas Pete)
1 egg
1/2 freshly squeezed lemon
1 Tbs. diced red onion
1/2 cup panko (Japanese style bread crumbs)
1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
Combine with all your heart all the ingredients, except the crabmeat, in a mixing bowl. Finally, add the crabmeat, mix together by hand, fold and shape into four-six crabcakes.
To cook in a pan: Add enough cooking oil (canola or vegetable, NOT olive oil) to generously coat the bottom of a pan, heat at medium high. Carefully place the cakes in the oil and cook four-five minutes per side.
To cook in an oven: Preheat oven to 400° and bake on lined or non-stick pan for five-seven minutes, then turn to broil for another three-four minutes until golden brown.
The crab in these crabcakes at Seafood @ West Main come straight from the ocean to you in a chilly— not freezing—truck.
