Crabby Crabby

I had the opportunity to spend a few days with my family in Maryland last week. They weren’t crabby, and neither was I (I don’t think) but we DID get to spend some time with a half dozen recently deceased Maryland crabs, who I’m pretty sure would have been crabby had they still been alive. Muahahahaha. This post is photographic evidence of man’s dominance over the food chain. Sorry veg-heads… I am a true carnivore. I like meat, and fish, and the creepy crawlies of the sea known to the general public as crab.

I am in no way a crab expert. As a matter of fact, most of my crab experience is in the “cake” or “lump meat” form – and with the exception of a few touristy times in San Francisco eating a (already cut apart) crab at Fisherman’s Wharf, I had never come close to taking apart a crab until my parents moved to Maryland. If you read my old blog you may remember this post, where I mentioned getting stabbed by a crab and the bleeding and cry-fest that followed. This year, I was determined to get this crab thing down and show those Marylanders who’s boss. After a quick how-to-crack-a-crab-open recap by our sever, here is what happened.

We start with a bucket full of crabs, dumped on your table, staring at you slightly eerily like this little guy.

Intimidated at first, I am still determined to get the best of this crab and fill my belly in the process.

Aaaand… success!

Anyone have any awesome crab (or other attack-as-you-eat food) stories?

And sorry for the blurriness of the pics. I decided to still keep them big, for dramatic flair.