Displaying items by tag: Dungeness Crab

By Dan Clarke

Crab season has finally opened. Ordinarily, fresh Dungeness crab becomes available around the first of December.

Editor’s Note: Much of the editorial you see at Taste Publications will be new copy that is exclusive to us. However, we sometimes bring you information produced by other entities—especially when it seems as valid and timely as this article.

TASTE News Service, January 15, 2019 – Guests can indulge in the freshest seasonal fare this January and February at the historic Little River Inn on the Mendocino Coast of Northern California.

 To celebrate Dungeness crab season we’ve obtained one of Chef Marc Dym’s favorite dishes you can try at home.

By Dan Clarke

Cracked crab is one of nature’s sweetest bounties. Oh sure, there are crab salads, crab cakes, deviled crab and even crab soufflés, but for me there’s nothing like the simplicity of cracked Dungeness crab, a loaf of sourdough bread and a bottle of beer or a glass of wine.

Cracked Dungeness crab at Alioto'sBy Marcia Gagliardi

Let’s take a look at some dishes that come from San Francisco, mythical items that almost every visitor has on their checklist. (To be clear, while items like the focaccia at Liguria Bakery and the egg custard tarts from Golden Gate Bakery are superlative and local favorites, those dishes’ origins are not in San Francisco.) And don’t forget: if you want to try an It’s-It, you just need to visit a corner store and nab one on the fly. The question is: vanilla or mint chip?

Dungeness Crab

When local Dungeness crab comes into season (usually around Thanksgiving), you’ll want to hightail it to places like Swan Oyster Depot, Scoma’s, Sam’s Grill and Alioto’s for fresh, local crab. Throughout the rest of the year, it will come in from Oregon, Washington and beyond . . . still delicious, just not local. Pro tip: while you’re at Swan, be sure to get a pint of Anchor Steam fresh from the tap, another S.F. original!

by Dan Clarke

Cracked crab is one of nature's sweetest bounties. Oh sure, there are crab salads, crab cakes, deviled crab and even crab souffles, but for me there's nothing like the simplicity of cracked Dungeness crab, a loaf of sourdough bread and a bottle of beer or glass of wine.

Dungeness crab at Fisherman's WharfI've always thought of it as a particularly San Francisco treat and it has been commercially harvested in the area since 1848. The Dungeness crab (Cancer Magister) lives in colder waters off the Pacific Coast of North America—and nowhere else in the world. While it's found as far south as the Santa Barbara area of California, commercial crabbing really begins around San Francisco with the greater harvest being found farther northward, extending all the way to Alaska's Aleutian Islands.

In California the season begins in earnest just after Thanksgiving and fresh crab has always been a wintertime treat in my family. Because surprisingly few restaurants offer fresh crab in season, I've generally enjoyed mine at home.

Fresh may be a relative term as regards crab. For my taste, a frozen crab is enough different as not to be worth the effort. It promises a whole lot more than it delivers. However, while I'm happy to take home a cooked fresh crab from the market, I realize maximum flavor is obtained when buying the crab live. It's more difficult to find live crab (Asian markets are a good bet) and often it is more expensive. Further, you have to deal with dispatching the creature—boiling him alive, in fact. For the squeamish this could take the edge off the meal.

Dungeness crabs range from about 1½ pounds to slightly over three pounds, with about 20 to 25 percent of that weight edible crab meat. Heavier, denser crabs usually yield a little better meat-to-shell ratio. A large crab will usually feed two persons.

While supermarkets will often have good quality crab at attractive prices (especially early in the season), finding a specialty market where you can talk with your fish seller is a good idea. Cleaning and cracking your crab isn't all that difficult, but it is a little messy. Ask the fishmonger to show you how he does it. If it's your first time, it's well worth any extra charge for this service.

Fresh cracked crab may be a sublime experience, but in an elbows-on-the-table sort of way. Delicious, yes. Elegant, no. Wear a bib or washable clothes. Primary eating implements are your fingers and maybe a narrow fork or pick to get at tender morsels stuck inside shell pieces (I've found a claw from one of the smaller legs works well for this task).

You can use cocktail sauce, but why mask the crab's delightful—and subtle—flavor? Bowls of mayonnaise and drawn butter and some lemon juice are sufficient embellishment. Have a large loaf of sourdough French bread at the table. Slice it if you must, but breaking off pieces by hand seems more appropriate.

Now in the matter of beverages:Beer works fine. If you want to stick with a San Francisco theme, have Anchor Steam—a tradition as rich as any in a city rife with them. Otherwise, look for something light, lagerish.

I've always been a little schizophrenic when it comes to selecting wine to accompany crab in these circumstances. On the one hand, the sweetness of the crab suggests a Riesling. On the other, the crab's richness might be better complemented by a Chardonnay. Why not open a bottle of each?

This is not a meal to experience on a timetable. Share it around a relaxed table with one or more good friends. They'll know that their host is warm, witty. And they'll not mention that you have gotten a piece of crab in your hair or have butter dripping down your chin.