Seafood was a mystery growing up. I was raised on a grain farm and we were very much a red meat and potatoes kind of family at mealtime. Hearty fare was the order of the day. We generally only had fish in the dead of winter when my Dad would go ice fishing. I often went with him when I was younger, waiting patiently on the ice for a Jack or a Pickerel to come and try to steal my bait off the hook.
I don’t recall the first time I had crab but I know I was an adult (my best guess is at Joey’s Seafood while dating the man who is now my husband). What I do know for certain is that, even though it is messy to crack open and dig out the sweet meat in the shell, there is nothing like it. Drench it in butter and drizzle some lemon over top and it is absolutely divine. Who knew that such an unattractive creature could give such a gift? If I could have the meal of my dreams, I’d have snow crab along with scallops, stuffed potato, corn and snap peas. Perhaps a chocolate mousse for dessert and a bottle of Barolo to sip afterward while chit chatting about the day’s events. Add a little French music to play in the background and I suddenly feel like this would be like living in the lap of luxury. I guess that is the secret of really good food: it transports you to another place even when you’re at home.