Food Profile: Crab Cakes

If there is one thing my family knows well, it’s crab. From as long as I can remember, and much before I was born, crab has been a staple of the families, weather that be at Thanksgiving dinner or a potluck, crab was on the menu. My father is a crabber and my mother a crab broker, or in other words, my father catches it and my mom sells it to restaurants and stores. There are pictures of me in diapers sitting on my father’s boat as he reels in crab pots, just as there are pictures of my dad in diapers witching his father. Crab is truly something that has been in the family for generations.

Now much like any crustacean, crab is something that can be prepared in many different ways. It can be eaten raw, boiled and eaten out of the shell, mixed with almost any salad or pasta, the list goes on and on. But none of those compare to the crab cake, and more specifically, my mother’s crab cake. Her recipe, like many great recipes, was once written down on a piece of scratch paper, and has been rewritten several times due to gobs of this and that. Through time the recipe has evolved, and although slightly different than the original, is twice as good. The ingredients are not measured with instruments as they are with taste, and so no two batches are exactly the same.

Originally, the crab cake was something that was invented by English settlers due to the economy. Crab was expensive (although not much has changed there) and people wanted a way to stretch the key ingredient. They mashed the meat and combine it with fillers to make little cakes that would go further than just eating the meat on its own. The meal was so popular though, that is stuck, and soon crab cakes grew from being a way to make the meat last, to using as much meat as possible in higher end restaurants.

The majority of people I have spoken to say they have tried crab cakes at one point or another. After surveying a few dozen people I realized something, crab cakes are something that are either served at a fish-n-chips sort of place, or they’re served along side a pricy salad at a fancy restaurant. As it turns out, crab cakes are a dish that adapt to their surroundings. Although quite different in taste, crab cakes can be consumed on almost any budget. This is primarily because crab has such a great variety. The crab that I have grown up eating is Dungeness, a local crab that is considered sweeter than other crabs. The Dungeness crab that my family has always caught and sold is wild, and delivered within hours of its catch. I’ve never eaten cab at home that wasn’t less then a few days out of water, and if you were to eat at any of the restaurants they sell to, neither have you. Because of the high quality of crab meat, and the freshness, and crab cake at a fancy place will run you about eighteen bucks. This is much different than the crab cakes at the fish-n-chips place, where a crab cake will run you five bucks. This crab is not fresh, in fact, it’s probably not even crab. Most likely it’s “krab”, which is a combination of Pollock (a bottom-feeder found most prominently in the Bering Sea) and other white fish. It’s essentially the same imitation crabmeat which most California rolls at a sushi place is. But, if it genuine crab which they are using, there’s a good chance it’s Snow crab from China, which again, has been frozen and shipped. What is really comes down to is the quality of product dictating the type of crab cake.

The first time I tried a crab cake, which was not my mother’s, was at a fish-n-chips place called the Shrimp Shack in Bellingham. The only real reason I even tried it was because it was made from crab that my mother had sold to them, (the same crab that she makes her crab cakes out of) and was being sold quite inexpensively. Needless to say, I thought they were OK, but couldn’t believe they were using such expensive crabmeat to make them. Ironically, they finally figured it out too, and no longer make their crab cakes out of fresh Dungeness crab, but frozen Snow crab, and as you can imagine, they aren’t nearly as good, but they turn a greater profit.


So as it turns out, from a very young age, I have been exposed to a gourmet meal, without ever realizing it. At first, when coming to that realization, I felt a bit snobbish, and naive even. But in reality, my family never had much money, and so we used what we had, which was crab. In fact, when I was really young, we didn’t have heating in our house, but we had gourmet crab cakes. What it comes down to is what we grow up with becomes so normal, that it’s hard for us to see otherwise. Just as a mechanics daughter never has to pay to get her car fixed, a crabbers daughter never had to pay for good crab cakes.


I believe food is made to be shared, and so, this recipe makes about 50 crab cakes. Also, you can image how important I feel the crab is to the recipe so please use fresh Dungeness. This recipe make crab cakes that are about 80% crab.
Mom’s Crab Cake Recipe

- 5 lbs Fresh Dungeness Crab – shucked
- 3 Whole Eggs
- 2 Cups Olive Oil
- 2 Red Bell Peppers
- 2 oz. Fresh Basil
- 1/4 C Parsley
- 1/4 C Green Onions
- 1/4 C Lemon Juice
- 1/8 C Vinegar (red or white)
- 1 Tablespoon Paprika
- 1 Teaspoon salt
- Pepper to taste
- Bread crumbs/panko

- In processor whip eggs for 2 minutes. Add oil in slow steady stream until thickened.

- Transfer into mixing bowl

- In processor, combine and mix peppers, basil, parsley, green onions, paprika, salt and pepper

- Add contents of processor to mixing bowl of eggs and oil and stir

- Stir in lemon juice and vinegar

- Add bread crumbs/panko and crab meat to desired consistency

- Cook on low heat (flipping) on the stove until browned on both sides

Behind the Scenes

A few days ago I went to bottle the beer which I had brewed at Gallagher's Brewing up in Edmonds. The brewing process, which takes a few hours, I had done a few weeks before as the beer takes a few weeks to ferment. As a devotee to fine beers, I was excited to see what goes into the brewing process. Little did I know it was so intensive. There are many steps which have to preformed just right in order to create a beer that is drinkable. It starts with the wheat, which has to be just the right amount added at just the right time, and following is the malt and hops, which also need to be just right. And then of course there's the yeast, which without there would be no beer. Every ingredient was necessary at every precise time to produce what you were shooting for, or in other words, there was no "winging it".

There was something to be said though, after it was all bottled and I was sipping on something I had created for going out on a limb and trying to create something which I had no prior knowledge of. The same I think goes for the pizza bake on Thursday. Although I had to leave early, and didn't actually get to try the pizza, seeing what goes into a wood fire oven was worth the work. It started with the fire, and really for as long as I was there, it ended with the fire. Getting that fire started turned out to be a bigger ordeal than I thought it would be. You have to start with the newspaper, and then kindling, slowly working up to bigger and bigger pieces of wood until the fire is hot enough to actually cook something. Then of course you have to make sure the fire doesn't collapse on itself, which turned out to be a bigger issue than anyone saw coming. All in all though I was happy to help and I now have a new found respect for wood fire bakers.

I believe everyone at one point should go see how its done. Weather that be a pizza bake or a brewery, there's a lot more that goes into crating the things that we love to consume than most people think, and there's a lot of respect to give to those who create them.

Home Dumpster Diving

A few days ago while raiding for my kitchen for something to eat, I stumbled upon some almost rotten bananas which I had forgotten about. My fist instinct, (which I'm not proud of ) was to toss them and forget I ever had them. Right as they were headed for dumpster doom however, I thought back to class, and the discussions we've been having about wasting food. Holding two mushy bananas in my hand I realized they could amount to much more than just garbage. Hunting through my cabinet I found enough ingredients to make banana bread. It was then I realized, in the two years I have lived in the same house, I'd thrown out countless bananas that have gone bad, and all the time had all the ingredients necessary for making banana bread. Slightly appalled at myself, I became more determined then ever to create a meal out of what I could find around my kitchen. A few hours later the house smelled like banana bread and I was quite proud of myself, I had made something out of nothing, food from the dumpster.

My banana bread creation got me thinking, how many times had a similar situation occurred and I had simply decided to go out to eat, or but something new. I started to realize that although I'm a student, and try to budget myself accordingly, I don't always eat like one. I constantly toss out old vegetables, which I feel are no longer fresh enough. It was then I decided, that I in order to actually make change, I was going to have to start living differently. I've rallied my roommates and we now make an effort to not only eat what is on its way out, but to share what we would normally let sit as leftovers in the fridge until moldy. We have started making meals with what we have, instead of buying new ingredients. I've found that by combining our odds and ends we not only do our part in not overly tossing, but it creates a family-like feel to our otherwise separated household. Cooking is an activity after all which brings people together.

Would you like some nutrition with your salt?

At some point, each one of us has turned around a bottle or can of diet coke and thought, "I wonder how something could have no calories, no fat, no carbohydrates, no sugar, and still taste good". I'm sure these thoughts resonated in our minds for a few moments before we shrugged, and tilted back the can to partake in the calorie free, sodium filled nectar.

The Experience of drinking diet coke is one which is very different from most refreshments. The funny thing is, not many of us stop to actually analyze what exactly it is that so addicting about the beverage. I personally indulge in a diet coke every now and then, and always find it quite pleasing. Yet, it wasn't until a few weeks ago in class that I really stopped to analyze, and answer the question; why are we addicted to diet coke?

As I sipped the the diet coke, I had mixed feelings, but only because we were just analyzing as a class just how bad diet coke really is for you. On any other day, I would have slipped on the blissful beverage with glee and not thought twice about it. But on this particular afternoon I began to analyze what exactly it was that made diet coke so delicious to me. I believe it begins with the carbonation, it fizzes on your tongue and down your throat with a chemical burn you just can't get from juice. This fizziness almost opens your taste-buds and sends a shock to its system, immediately wanting more. 

But then there's the debate on how to drink it. Personally, I like it out of the can with a straw, I think there's something about the aluminum which is so enticing. Others prefer lots of ice, which I feel waters it down and lessens the flavor. Either way, diet coke contains the sensory satisfaction which is  the combination of salty and sweet which covers your tongues every desire, and makes it so addicting. 

Independent Eating

Lets set a scene;

You're at a party with a buffet which looks amazing, meats, cheeses, fruits, and above all you're starving. You could dive on the table and swim in the food you're so excited, but there's one problem, no one else has touched it, or is even near it for that matter. You are torn between filling you belly and feeling awkward as the lone sole at the buffet. Finally, you find someone who is also hungary, eyeing the buffet in awe. You two decide to concur the buffet together, for together you are not alone, you have a partner, and half as many eyes watching you. Of course, once the food has been touched, others feel it is safe and slowly people mingle their way towards the food, to join you in your fully belly.

If this has never happened to you, and you're always the lone buffet approacher I applaud you. For most people, being the only one eating is awkward and embarrassing, and they would rather starve then eat by them selves. The same goes for ordering food, I have found myself to want to wait for the other person's food to arrive before digging in not just out of manners, but because I don't like to be the only one eating. So I pose the question then, why is it hard for people to eat alone?

When I stop and think about it, the only times I eat alone are when I am alone. If I'm hungary and want to go out to eat, I usually get it to go, rather than sit in the restaurant alone. Although I'm sure this reasoning varies from case to case, I realized I don't like eating alone in public because I feel as though others are watching me. This is not to say people aren't watching me when I'm with someone else, but again, you're sharing the amount of eyes that could be watching.

Then of course there's the dilemma of being with someone, but being the only one eating. This bothers me even more because I'm sure they're watching me, they're sitting right across from me. Suddenly I find myself wondering, do I have food on my face? Am I eating really loud? Am I not talking enough because I'm busy chewing? And suddenly I feel a sense of urgency and want to finish my meal so I might engage in the conversation better.

Again, these are only my experiences and I'm sure plenty of people are perfectly content with eating alone, but I must finally point out then when someone comes into the restaurant which I work at alone, they eat faster than anyone else there and I frequently see them looking around... so who's to say.

*What's in a name?

When the quarter first started I was looking over the syllabus, getting a feel for the class when I cam upon week 6, collard greens week. I honestly have no idea what collard greens are, but immediately I didn't like the sound of them. There was something about the name that didn’t settle with me right. I tried to place weather I had eaten the dish before and just didn't remember, maybe I had hated it as a child and the memories were coming back. Maybe I had eaten it and simply didn't know what it was at the time. As much as I racked my brain however, I couldn't come up with a reason, it simply just didn't sound good.

Weeks later, Ann brought up the food in class, and we began discussing its origins. Collard greens had been a food of slaves, and therefore, a food that was looked down upon during the time of slavery. Now I will stop here to say that I am not a bit racist and immediately felt guilty for my sour feelings toward collard greens. I couldn't believe I had had the initial unpleasant reaction, without knowing a thing about the food, and yet hadn't stopped to further examine why past my own lack of experience with the food. Appalled by my reaction, I slipped into an uncomfortable state, feeling shame for my guttural feeling but also curious. Why had I felt this reaction? Why when presented with a food that I thought I had no connection with or knowledge of had I reacted to negatively? It was then that the class discussion turned to "food taboos", and I soon realized my gut reaction was one which had been unconsciously engraved it me, probably from a young age.

This "slave food" came about because slaves weren't given a large variety of food in which to choose from. Due to these circumstances, collard greens became a staple. The poor collard green, (which really was innocent if you think about it) became labeled as unworthy, a food of a lower class, dirty even. Funny to think that if collared greens had been popular amongst slave owners, the taboo would have never come about. Imagine if mashed potatoes had been slave food, then how would we react to it?

I suspect I'm not the only one who had this reaction, but it was so unconscious I couldn't find it's origins so save my life. It makes me wonder what other food taboos I have lurking, waiting to spring out and make me feel guilty again. As much as I dread that happening though, I also look forward to it, because I believe you learn something about yourself. I learned that my pre-conceived notion was not made up and actually held a deep cultural meaning, which I was completely unaware of.

*An Identification with a Love of Food

When I first read the prompt to write about a food I "identify with", I was a bit puzzled. I began thinking about the possible connections I could draw upon between culture, race, family etc, and the food that I consume. I began with race. As someone of mixed backgrounds, I have never fully identified with one food group. I cold have an English breakfast, Irish lunch, Native American snack, Mexican dinner and French dessert and still not have eaten from every background.

I suppose though, having an aunt who makes the best Menudo you will ever have, makes it easy for me to identify with Mexican cuisine, specifically my aunts Menudo. In fact, the Menudo recipe is one that I have wanted to get for her from sometime. Just writing about it makes me crave it. It is by any definition, the ultimate Mexican hang-over-cure soup. Being a festive bunch that my family is, the soup is typically prepared for the next morning, and there isn't a single person who passes it up. Menudo not only acts as a cultural identity, but as a family one as well.

But then, there's the Caesar salad my mom makes. That’s a whole other story. The Caesar dressing my mom makes has so much garlic in it you're mouth will burn. But that won't stop you, because it is so good it’s worth the burn, and the smell. The recipe, which I believe originated from a cook she once knew in San Francisco, has taken on my mother's love of antioxidants and hence the large amount of garlic. Like any good mom, she used to be concerned with me going out to parties in high school, and would make Caesar salad before I left, which of course I couldn't resists, and so of course I would reek of garlic all night. Nonetheless, the Caesar salad is a necessity whenever I come home. So it would be easy to say then I suppose, that I identify myself with Caesar salad, but not just any, I identify myself with the tongue-burning, reeking of garlic Caesar salad which my mom makes.

So it would seem that although my food identifications can be traced to linage, they are primarily an identification with the love the food is associated with. In a city where food from around the world is available at your finger tips, you would think something as simple as Caesar salad would be any easy craving to meet, but let me tell you, finding something as good as mom's is impossible. And although I know most Mexican places serve Menudo on Saturday mornings, its resemblance to my Aunts would be all but disappointing. It is this love of food, and love of sharing food with loved ones, which I identify with.