Crab cakes. They don’t exactly scream Christmas to me, but I suppose if you are feeding the Grinch, or if the hustle and bustle of the season has you feeling crabby, they might be a good choice. Once Ben issued the Crab Cake Proclamation, there was no turning back. It sounded like an easy enough meal, but we faced (or created) so many obstacles that it is a miracle they were not only edible, but delicious! (I’m the first to admit the term “miracle” is bandied about here a bit too casually. The other day, when Ben wanted me to sanction the drinking of a Mountain Dew, he called it the “Christmas Miracle,” but, I digress.)
Barrier #1: Phil and Ben accompanied me to Wegmans. Obviously, we didn’t get fresh crab meat (have you met us?), but when we saw that canned lump crab meat cost about twice as much as the cans next to them labeled simply “crab meat,” Phil googled it right then and there, in the canned seafood aisle, to see if we could go with the most affordable option. What a surprise. We got the cheap stuff. When drained, it looked a bit like wet insulation, but looks aren’t everything, so we trudged on.
Barrier #2: Phil has an irrational grudge against Old Bay seasoning. I have no idea what traumatic incident caused it, but I’ve known all our married lives that this blend was, literally, off the table. Enter…
Barrier #3: At a food co-op in Bloomington, Indiana, I bought something called Southern Seafood Seasoning 35 years ago, when we were newlyweds. The jar I pulled out of the spice drawer this week is the original jar and contents. I recognized the jar and labeling from that era. As you can imagine, Phil eschews recommendations to discard spices within months of purchase, believing there are darker forces at work, perhaps a spice cartel with Magellan-era roots, interested only in selling us more spices. So, even though it is Old Bay adjacent, he is unable to discard it on principle. I tasted the seasoning in question, and deemed it not bad, so we proceeded. You knew we would.
Barrier #4: Pandora’s spice drawer. We picked up Mary’s tip to store spices upright in a drawer and to label the tops. The system works fine when spices come in jars and one maintains order, but our upper spice drawer is the wild west. Once I opened it up and started hunting for the seasoning that is older than many of my students’ parents, I couldn’t shut it again, which led to a spicy family exchange.
Against all odds, the crab cakes were delicious! The meal was easily the best of our week, which brings me to my final point…shepherd’s pie.
At some point in the last year, Phil made a vast quantity of shepherd’s pie and froze half of it. The only thing more notable than its volume was the overpowering amount of rosemary it contained. I vaguely remembered that there was something objectionable about it, but it wasn’t until we had the leftovers this week that it all came rushing back to me. Somehow the rosemary had used its time in the freezer to marshal its resources and come back stronger than ever. Rosemary’s Baby. Phil declared, “I’m off rosemary for good.” It nearly put me off food. Ben was at play practice and escaped the horror.
How to explain our week’s triumphs and train wrecks? ’Tis the seasoning, I guess.
Your posts are a treat to read. Come visit over the holidays I’m home after 2 weeks in the hospital. All is going well.
We will come visit! Glad you are back. I know you’ve had a rocky road lately. I think of you every day as I’m leaving for work. I try to mutter under my breath quietly about, you know, working, as I stumble down my steps always carrying way too much. I know your bedroom window is close to where I am muttering, so I try to keep a lid on it, but I also know you are a terrible sleeper like me, so I am likely not waking you up, just coloring your morning with my expressive language!