Crusteaceon & Punishment

Though I am not of the Catholic persuasion, I believe it is duely confession time. As you may have read I do not require a linen napkin-lapped silverware'd atmosphere to enjoy and discuss my gustory delights, however my love of food goes beyond the occaissional paper towel prerequisite, greasy meal and extends to a dimension of vulgarity seen rarely outside the realms of rapacious wildlife denizens of the Serengetti. Forgive me reader for I come from peassant stock; generations of ill-fed serfs have led this food writer to a life of hidden impropriety in a candy coated shell of well-bred. To their credit, the wolves who raised me were very polite.

My confession was prompted by my epicurial encounter yesterday. We went to the Dancing Crab, just North of the American University Metro stop for their All You Can Eat Crab Feast (Tuesday -Thursday, 6-10pm). When we sat in the half-full inside portion of the restaurant we were enthused by all the plates of steaming crabs ushered past us. Nearly 15 minutes later when the server finally arrived I had to convince my guest to stay instead of storming out over being ignored during a slow time for the dining room. Although she aquieced and remained, she was no longer in the mood for the Herculean challenge of defining "all you can eat" as I had proposed. While she logically ordered the single plate (pashaw) of king crab legs, I requested the Feast.

At first, five decent sized Maryland Blues were brought out swathed in old bay and spices, steamed to a perfect red on a tray obvioulsy lifted from the Howard University Hospital cafeteria. As was the pail to dispose of my crab waste. I positively adore being elbow deep in shellfish, every ounce of those gorgeuosly seasoned former ocean dwellers tender and full of the flavor that most west coast crabs lack. I cherish the brown paper table "linens" and the 16 year-old kid who continued to bring me tray after luxorious tray of succulent sidewalkers until after 2 1/2 hours and 21 crabs later I waved my white flag, secure in the notion that the Chesepeake Bay could hemmorage no more that day.

The friendly staff at the Dancing Crab actually took pity on my guest, who was finished her meal in 30 minutes, and offered her drinks on the house while they parlayed for her phone number. They were kind, helpful, and ultimately and supplied me with the information that:

1. a combination of small & mediums are used for the "All You Can Eat Feast" ($34.95)
2. on that particular evening they only had mediums in stock
3. the average all-you-can-eater polishs off 9 crabs
4. one dozen medium crabs runs $46.95
5. they hoped I would not return for quite some time, but hoped I enjoyed my visit

Classic Maryland Blues are ambrosia with elbow grease. They are not easy to eat, and they require you to work for your meal with true dedication, and the asssitance of a least a paring knife and a small mallet. In my experience the only cuisine that necessitiates more grunt work coupled with finesse on the user-end is a full artichoke in polite company. In the end my experience at the Dancing Crab was fantastic. The crabs were perfect and really, that's all I cared about.