If I told you that I could pinch the unholy crap out of you with my toes, would you believe me? I guess you would. If you didn’t, well, all I’d need is enough proximity to convince you otherwise. The bottom line is, don’t gainsay me on this one unless you’re a masochist.
My mother once let drop that must have been because she had this mad craving for crabs when she was carrying me. That line I would not even try to sell you, although you’d be surprised at the number of people who think that unscientific explanation enlightening. “Ah, it’s a lihi,” they’d say, kindly overlooking the fact that my toes are also gnarled and knobby, like ginger root, although I don’t recall Ma mentioning a craving for that. Still, I’m grateful that I’m limited to such freakiness. Can you imagine if, instead, I did not so much walk as sidle? Now that would have been outright tragic…
But why am I even telling you this? I have no idea; we had crab cakes for dinner and that personal trivia just popped into my head. What I do know is that our family loves crabs. We hoard them, for crying out loud. Our suki crab catchers deliver their entire haul straight to the house. It’s a pretty convenient arrangement: In exchange for saving them time and effort (not to mention the fees at the public market), we get a nice discount, and the catchers’ wives, who do the actual delivery, help cook (basically, steam) the critters.
Anyway, that’s a lot of crabs. Even if we managed to plow through a few kilos of those during a single meal, that still leaves a few more to store in the freezer. We often run out of space because invariably there would be holdovers from the previous delivery. Those, we pick apart for the meat.
Picking crabmeat is not an activity I would recommend. It’s mind-numbing work, but you can not afford to be careless, or else those nasty bits of carapace will cut you, or, worse, end up in your food. The devil truly is in the details, so God help you, because I am about to let you in on the recipe for the best crab cakes you’ll ever taste in your life.
Actually, I exaggerate — but not about the crab cakes being the best. The recipe is from Lori Longbotham’s Lemon Zest
While the crabmeat drains, take five tablespoons of mayonnaise, one of Dijon mustard, the juice and grated zest of a lemon, some parsley and chives (chopped), and a pinch of salt and ground black pepper. Mix well and add more salt as needed. If some of the ingredients are not available where you live, substitute two kalamansi for the lemon and two cloves of garlic for the chives. The mustard is optional, by the way.
Put crabmeat in a separate bowl and slowly add the mayo mix. Don’t just dump it in — you get crab spread that way. Add two tablespoons at first, mix gently, then keep adding a tablespoon at a time until mixture is creamy but still on the dry side. Store remaining mayo mix in the refrigerator and the crab mix in the freezer, covered.
You have 30 minutes to kill at this point. I suggest that you spend it productively, like cuddling your loved ones — life’s too short to be wasted watching those inane game shows on local TV (with apologies to friends who work there). Remove the crab mix from the freezer and scoop out a heaping tablespoonful. Using your bare hands, mold mixture into a ball, then press on it gently to form a thick disk. If you want it smaller or bigger, go right ahead. Place the patties on a plate or pan lined with baking paper and freeze for another 30 minutes to firm them up.
What — you’re back to cuddling? There’s no time for that; haul your lazy ass back to the kitchen. Grab a skillet, heat it up, and pour in two cups of oil. Get three shallow plates, one each for flour, egg white (slightly beaten), and Japanese breadcrumbs. Grab a patty, carefully dredge it in flour, shake off the excess powder, coat with the egg, then finish off with a good roll in the breadcrumbs.
Did you say “messy”? My toes are itching, I swear to God. Of course it’s messy! Too late. Start frying those patties. Brown on one side, then the other. It shouldn’t take more than two minutes each way. Let rest on a plate lined with paper towels to remove the excess grease. Serve with the dip — you know, the one in the fridge? Duh.
Ah, but I’m so testy. Forgive me, reader. There’s a party up the block and the racket is driving me mad. I swear they’ve played the “Macarena” four times already. Less than two weeks to go until the new year and I’m in retro-disco hell. I trust — no, I know I have your sympathy.
Anyway, enjoy your crab cakes. They truly are superb.
Oh, and one more thing: Never, ever, use imitation crab sticks to make this recipe. If you do and your crab cakes taste like pulp, don’t go pointing an accusing finger in this direction. I will pinch you silly. Consider that a warning.
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