For a week Eva had been hankering for crab, and for a week we could not find any. I tried to tell myself it was probably all for the best, the pain from gout not being nearly as exquisite as the taste of my all-time favorite seafood. But then we just had to try again yesterday, and there they were, those dreamt-of/dreaded decapods, calling out my name. I snapped up two kilos.
Even as everyone agreed that the chili crab à la Val Warner was great, we still couldn’t finish all of it. Normally I prefer to cook leftover crab in tunô (coconut cream) with squash, chayote, and assorted greens, but being alone in the house, I opted for a one-dish meal.
You should have seen Palang. She gave me her best beggar’s look as I took out eggs, Mandarin chorizo, and canned ham — three of her favorite food. I would say “treats” if she hasn’t taken to swiping them from the counter the moment I look away. “Get your paws off the table, you sneak,” I said, trying to avoid her eyes, but of course I couldn’t, and I stared too long, so I ended up giving her the chorizo ends. My dogs have me figured out.
When ordering crab fried rice at a restaurant, I always ask if they use real or imitation crab. It’s only fair to, because kanikama contains no crab meat and doesn’t even remotely taste like the real thing. Last time I did, it was at Spice Fusion in SM Cebu. The server replied that they used real crab — too eagerly, I thought, and indeed, when the dish arrived, it had both. Imitation crab is easy to spot: it looks too colorful and uniform. It begs to be noticed, but with none of my dogs’ charm.
Real crab is messy. It makes you work for your meal. That aside, the fried rice was the easiest I ever made. I started by sautéing sliced spring onion bulb/stalk (the white/pale green part) and minced garlic in peanut oil. Next, diced ham and sliced chorizo. Then I poured in some (not all, there was too much) of the chili crab sauce before adding rice and about two teaspoons of powdered turmeric. There was no need for salt and/or pepper; the crab sauce was seasoned enough. Lastly, I added the crab meat, scrambled eggs (precooked), a squeeze of kalamansi, and chopped green onion. Garnished with basil, the dish was worthy of a restaurant offering. I could have given Spice Fusion a run for its money, crab fried rice-wise. Theirs just looks more colorful, but then I don’t stock up on imitation crab sticks (or plan to).
As for my gout, I’m already having intimations. Somehow it helps to take my mind off the tingling in my lower back that I’m also itching all over — not allergy (if only), but a sign that my blood sugar level is way up. Ah, how we suffer for our art! It’s that, or I’m simply self-destructive.
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