www.roanoke.com

Wild thing... I think I love you

Well, it is the Monday after a holiday weekend, so being crabby is understandable. But I'm not talking about a bad mood, I'm talking about a state of mind -- a blue crab state of mind.

This Fourth of July found us in Kill Devil Hills, N.C., where my father-in-law, Bill, goes crabbing on the sound behind his house. On Friday night, we were treated to a big pile of fresh, steamed blue crabs with a heavy coating of Old Bay seasoning. Add a cold beer to the mix and it is sheer heaven. Even my 4-year-old nephew was cracking claws and grinning.

We love blue crabs so much that we decided to stop at a seafood shop on our way out of town to see if they had any in the case. We struck gold ... or bright orange, I guess ... when we found eight left in the case. I bought them all and we had another crabfest at home last night to usher out one of summer's most festive weekends.

I'm pretty particular about how I pick blue crabs. I learned how to do it as a child when my Aunt Suzanne was living in Annapolis, Maryland. Later, on vacations to Chincoteague, my parents would buy a half-bushel and we'd set up shop at a picnic table on the dock to pick crabs and throw the shells in the water.

These days, I still hate to see even a morsel of that sweet, delicious meat go to waste, so I've been known to eat a crab down to the last leg joint. It may take me longer to finish a single crab, but why rush such pleasure?

The fact that good blue crabs are hard, if not impossible, to find in these parts makes them even more special. I've seen them sold at Parker Seafood during the summer, and I think Ukrop's occasionally carries them in the seafood case. But buying crabs in the shadow of the mountains always seems a bit wrong.

Any big blue crab fans out there? What's your favorite crab memory?