Thursday, March 31, 2011
Food For Thought
I hadn't expected the flood of sweet sentimentality that washed over me when I saw them. I haven't seen living fresh Chesapeake Bay blue crabs since the summer days of my youth spent on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and Virginia. The mere sight of them flushed me with memories of my father, family, friends, boyfriends, and girlfriends that shared Eastern Shore experiences with me. It's funny that a bucket of crabs brought back so many images of days filled with crabbing, kite-flying, swimming, eating, drinking, playing, and loving. A dozen crabs. A thousand memories.
The boiling crab pot fogged our cold windows with pungent vinegar, bitter beer, and Old Bay-spiced aromatic steam. Our house smelled like a beachside Maryland crab shack.