Southern Summers

9 Oct

There is something about a hot summer in the south coming to an end. And I for one am not a fan. Ever since I can remember, my summers have always revolved around family, salt water, aquatic life, and mud. I live here in the summers:

Oh, and so does my Lilly.

It’s hard to get bored when you can throw in a cast net and catch an unwanted bushel of mullet or a pint of good sized Georgia brown shrimp. You can literally catch your dinner. Can’t get much fresher than that. Catfish was the catch back in my young years, whether you wanted one on the end of your pole or not. But something happened over the years, and they died off in the area. Fishing isn’t a favorite of mine anyway. I’m too impatient. Plus I usually wind up with a sting ray or a persistent crab on the other end. My favorite thing to do is crab. It is easy, it is fool proof, and it is amusing watching the skeptical dogs circle around one like they’re actually going to make a move.

The blue crab. Ugly and probably terrifying to some, but a highly entertaining creature. Let a few loose on the dock and watch them scramble running into things and making the pups so intrigued you’d think their heads were permanently tilted sideways. Also, delicious little things. People pay a ridiculous amount for some of these guys. Easy to catch, easy to eat. Boil them up and dip into some butter or some of the garlicky, soy sauce concoction dad makes. Yum-o. The recipes are endless. I love crab dips and crab cakes. However, I have a new favorite. I went to the farmers market in Beaufort with a friend, and she introduced me to a little old man known for his crab cakes. But on this special day, he was making crab cake omelets with his signature remoulade-ish sauce. Words can’t even describe it. One of these days, I will master my own recipe and share with you lucky folks.

And look at this guy. Stone crab. Scary. I’m not a fan of spiders. Gross. And these guys are kind of related. Well, crabs and shrimp in general are. But shrimp and blue crab don’t freak me out. This stone crab, on the other hand, had hairy legs – like a spider. And it was freakishly strong. It’s okay though. I screamed a few times, and then cooked and ate his claw. And the world was better.

Until next summer, crabs. Better get multiplying.


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