Saturday, June 02, 2012
Once I found out that I will not graduate summer quarter (again) because I did not receive a sufficient score on the biology subject GRE (again), I did the next logical thing and took myself out for poached eggs florentine with hollandaise and a side of fresh fruit. I then did the next illogical thing and went to the Asian market next door for vegetables only to come out with flowers and a live three pound Dungeness crab.
I went home with that sea monster rustling ominously in the paper bag all the way. Scary stuff for the crab killing novice. On arrival I watched a tame video on youTube wherein an attractive young man rips the head off of a subservient two pound "tired" crab and pulls out a little bit of green goo. Some in the comments suggested his was already dead but I was encouraged. I thought two more hours in the refrigerator would tire out my little behemoth, too. With high hopes I shoved it in there and blithely cleaned house until four.
At four I took off my shirt and prepared for glory. Really, my husband had complimented it and I didn't want crab juice on it. I carefully grabbed the crab by the back end and drew it from the bag, gently placed it upright on the counter, and it started scrabbling for dear life. Using my special forces reflexes I was able to grab it again and bash its head per the video in order to stun it. Didn't work. I bashed it again. Still didn't work. Again. Again. I set it upright and it flailed backward onto the kitchen floor. I screamed.
Next, I called my brother screaming, OMG! OMG! This is not like the video! OMG! I put him on speaker phone and started to boil some water in my non-stick omelet pan. That's right. I was so scared I was boiling water in a useful non-stick pan. I stopped in time but my thought was still to try to drown it in some warm water. Bad thought. The crab loved the water. OMG! I then tried boiling some water in a steel pan. I poured that across the crab still flipped on its back on the kitchen floor.
Did the legs start to turn a rosy hue? Yes. Did they stop moving? No. I was yelling at my brother and the only thing preventing tears was the sheer adrenaline coursing through my system. He kept saying I am glad I don't eat seafood and I said, Well, it's not always this confrontational.
I got down on my knees with a knife and tried to stab the armored creature. I didn't make a dent and its fluttering legs mocked my incompetence. Finally, I discovered a soft spot with my knife under the tail. I stabbed from a height and as I felt it pierce through the innards I was so upset I screamed again and ran away to the living room.
I'm afraid I did not offer it what the Spartans refer to as a beautiful death.
That all was dramatic but I still had to clean it which was also violent and involved ripping, tearing, cutting, and disposing of viscuos ooze. That was more fun then the first bit which taught me that I need to be a vegetarian to avoid a lifetime of hypocricy. If I was that upset killing a large spider then what if I had to kill something with non-segmented appendages?
Also, lest you think I was upset and just wanted to kill an innocent creature, I might remind you I was making dinner. Once I had a clean shell and a product that looked very much like crab legs, I roasted them in the oven with garlic, butter, and white wine for twenty minutes and served with a small loaf of bread.
The last was anticlimactic and it's Red Lobster for me here on out!