My entire life has revolved around our ocean’s bounty, whether it be in the fierce beauty of storms I’ve witnessed living next to its waters in Ventura or during my early years living in Aberdeen, Wash.
My winter memories are of fog lying low along the ocean shores of Westport, Wash., just a few miles from our home. That fog would drift across the narrow roads, carrying with it the smells of the ocean. I remember the fresh clean smell of the evergreen trees after a light rain would combine with the fog, much like our redwood trees here in the valleys.
But mostly I remember the smell of fish and how cold and wet it was in my uncle and aunt’s fish cannery. Uncle and aunt lived in Westport. Aunt managed the cannery while uncle worked as a laborer on the new jetty being built. On many weekends, uncle, along with my large family of aunts and uncles, would help in the rickety old building at the end of the wharf.
In the 1940s, it was not uncommon to find both men and their wives working seven days a week. While men in Washington state worked in the logging, sawmills, farms or seafood canneries, their wives tended large vegetable gardens, backyard chickens, and in my family, housed boarders who worked in the lumbermills or were fishermen. It was not uncommon to have many schoolteachers renting rooms in our town.
Bicycles and buses were the mode of transportation, and if leaving town for any reason, greyhound buses and trains were necessary.
On our weekends at the ocean, I would sit on a pile of crab traps by a fire burning in an empty oil drum while the fishermen were unloading their catch of the day. It seemed to me that everything on their boats was jumping, crawling or snapping.
On Sundays my family would spend the day digging razorback clams, and when their limit was reached, we would go to the nearby state park for a clam and crab feed. Unlike the round Pismo clam, the razor is shaped like a green hotdog bun about 6 inches in length, with its necks sticking out one end and its digger, the other. If its neck was touched, it would spew seawater from it. My family loved them; I detested them.
The Dungeness crab was my favorite. These crabs are named for the town of Dungeness, in northern Washington state. My uncles would pull off the crab’s hardshell back, clean out the inside, and toss them, one by one, along with the clams, onto the grate over very hot coals.
Pots of hot melted butter with garlic would be bubbling to be poured over homemade loaves of sourdough bread and for dipping our crab and clam meat into. And always, bowls of an aunt’s potato salad were on the picnic table.
We stayed until the fire had died down and before the fog bank would drift in over the shore.
Two years ago, I returned to Westport, and standing on the end of the new wharf I shed tears for what had been and for what could no longer be. Oh, but I have memories for which I am grateful.
Every Saturday these last two months neighbor Mike has brought me three live Dungeness crab from our harbor in Santa Cruz; crab that I have cooked and cleaned and its meat to be wrapped in light and tender crepes and covered with a Béarnaise sauce.
Seventy of these crepes will be constructed and served at the first Damians Ladder Donor/Volunteer luncheon on Saturday, the third of May in Scotts Valley.
To date, Damians Ladder has made close to 400 repairs, free of charge by our volunteer Handymen, to the homes of low-income seniors and people with disabilities. Saturday I will spend the day assembling those Dungeness crab crepes along with other delectables, in honor of all who have contributed to our success. Believe me, this will be a “labor of love” as well as doing what I love best…cooking.
Our crab season here in Monterey Bay has come to a close as whales have returned to our part of the ocean. However, crab will still be available, brought into our markets from the Pacific Northwest.
My final meal of this year of that sweet crab meat will be in its purest form…a Crab Louie salad. Crisp iceberg lettuce with a mound of pure crab meat atop and slices of hardboiled egg surrounding; alongside, a dish of Thousand Island dressing with lemon slices.
The following recipe for the Crab Louie salad originated at the Solaries Restaurant in San Francisco during 1914. I have been served this salad with many other ingredients, such as olives, green peas, scallions, grated carrots, cucumber, etc. Green Goddess dressing is also an excellent dressing.
Regardless of which dressing you choose, make sure all ingredients are cold and crisp and that the crab meat is plentiful! Sheer perfection!
Thousand Island Dressing
*Makes 1-1/2 cups
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup catsup
1 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp. Tabasco sauce
1 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
3 Tbsp. dill relish
2 Tbsp. minced red onion
1/8 tsp. garlic salt
1/4 tsp. each S/P
Green Goddess Dressing
*Makes 1 cup
In a blender jar add:
2-4 anchovies or 2 tsp. anchovy paste.
1 garlic clove
3/4 cup mayonnaise
3/4 cup sour cream
1/2 cup fresh parsley
1/4 cup fresh tarragon or 1 tsp. dried tarragon.
3 Tbsp, chopped chives
2 Tbsp lemon juice
S/P to taste
Blend until smooth and chill.
Colly Gruczelak, a Ben Lomond resident, loves people and loves to cook. Contact her at [email protected].
