Nom Nom Paleo: Food for Humans (31 page)

Can’t decide whether to plate up something salty or sweet, crunchy or juicy, bitter or tangy, or nutty or fruity? Make this salad. It marries all of these contrasting yet complementary elements in one bright dish.

The classic Crab Louie originated in the early twentieth century somewhere on the West Coast, but the exact circumstances of its birth are lost to time. Some claim that this “King of Salads” was first served at Seattle’s Olympic Club, while others insist that it was the invention of Solari’s Restaurant in San Francisco’s Union Square. Even James Beard and Helen Evans Brown—two of America’s most esteemed food writers—could never quite see eye-to-eye on whether their beloved Crab Louie was a native son of Beard’s Washington or Brown’s California.

I’m a hometown gal, though, so my vote is for San Francisco. Besides, the centerpiece of this crisp, cool salad is fresh Dungeness crab—the very symbol of the city’s two-hundred-year-old fishing industry. Piled atop lettuce and adorned with ripe tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, and bright green asparagus, the succulent crab meat is what makes this simple salad one that’s fit for a king.

1
pound
asparagus
, trimmed
6
cups
lettuce leaves
or
salad greens
1
pound cooked lump
crab meat
(see below)
4
Perfect Hard-Boiled Eggs
, sliced in half
1
cup
cherry tomatoes
¼
cup minced
chives
½
cup
Louisiana Rémoulade

1. B
   lanch the asparagus by cooking it in a pot of salted boiling water for
   1
   minute. Immediately transfer the asparagus to a bowl of ice water. Drain once the asparagus has cooled.
   
2. D
   ivide the lettuce among
   4
   plates. Arrange the crab meat, asparagus, hard-boiled eggs, and tomatoes atop the lettuce. Garnish with chives, and serve with the rémoulade on the side.
   

It’s a snap to crack open a container of lump crab meat. But if you’re in an ambitious mood, who am I to stop you from brine-boiling a live Dungeness crab? Fresh crustacean meat is a wonderfully delicate, sweet, and juicy reward that makes the effort more than worthwhile. Here’s how to do the deed:

1. B
   ring
   10
   quarts of water to a roiling boil in a large stockpot. Then, add salt to the water ’til it tastes like sea water. Don’t worry about over-salting the water; after all, the brine has to permeate through a tough shell.
   
2. C
   ompletely submerge the live crab in the water. Bring the water back up to a boil and cook for
   20
   minutes, or until the shell turns bright red-orange and the crab floats to the top. Remove the crab and run it under cold water until cool.
   
3. C
   arefully twist off the claws and legs, and use a crab cracker to snap them open. Remove as much meat as you can, but don’t fret if there’s not much in there. The real bounty’s hidden in the body of the crab.
   
4. T
   he bottom half of the crab’s shell—the “apron”—can be easily pried open from the rear of the crab. Using your thumbs, find the crease between the upper and lower parts of the shell, and open the crab up like a book.
   
5. T
   he upper half of the shell contains the gooey “crab butter.” Some folks love it (hi, Mom!), but I don’t, so I usually toss it.
   
6. T
   he bottom, however, is chock-full of tender meat. To get at it, first remove and discard the long gill filaments on both sides of the crab. Then, firmly grasp what’s left of the bottom shell with both hands, and break it in half.
   
7. E
   ach side contains plenty of rich, juicy crab meat. Use a fork or some other sharp-and-pointy tool to pick out all the goodness.
   

Give yourself a round of applause. You’ve just brine-boiled a crab!