Pickin' and Grinnin'

A couple of years ago, a friend and I got in his boat and went up the (Patuxent) river to the Sea Breeze, and had some great hard crabs. I probably reported about it. We have been meaning to recreate that experience ever since, and for one reason or another have not been able to.

He recently had that “second best day of a boat owner” experience, so river travel wasn’t an option this time, but we finally managed to make good our intentions last night. In the intervening time between last night and the original episode, my mind somehow had changed “Sea Breeze” into “Drift Inn”, so we pointed the flutter mobile north and confidently turned at Captain Leonard’s toward the water and the Drift Inn. After driving a little while, we passed a sign about Drift Inn, but thought it was an advertisement and kept going. And going. And going. Pretty soon it became evident that the car was again heading east with no sign of a waterfront, let alone a crab house. Hmmm, maybe we should have turned back there. So did a 180 and retraced our many steps back to the sign. Sure enough, turn here. We did. And again drove and drove, and by this time the smart phone GPS was activated and showed we were in fact headed for the water, but with only one building at the end. I distinctly remembered that Sandgates was right by the Drift Inn, so was puzzled by that. Eventually we did arrive at the building with the Drift Inn sign, but hey! This isn’t where we were! More consulting with the smartphone revealed we were in fact not at the right spot. More driving (humbly aided by satellite this time) eventually brought us to the Sandgates Inn and the nearby…….. Sea Breeze!! That’s it!! But we did have a nice drive through the northern part of the county.

There were quite a few cars, so while I parked, the possibility of a table was checked and I was waived in. While we were “please wait to be seated”, the young lady at the stand was busily typing something into the computer system (a nice foil to the traditional “crab shack” atmosphere). After quite a few minutes, she started writing something on a clip board, still head down “ignoring” us, although she had set out our menus earlier. Eventually my friend said, “um, are you going to seat us?”. Never raising her head or eyes, she replied “my pen ran out of ink”. Oh. I see.

Finally whatever administrative task she was attending to was accomplished and we were taken to a table along the windows facing the water with quite a nice view. After our driving tour, we were pretty thirsty and hungry. Before she left us, she wrote “Rose” on the brown paper with her now working pen and departed. Soon thereafter Rose showed up and asked about drinks. A pitcher of Miller Light, please, and an order of hush puppies. Off she went to retrieve that while we perused the menu. Of course all we wanted were steamed crabs which were listed as that famous “market price” for a dozen. Market price in the end turned out to be forty bucks, but it’s been so long I really don’t know if that is indeed “market” price. It certainly didn’t deter other diners as there were many platters of the crustaceans on the tables strewn with bits and pieces of shells, dead men, and just plain crab guts. Pretty quickly she returned with a red plastic basket (of course) of the little lumps of dough and the welcomed very cold beer in that cheesy plastic pitcher that is required. We ordered the crabs, and got down to business. Water view, cold beer, hush puppies, and Old Bay in the air. Doesn’t get much better. The hush puppies were steaming hot, and were really very good. They were nicely crisp on the outside, and not heavy on the inside with many kernels of corn. Hit the spot and took the edge off.

And, just before the last little morsel of puppie was consumed, the steamed crabs arrived, all orange and with the requisite Old Bay aroma. They in fact must have just come out of the steamer because you could hardly touch them, let alone going for the meat. I thought that they were not as “Old Bayed” as some I’ve had which let the flavor of the crab come through. So after a cooling off period, we waded in, and began picking. It had been a while since I had done this, so it took a few minutes to recall the technique (thank you Ms. TB) and I did pretty well. Many times I got that whole lump from the backfin. Talking, picking and enjoying and slurping the beer. We did manage to get through all the (13) crabs and split the last one. Just about the right amount. Rose, who had many years on most of the rest of the waitstaff, was pleasant to talk to when she checked occasionally. She said to come back in September or October when the crabs were “really big”. I think we will. I’m sure there are other places around but think you would be happy here. They have a great bar area as well, which is as big as the dining spaces. A “Just Right” place in my book.

I suppose there are similar experiences around the country, but sitting down to a brown paper covered table with that little cardboard caddy of cocktail sauce, malt vinegar, shakers of Old Bay, salt and pepper, and communally digging into a pile of crabs where you really interact with the food is a nice thing. Brings people together over food, and with the tedious cracking of the crabs provides a time to converse and share experiences. A great feature of our region.

And for this menu, for once this is where you can revel in T-shirts, shorts, flip flops and your ball cap on backwards. That is appropriately

DFD

PS: normal Friday “to do” is kind of suspended this week due to the weather. Yes there will be a river concert tonight (last one for heaven’s sake), but my “to do” will be stay inside read a book and wait for nightfall.