Everyone Should Have Crabs

...or so they say at Barking Crab in Boston. This place is harborside, so they have nice views. The crab ain't bad either. But I'm not sure how crab could be made to taste bad since you just boil it and then dip the meat in butter. Everything is better with butter, right...Tory?

Steph and I are here (Wellesley at Babson College to be exact) for The Power of Natural Healing, a week-long macrobiotic conference by The Kushi Institute. But before we were dorm-bound, we hooked up with the now 3-year Bostonian, Erica C. (she and I used to also work at the Shoah Foundation back in the day), who took us to crab heaven (or hell if you're a crab). To the right is the lobster-shaped pager they gave us while we waited.

We shared a crab cake appetizer that conveniently served three and coleslaw for two that actually served four or six. Erica ordered a Po' Boy because she's shell-challenged. Steph got a bucket o'Dungeness crab legs. I devoured the Lonely Jonah. It's the local crab that looked suspiciously like the Dungeness but just smaller and sweeter.

And literally, I ate the whole thing. That's him, wielding a speared lemon wedge. He didn't stand a chance against me. I eat every edible part of the crab even the creamy insides of it--hey, it's a delicacy. As Erica stated, "You're so Asian, Vanessa." Which is ironic because she's Philipino and can't crack a shell. Let no part of anything go to waste like tongue, brains, feet or ganglia.

The paper placemat they gave us had instructions on how to disassemble Jonah or any of his kin, but I didn't need it. Although, they talked of cracking the shell with a rock but only provided nutcrackers. I was so looking forward to forcible destruction. It was probably better for everyone around me that there was no rock. As it was, I almost shot shell shrapnel into Steph's lemonade.

Steph did a good job on her own. I think she ate about 5 lbs. of crab and worked hard for it, too. She was not given a rock either.

Apparently Barking Crab is very popular. Many stood outside waiting. After dinner, we three walked around downtown, along the Freedom Trail, passed where Benjamin Franklin's parents are buried, through the Boston Common and Public Garden at which point I had to have this picture taken.

And no, I didn't see Norm.

Unfortunately, I didn't tell Noelle that I was going to Boston so she Facebook-ed me about getting a cannoli at Mike's Pastry after we left Boston.

Next time. More crab and a cannoli!