Clawing its way to the top Maine’s crab industry scuttling to sidestep lobstering’s shadow

loading...

In the summer, when lobstermen catch a large number of Maine’s most popular bottom feeder, the travails of the Maine crab seem very clear. Both crab and lobster are fished all year, but when the bountiful days of lobstering take off in July, August and September, the diminutive crab, a mere bycatch in the winter, is demoted to a toss-away in the summer.

Any way you look at it, or any way you call it – rock crab, Jonah crab, sand crab, mud crab, or by its urban designation “peekytoe” – the much maligned side-stepper has underdog status. The crab has no license plate, no dedicated council, no neon signs, no Down East pronunciation such as crah-yab.

Unlike the lobster, which has been upgraded from prison food to the state’s most beloved icon, the crab suffers from a local inferiority complex. You can find crab cakes and crab rolls and gooey crab sauces at many Maine restaurants, especially on the coast. But the little crawler never quite gets the spotlight some of us think it deserves.

When it comes to the status of crab, Carl Wilson, lead lobster biologist at the Maine Department of Marine Resources – because the state has no official crab biologist per se – put it this way: “The crab is underutilized, undervalued and underappreciated. It has always been the silent little brother of the lobster industry. So it has had very little attention.”

The fact is: Some of us prefer the delicacy of crab to the meatiness of lobster.

“The peekytoe is the absolutely perfect combination of the sweetness of blue crab and the richness of Dungeness,” said Fred Thompson,

crab lover and author of “Crazy for Crab,” a cookbook published earlier this year by Harvard Common Press.

Thompson, who wrote a section of the book on Maine crabs, is a stalwart partaker and innovator in the culinary variations of crab, whether he gets the meat from his native southern waters in the Carolinas or from northern markets. “I sort of have to have my crab cake fix once a month,” he said. “The key to a good crab cake is to cram it with crab.” To Thompson’s delight, the blue crab has a particularly rich history in Maryland’s Chesapeake Bay area, where crab lovers enjoy rough-hewn feasts devoted entirely to a spicy preparation with Old Bay Seasoning washed down with gulps of icy beer.

But in Maine, only the lobster has feasts.

Indeed, the crab industry in Maine is a comparatively quiet one, driven by women for the most part and often appreciated more outside the state than in. A crab right off the boat brings 40 to 50 cents a pound (compared to lobster’s $4 to $5 a pound). After being steamed and picked, crab’s value escalates to $10 to $14 a pound if you buy it directly from a picker.

The best Maine crab is often speed-shipped to gourmet chefs throughout the country, some of whom will accept only the work of certain state-licensed pickers whose scrupulous talents produce shell-free, fluffy mounds of the really other white meat.

One of those pickers is Tina Gray, who has run her own cottage industry for more than 20 years in a sunlit shack next to her double-wide on Little Deer Isle. In 1997, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration required home pickers to comply with federal safety standards such as taking classes and having separate structures for work. Meeting the standards has been costly and inconvenient, especially in a field that requires daily long hours to make substantial profits. As a result, crab pickers have become less plentiful on Deer Isle, said Gray. But her business blazes on in part, she said, because she already had high standards long before inspections took place.

Her reference is to cleanliness, but the native Mainer knows that her crab has a reputation for being extra sweet, and she swears she adds neither salt nor sugar to the steaming water.

“I don’t eat crabmeat. So I couldn’t tell you the difference,” said Gray, whose mother worked at a local fish factory. “The customers tell me the meat is a lot sweeter and cleaner than others.”

Thomas Keller at the French Laundry in California’s Napa Valley used to require Gray to sign each plastic container she fills. These days, she uses a sticker and marks each with her license number, but she still takes great pride in providing a high-quality product, whether it’s to Keller or to Fisherman’s Friend Restaurant in nearby Stonington. While Gray’s crabmeat is available at a few local restaurants, it can’t be purchased in local markets. Most of it is shipped out of state by Ingrid Bengis, whose Stonington-based seafood company is highly respected in the food world.

Gray’s day starts around 5:30 a.m. – earlier in summer – and ends by midafternoon and often later in the warmer months when demand for her fresh product increases. She works weekdays throughout the year, taking time off only for weekend sport car racing, a family hobby.

In about six hours, Gray and her college-age daughter, Tiffany Eaton, who has been picking since age 2 and working with her mother at age 6, can produce about 28 pounds a day. They enforce small breaks, but the standing work is otherwise constant and takes its toll on Gray’s back and hands. She has daily pain from carpal tunnel syndrome, for which she wears braces at night. .

An hour or so before she gets to the shack, the crabs are hauled by Matt Eaton, her business partner and father of their four children. A lobsterman during the high season, Eaton is happy to provide his “other half” with a product that supports the family when the lobstering money runs out. Occasionally with Tiffany as his stern girl, Eaton collects crabs from inshore traps and delivers them, ready to be steamed in 100-pound batches in a room at the back of the shack. If he doesn’t bring enough home each morning, Gray “can get crabby,” he aptly said. On a busy day, the mother-daughter team will do three steaming sessions that take under an hour each.

Tif & Jai, the name of Gray’s company, typically offers rock crab, the coveted peekytoe, or Cancer irroratus, which is a bay crab. The other commercial crab is the slightly larger Jonah, also known as Cancer borealis, an offshore version from the same family. While there are other crabs – such as the green, snow and queen or spider crab – with commercial value in Maine waters, the rock and Jonah are the two most fished species. In 2002, the Maine DMR reported crab as a $4 million industry with a landing of 9.5 million pounds. (A landing, as opposed to a catch, is anything received from a harvester, not including any organisms released or discarded, according to DMR.) That same year, lobster yielded approximately $211 million and had a landing of 60 million pounds.

But the good news, said Wilson, is that the crab industry is growing. Annual landings have nearly doubled since 2000, which could be a matter of better record keeping, he added, but Wilson predicts that crab has a bright future. It’s abundant, particularly in Penobscot and Casco bays, and, if prices were to increase, said Wilson, the lowly crab could begin to establish its proper place alongside the overshadowing lobster.

For some, it already has.

Fred’s Pretty Darn Close to Perfect Crab Cakes

Makes about 8 crab cakes

2 large eggs

1/4 cup buttermilk

1/4 cup finely diced red onion

2 scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley leaves

1 tablespoon seeded and finely diced red bell pepper

1 teaspoon of Chesapeake Bay seasoning

1/2 teaspoon dry mustard

10-15 saltines, roughly crushed

1 pound of crabmeat, lump or jumbo lump backfin preferred, picked over for shells and cartilage

2 tablespoons of peanut or other neutral-tasting oil (not olive oil)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Gravy flour (such as Wondra) or all-purpose flour as needed

Tartar sauce

Lightly beat the eggs and buttermilk together in small bowl and set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the onion, scallions, parsley, bell pepper, Bay seasoning and mustard. Mix in the saltines. Add the egg mixture and stir to combine. Fold in the crabmeat gently, trying not to break up the lumps. Cover and refrigerate for 2 hours.

Mold the crab mixture into 8 cakes and place on a baking sheet covered with waxed paper. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes or up to 4 hours.

Preheat oven to 350 F.

Heat the oil and butter together in a large saute pan or cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Once the butter has melted, sprinkle the tops of the crab cakes lightly with flour and place the cakes flour side down in the pan. Sprinkle the other side with flour. Cook until browned on the bottom, about 4 minutes. Carefully turn the crab cakes over. Place the pan in the oven and bake until heated through, 10-15 minutes.

Serve immediately, or turn off the oven and let sit in the oven for up to 30 minutes. Serve with tartar sauce on the side.

Crab and Swiss Quiche

Serves 4-6

1/2 cup mayonnaise

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

4 large eggs, lightly beaten

1/2 cup milk

1/2 pound crabmeat, lump preferred, picked over for shells and cartilage

1/2 pound Swiss cheese, shredded

1/3 cup chopped scallions, white and green parts

1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell

Preheat oven to 350 F.

In a medium-size mixing bowl, thoroughly combine the mayonnaise, flour, eggs and milk. Gently stir in the crabmeat, cheese and scallions. Spoon into the pie shell, smoothing the top with a rubber spatula.

Bake until firm in the center, 50-60 minutes.

Let cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes before serving hot, warm, at room temperature or even cold.

Crab Quesadillas

Serves 6-8

Vegetable oil for frying

Four 10-inch flour tortillas

6 ounces Pepper Jack cheese, shredded

1/2 pound crabmeat, picked over for shells and cartilage

4-ounce can diced mild green chiles, drained

3 tablespoons minced fresh cilantro leaves

3 scallions, white and some part of the green part, chopped

Sour cream

Salsa

Have all the ingredients except sour cream and salsa next to the stove.

Heat about 2 teaspoons of oil in a large, nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add 1 tortilla and sprinkle with half the cheese, crabmeat, chiles, cilantro and scallions. Top with another tortilla and press down lightly with a metal spatula. Cook until the tortilla is nicely browned on the bottom and the cheese is starting to melt, 3-4 minutes. Carefully turn with the spatula and cook until other side is nicely browned and the cheese is thoroughly melted. Transfer to a plate. Repeat with remaining tortillas and filling ingredients.

Cut each quesadilla into 8 wedges and serve hot, with bowls of sour cream and salsa on the side.

Recipes from “Crazy for Crab” by Fred Thompson. Alicia Anstead can be reached at 900-8266 and aanstead@bangordailynews.net.