Crabfest at Hungry Cat

She's been waiting. Four long years of reading about so many great experiences at Hungry Cat's wild and crazy Crabfest, an annual gathering of gourmands, gustatory pros, and gluttons. Rickmond of Rameniac was saying that in prior years, when the pristinely fresh Maryland blue crabs were available for unlimited consumption, it would be an all-out gorge fest. I actually hadn't read too much about the event itself - I only heard Christine's wishes to attend this year about, say, 4106 times. Literally.



So, I made sure to heed her desire when HC offered to make reservations for us. It was a long month waiting, but the day finally arrived. We had an early 11AM reservation inside the restaurant, which made it ideal for lighting. Actually when I was doing the post-processing for these photos, I was almost giddy because of how great they came out. Seriously, these photos aren't because of me, it's because of this amazing soft lighting that just blanketed the room in perfect food photo lighting. I can easily relive this meal because of it.

Matty Eggleston, a friend and a polished yet creative bartender helped put together the fruit-forward cocktail program at Hungry Cat. Though he's no longer officially associated with Hungry Cat, he was there for the Crabfest and said hello to Christine and me. Matty has made us delicious drinks at The Varnish and the recent Rosangel Hibiscus Rum competition at Malo (where he also won first place with his nutella-based Lullaby cocktail), though he know consults on the budding cocktail program at Wurstkuche.



Chef David Lentz was manning the large stoves up front where he and another cook were steaming up the still-live blue crabs. A quick detour/lesson on blue crabs. They're cultivated and raised all along the Atlantic Coast and Gulf of Mexico. They're harvested using "crab pots", wire mesh traps and sorted out by male and female since there are catching limits for female crabs. An old adage goes that if the abdomen or "apron" looks like the Washington Monument, it's a male, if like Capitol Hill, a female. I'm not sure if the crabs we had were all male or female, but a flavor difference isn't noted in the meat. We did, however, encounter delicious creamy sacs inside the shell which we surmised was either the eggs or the liver. Either way, it was as delicious as warm ankimo, or monkfish liver, if not more tender and luscious in texture. Final note: why are they blue? The beautiful bright blue pigment Alpha-crustacyanin interacts with a red pigment, astaxanthin, forming a greenish-blue coloration. When the crab is cooked, the Alpha-crustacyanin breaks down, leaving only the astaxanthin, which turns the crab red-orange (quoted from Blue Crab Archives).

We were lucky enough that Chef Lentz prepared these the classic Maryland way using Old Bay Seasoning, a brilliant red seasoning that's heavy on celery seed, bay leaf, salt, and pepper. It was so good that Rickmond dared us to lick the clumps directly off the steamed crab 'aprons", an almost masochistically salty goodness that made me feel like a cow on a salt lick. My doctor, who's concerned about my hyper-tension, was probably frowning somewhere.

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I didn't get any cocktails since it was morning, but I did get a taste of each of these beverages. The first is a Black Eyed Plum, made with cachaca, muddled plum, basil, and lime. It was just sour enough to balance the overweening sweetness. It sure looked fantastic. Fiona had a vodka-based drink with fresh orange and peach slices to tame the fiery liquor. Rickmond had a julep-like bourbon drink mixed with cream and berry. It too was quite strong on the liquor, so I made sure to have just a small sip. The last was an IPA from Port Brewing, which paired well at a later point in the meal with the softshell crab salad.



We started the meal with a simple but effect amuse bouche, a modest crab salad atop a mini bun, buttered and toasted for our enjoyment. It was a little difficult to eat so I just took the meat off and bit into the bread while picking up bites of the meat with my fork. It wasn't overly sauced with mayonnaise and the fresh crab was delicious. A nice start to the meal.



Next was a comforting, well-seasoned soup aptly dubbed "The Pride of Baltimore", laced with dreamy whists of tender crabmeat swirled into a rich stock of aromatic vegetables and undoubtedly crabshells. I was eager to dip the superbly grilled cornbread into it, though it held on its own quite well with a mild yet sweet corn flavor.



Probably my favorite "prelude" dish of the morning was a beautiful roasted softshell crab salad, placed atop fresh mesclun greens, crispy bacon, sweet white corn, (true) blanched haricot verts (my favorite vegetable), and a gentle vinaigrette that bound it lovingly together. The lightly breaded softshell crab was a wonder of texture and flavor, bursting with juices. The entire construction was on the border of my unction-tolerance but I survived without too much fuss. I gobbled it down, glad that everyone else had a dish of their own. I was almost unwilling to share it.



We also had a requisite heirloom tomato salad, well-seasoned with a tangy vinaigrette and covered in slices of mild pecorino cheese and arugula. The tomato nearly melted in my mouth while the rather firm cheese provided a contrast. I could've done without the cheese, though it did afford a gorgeous photo.




While we waited for our lot of six crabs (each) to come, I had a little fun with the camera and the adorable little wooden hammers we got for crunching up the crabshells. She doesn't seem amused.



We were also given a potato salad, more straightforward than particularly ground-breaking, but it was an effective side dish to the crab feast awaiting us.



At first you think - six blue crabs? I could take that down easy, but these puppies are pretty big. At first you're timid, but then you forget your manners and attack with all fingers and limbs and taste buds. The first bite of the sweet, delicious meat is heavenly, laced with Old Bay spices and the immediate warm heat of the steamer. It's a process digging out the meat from various crevices and orofices, each find a lucky treat for the able forager. The table was instantly quieted by munching diners though a loud thud and crack of the hammer filled in the blanks. Personally I relish the legmeat, especially the claw. it's the perfect piece, the tenderloin or better yet, the proverbial "oyster" of the crab. The bigger legs offer similarly good meat though without an entire mouthful like the claw gives. The inside proffers the custardy, rich crab "butter", initially disgusting in sight, but easily compensated by its distinct, buttery flavor. There's really no other way to describe it. Once you crack open the shell, you divulge into the synchronous sides of flesh which offer the largest overall cache of meat. It's tough to dig through but its as rewarding as it is arduous. The meat is cleaner, simpler yet worlds more flavorful than dungeness crab.



We kept eating, and eating, and eating until it all just started tasting the same, though the diminishing marginal utility was only ever-so-slight. It's like getting sick of foie gras, truffle, and caviar but without the expense attached. I ended up busting through 3.5 crabs before having to leave for church. I heard by the end, there wasn't much appetite for the standard-issue peach cobbler. Some diners were full for days, weeks (actually mostly just for the rest of the day). This sort of Lucullan meal, an almost scandalous feast of monumental proportions, will live on in our memory, only to be awakened next year for Hungry Cat's annual Crabfest. Make reservations early, and come ready to eat.



Hungry Cat
1535 Vine St
Los Angeles, CA 90028
(323) 462-2155