Monday, April 29, 2013

Violence at Sea

Illutuk Bay, Busuanga, Philippines, December 2010 

We have been craving for crabs since the start of our trip. Somewhere on our 10th day or so, just when we were about to give up finding fresh crabs, a man in a makeshift styrofoam boat approached us to offer his catch. We paid P600 for 6 larger than average live crabs, approximately 5 kilos total, each with a shell of at least 16 cm across for about 1/5 of the price in Manila. We were so thrilled and couldn’t wait for dinner. But first I had to cook them. 

Crabs are easy to cook- just drop them alive in boiling water till they turn orange. I have never thought twice about this until last week as I was reading the book "Dearie: The Remarkable Life of Julia Child" by Bob Spitz. Julia Child, who brought French cuisine to and revolutionized cooking in America in the 60s, caused havoc amongst animal activists and was dubbed a murderer when she chucked a live lobster in boiling water in an episode of her show The French Chef for a lobster recipe. I wonder what these animal lovers would have thought of me as I continue my story. 

I had 6 big vicious very much alive and kicking crabs and one small pot. Space is a luxury in a boat so everything in Paraluman comes in efficient sizes. After figuring out how to cook the crabs (one by one), I got ready to work then realized that a single one won’t even fit in my cute pot. I had no choice but to tear off the claws and legs first so the bodies will fit into the cooking pot.
This man in a makeshift styrofoam boat sold us the crabs

How do you amputate 6 hyperactive crabs who suddenly seem to sense that they are about to be dismembered by a clueless cook? Although their pincers are tied, here they are crawling, gesticulating, waving their hairy thorny legs, fighting to stay on top of each other and climbing over my tiny sink. 

Do I kill them first to spare them the agony of seeing their appendages severed? How do I kill them? Spear them? Whack them on the floor? It’s too late for hypothermia in the refrigerator because dinner is one hour away. The only way I know is to pitch them in boiling water but as I said, they’re too big for my pathetic pot.

So I proceeded to breaking off the claws and legs of these living crabs. It was violence at sea.

The legs looked easy enough to yank off with my fingers but the crabs’ survival instinct kicked in as soon as I grabbed them, jerking their sharp legs and scratching me until I was bleeding. So I just set them on the sink and, with practice and good timing, cut off each writhing leg with scissors. Strangely enough, the crabs did not seem to notice that they had just been disjointed and were still attempting to crawl with their claws. 

Detaching the claws was the most difficult part. I couldn't yank off those bulky ferocious sharp claws with my bare hands. Both claws were tied by one string and if you pull one off, you free the other one for attacking; you needed to jerk off both claws at the same time if you were to use your hands. I asked Raul for help and we set in motion teamwork gleaned from 22 years of marriage. I held each crab down with pliers (the longest tool we could find in Paraluman with a blunt edge) while he cut off the claws with scissors. It was a struggle to set the scissors in the muscle in the joint and Raul accidentally cut through the tough shell several times. Our daughter Marina and grandson Diego watched with amusement and disgust from the safety of the cockpit and cheered each successful amputation.
Just when we were developing a rhythm, a crab came untied and lunged at Raul who was bending down for a closer look. Raul, all 74 kilos and 1.8 meters of him, squealed like a girl and jumped back 1 meter at the same time. I tried hard not to laugh as I watched him battle this runaway crab with claws unfettered going after him in our tiny kitchen.

Finally, after destroying a pair of scissors in the process and experimenting with other heavy duty instruments in Raul's toolbox, we were ready to cook our crabs- sans claws and legs but their hearts still beating (crabs must have nine lives!). Paraluman looked like a war zone with bits of shell and other crab parts everywhere. We felt like barbarians- drenched in sweat, smelling of raw crab, our arms and hands scratched and bleeding, but victorious in battle.
Crabs with our favorite dips- calamansi with butter sauce for Raul and sauteed garlic in olive oil for me.
It was one of our best meals ever, made delicious by the sweetness of success. We took our time, dined under the moonlight and ate with our hands with the juices dripping through our fingers. The crabs were fat and fatty, the meat tasty and succulent. We nourished every bite and picked and sucked each crab dry and licked our fingers clean.
I just bought a 28 cm wide cooking pot for Paraluman. It can fit 6 big live crabs.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Continuation of "Bird --t and Karma"

It's been 4 months and the birds are still shitting on this boat! I was back in Busuanga for Holy Week and this sight greeted me. But I'm not laughing, ok?! (straight face)



Read this to know the whole story and why you should be good to your neighbors.
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