I’ve mentioned before my obsession with crab, so once restaurants in New York start serving up crab boils, I’m all over it.  Back Forty in the East Village seems to get the most press, though Mara’s Homemade (which otherwise, meaning non-crab nights,serves really delicious and inexpensive southern food – love it), City Crab, and Fish and Choptank on Bleecker also have their own specials.

In my neighborhood, there’s an unassuming, little, pub-like place that’s tucked away on Duane Street, aptly called the The Hideaway. (FYI, they are a few doors down from my favorite bakery in Manhattan, Duane Park Patisserie whose scooter pies are to completely die for.)  Until Labor Day, they are doing Sunday and Monday “Blue Crab Nights”, and a similarly crab-obsessed girlfriend and I decided to head over there to make a night of it.  I’ve passed by it countless times, and it’s usually quiet, with a game on the screen.  This night it was brimming.

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I have a mild obsession with crab, and I’m pretty sure it all started around the age of 5.

I went on a mini crabbing expedition of sorts with my family in the Arabian Sea.  It was a day trip really – out on the water on this creaky boat, where we caught these beautiful, huge blue crabs.  Thrilling.  They were cooked right there on the spot with a ton of spices and butter.  I remember breaking them apart, yanking out the soft, sweet flesh, and sopping up the buttery spices with naan.  It was a vivid taste memory I will never forget.

I felt like I was in heaven…until around 6 hours later when I became the sickest ever.  I literally thought I was going to die.  Who knows what was in that water.  But I must really love crab because, unlike tequila, the experience never deterred me from future consumption.

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