Just look for the pelicans,” Brian told me when I asked for directions. My family and I were in Miami for a few days so I could do a little work and we could all get a break from the frigid New York winter. It was our first time in Florida, and following my friend’s advice, we were hunting down some crab for dinner.
Florida stone crabs are unique: Fishermen remove the claws from trapped crabs, then toss the animals back in the water. If the claws are removed carefully, they regenerate within a year, which as Brian put it, “even the crabs themselves would agree is sustainable.” From all reports, the crab is delicious, too.
But where to buy them? “Stop at the marina on your way home from the Key Biscayne beaches,” Brian said. “The charter boats will be there late in the day selling off the fish their customers don’t want to take home. You’ll get your stone crab claws.” As Brian had predicted, we found the boats selling fish by following the gangly pelicans that stand in line with the rest of the customers while looking for handouts.
We passed on the amberjack and grouper, though the boat hand made the toddler laugh by opening and closing the barracuda’s jaws in her direction. Instead we brought home two pounds of cooked and cracked crab claws, which set us back $20. We spread them on the table with our hosts, opened a bottle of crisp white wine, and went to town in the warm evening air. The meat came out of the claws in big pieces and was everything I want in crab—briny like an oyster or the sea itself, but sweet, too, and clear as the ringing of a bell. “That pasta with crab and red chile we talked about making would have been good,” I said to my wife around a mouthful, “but it wouldn’t have been better than this. Nothing is better than this.”
I’m back in New York again, and it’s freezing cold, and I can still feel the warm breeze and taste that crab. Winter can’t be over soon enough.
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