Goin Downey Oshun, Hon

I came late to my native Maryland's treasured pasttime of crab-eating. As a child, I disliked seafood, and the idea of pulling apart an insectile, bottom-dwelling sea creature to get at a few measly morsels of meat that I wouldn't like anyway was far from appealing.

How times have changed.

First of all, I'll eat pretty much anything that comes out of the sea. Second of all, sitting down to a heap of steamed blue crabs, covered in Old Bay, is a welcome exercise in focus and determination the likes of which are not often found often in the eating world. When else, besides hunting and preparing your own food, do you get so close to the guts of the creature you're eating? When else do you appreciate those tidbits of flesh you consume so much, as when tediously extracted from the shell?

My latest foray was to an appropriate venue for crabs -- I went "downey oshun." That's Baltimore-speak for "down the ocean," i.e. Ocean City, Marylanders' favorite beach spot. Mr. H and I opted for an all-you-can-eat joint on 31st St. You better believe my lips were stinging with Old Bay when we were done, hon.