EXOTIC as it may sound to a city-slicker, catching crabs is a common pastime for riverside dwellers in the villages near Mangalore. At my aunt's house, located in a most idyllic setting beside a creek in Kemmannu (Udipi district of Karnataka), crabbing was almost like a summer holiday ritual.
Unlike angling, crabbing does not demand a mountain of patience or to be rooted to a spot. You secure the bait firmly to the bottom of a net trap along with a weight and simply fling it into the water when the tide is just coming in. Then you go about your work, checking now and then to see if any crabs have crawled in and begun feeding on the bait, which is usually fish heads or chicken waste left overnight to rot and stink to high heaven. That stink is exactly what entices these scavengers.
Are they already in the net? Oh great! You're a step closer to tucking into crab drowned in a fiery red curry for lunch...yummm...never mind that the scorching summer heat suggests you'd be better off eating something else that's cooling for the body.
And now, here's a helpful tip if you don't want to risk losing a free lunch. While you crane your neck to see if they've landed in the net or not, ensure that your shadow doesn't fall over the water, because crabs are clever and wary creatures. At the slightest hint of movement, even that of a faint shadow over the net, they'll scurry away and it will be a long while before they venture close to the net again.
But once the unsuspecting crabs are firmly entrenched into the net feasting away merrily on a banquet of rotting food, you skilfully haul it in by its string (which is usually tethered loosely to the nearest coconut tree or held under a weight, usually a stone). Be careful not to get a painful pinch with their deadly claws. My cousin would do one better. Cruel as it was, she would pin the crustacean down with her foot firmly on its shell and yank its claws off with her bare hands,
(Ouch! That hurt...!), completely dismembering and disarming the poor creature. If only the crab knew it was going to land straight into someone's curry pot! Maybe crabs are not so clever after all.
Happy crabbing!
Meanwhile, during May huge sea crabs are available in our market, each weighing up to a kilo or more, with claws that might be mistaken for a pair of pincers from your toolbox. There's something else that's rather unusual about this variety of crab. Mother Nature has imprinted a cross right in the centre of its back as if to give it a cross to bear! And probably because the pattern so closely resembles a crucifix, it's not surprising to find the largest of the shells - wider than an average hand span - displayed like a prized trophy on the walls of many an old Catholic home in the villages near Mangalore.
Cleaning crab might look complicated but isn't really a daunting task. You lift the shell off its back, then remove the grey gills also called 'dead man's fingers', trim the rest of its limbs (with a pair of multi-purpose scissors) and then crack it vertically in half. Wash well. Most fishmongers will clean them for you. I get mine to also give the claws a good whack, hard enough to make them crack. This makes it easy to prise out the sweet, succulent flesh afterwards.
Hands-on is the best way to eat crab. Cutlery is of no use here.
The other day I picked up two kilos of blue crab (which amounted to only 8 or 9 crabs) that went into a curry, pictured above. Be content drooling over the pic...and don't get crabby because I'll post the recipe shortly.
