Friday, December 17, 2010

An apology

Dear Erik,
Although it was indeed only I who stood over the kitchen sink, cracking the legs of the Dungeness Crab open with my teeth and digging my fingers into the crevices and joints to pull out every thread of meat while you hung out on Facebook, I do recognize that our marriage vows included sharing every crab that comes within our midst. And although I did put on Facebook that all I wanted for Christmas was a Dungeness crab and realized that I was the only one likely to take me seriously so I bought that crab on sale $1.60 off the regular price so at $5/lb, I was not breaking any Christmas bank, I admit that while I dug and cracked and picked the crab that I promised you could have some crab later. And although I did in fact make you some crab dish that you liked (see yesterday's post) better than I, I have to admit that I did not mention that there was some crab leftover. And although you said, just that night that you loved crab sandwiches as much as I, I nodded and said, well, let's try this crab-stuffed trout thing instead.

So yesterday, when I had about 6 oz of crab leftover from the crab-stuffing project and Max and I decided that 10:30 a.m. was a good time for lunch, I have to apologize that I went straight for the crab. And I'm sorry that I chopped the celery into such tiny bits and minced the onions finely. I'm sorry I stirred in mayo and a bit of mustard. I apologize for adding celery salt and a titch of your favorite hot sauce. I'm sorry I was so gleeful to use gruyere instead of the usual plastic swiss we slice for these sandwiches. I'm sorry that I toasted the English muffin perfectly and dolloped the just-enough-crab mixture onto the muffin, then topped that with the cheese. I'm sorry I broiled the sandwich until the cheese bubbled brown. It was, I admit, delicious. And it is possible that it might have tasted even better if you'd been here to share. But I would have still been hungry. As it was, I still wanted another one.

With some regret, although not quite enough,
Your only wife

I promise to pick you a new crab clean, like any good otter-wife.


Dr Write said...

I think MB owes me a similiar apology, except it was something I made and left in the fridge and then he just ate it and wasn't even sorry.
So you are, indeed, a good wife.

Lisa B. said...

You are a good wife. And sometimes, a good wife has to keep her strength up, I submit. With a crab sandwich. So she can live to pick and crack another day.

Mary Anne Mohanraj said...

Kevin doesn't like seafood. It's tragic.