Cravings

It is 1:00 in the morning.

I am craving for steamed crabs.

As I scan the internet for images to complement this blog entry, I remember my visit to Pike Place Market in Seattle, Washington. Aside from the visual treat of the flying fish, bright bouquets of flowers, vegetables, fruits, delicacies, and other merchandise, I recall seeing the biggest, freshest crabs that I could have imagined.

And while at Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco, as I walked through Fisherman's Alley, I couldn't help but inhale the steaming aroma of cooked crabs.

The aroma was of the ocean and the warmth of the familiar taste of the crab flesh, of which eating it would have been an experience itself...especially when opening the cap, twisting the legs, or cracking the shell with whatever tools available to have the luscious meat revealed.

I remember my Mom cooking 'relyenong alimasag' (stuffed crab), similar to what is pictured above.

Or my family simply enjoying the steamed crab as we would dip the meat in a mixture of vinegar and fish sauce (patis), sometimes with mini-peppers (siling maanghang) for heat.

There will be the smell, the taste, the sight, and the touch...but also the sounds of the cracked shell and sucking mastication.

I am hungry...