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About Cannon Beach gazette. (Cannon Beach, Or.) 1977-current | View Entire Issue (Oct. 27, 2016)
4 // COASTWEEKEND.COM Books, gardening, hiking, hobbies, recreation, personalities, travel & more CLOSE TO HOME A perfect autumn day on the Columbia River NANCY ALLEN’S CRAB CAKE RECIPE By DAVID CAMPICHE A perfect day. Let us imagine the soft choiring of angels, or the hooting of a small owl deep in a copse of Sitka spruce or Western cedar, or sandpiper tracks, laid down indiscriminately, soundless, but with a mysterious voice. Let us imagine a message that pierces our senses and touches us with wonder. Phil and his fi shing pole. A travel writer from Edible Seattle. With her is a fi ne photographer. Her name is Megan Hill and his, Noah Forbes. Carol Zahorsky, a diligent public relations person for the Long Beach Peninsula, has brought along her affable person- ality and keen skills. The visitors are vibrant, talented and certainly impressed with this mighty tug of tide, now fl ooding from ocean to river. It doesn’t feel so much like a river as much as a great salty force that fl oods or ebbs four times a day in predictable cycles, sometimes comfortably, sometimes thrashing with 30-foot surges of fear. Huge. Unrestricted. Awesome. I tell our new friends about shipping, how the ebbing sands and ocean comb- ers have stranded so many vessels. Here is the graveyard of the Pacif- ic. How hard it is, on this bluebird day, to imagine the danger that lurks just below us from our perch on the North Jetty. Swells from the ocean lap onto the fi shing rocks. Spume jumps at our happy faces. One must be cautious. Slip into this ocean and the currents will most likely pull you down. Phil ties a small plastic box onto a heavy leader and heaves that box and its cargo of clam meat far into the water, this the aqueous mixture of salt and freshet on the east side of the North Jetty. Here, where Dungeness crab lie so still or stealthily creep across the ocean fl oor. Here, where salm- on have rendezvoused for eons. A Ingredients 1 pound crab meat ½ cup mayo 3 green onions, chopped ¼ cup parsley, fi nely chopped 1 tablespoon mus- tard 1 teaspoon salt ¼ teaspoon cracked black pepper Panko or bread crumbs PHOTOS BY DAVID CAMPICHE The patient fi sherman plying his trade. Phil has a choice today: He can fi sh for salmon or try and lure in the crusty red-bodied crab. I, for one, fi nd this crab to be the king of all seafood meats. It can be boiled, cracked and served without garnish. It can be baked au gratin, married into fried rice, soup, or with dozens of sauces. But fresh and simple is best, and we will soon attest to that. He feels the tiny tug on the line, tightens the slack, and closes the trap, and then, reels like a man possessed. Suddenly a crab dan- gles before us, a male better than six inches across the back. Dinner! Nancy, Phil’s wife, a fi ne, generous and intelligent woman if ever there was one, has set a picnic table in Cape Disappointment State Park and is boiling water. She has brought a baguette and salad, and a lovely ceramic vase fi lled with Tod Wiegardt’s garden fl owers. She has combined green onion, parsley, mayo and fresh crab into a stunning cake, and mixed up a Cajun mayonnaise to boot. Call this a remoulade if you wish. All that really matters is how good it tastes. After a successful day fi shing, we deliver the crab, about a dozen between us. Boil them. Back them. A party of happy fi shermen and fi sherwomen catching crab off the North Jetty. Accompany sweet meat with drawn butter. There is cold beer in the ice chest. The sky speaks of early fall, and the last heat of sum- mer comforts our bodies. We sit at the wooden table talking approv- ingly about this park, so close to home, with a lake and waterfowl, and two Maya Lin installations, and lastly, the surrounding history of those great explorers, Lewis and Clark and their corps of brave soldiers, one Native American, a woman called Sacagawea, her newborn son, Pomp, and of course, York, the slave of William Clark. He deserved much better. It’s all here, in this park of many acres, with a backdrop of mighty Pacifi c water and tall sky. The skyscape, still a peerless blue, swoops across the water horizon, touching ocean and river, touching us. One feels nothing but fortu- nate. We eat and laugh and tell a few tall tales. An osprey hurls overhead. An eagle glides effort- lessly by, catching the updraft and soaring. Soaring. Mallards dip like Olympic synchronized water dancers in the nearby lake. Grubbing. But my mind is on our good fortune. This landscape we call home. And of course, just how much we have, in our majestic corner of the world. We devour every single crab. Evening comes on, the end of a chapter. I feel the new taste of fall, a particular denseness in the air. And smells. Wonderful natural smells. I think of my Haisla friend, Cecil Paul, and how he taught me to worship nature. And as we eat and laugh, I worship. Directions Mix all ingredients except bread crumbs and form patties. Gen- tly roll the patties in Panko or bread crumbs. Refrigerate for 30 minutes or more. Sauté slowly over medium heat until golden, 3-4 minutes on each side. Optional additions include: lemon juice, lemon zest, cider vin- egar, Tabasco, chili fl akes, capers or dill. From left, Nancy and Phil Allen after a suc- cessful day of fi shing and entertaining.