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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.