A WORD ON FOOD ‘STONE CRABS’

And a Stone Crab Gazpacho Recipe for Cooks in the Crowd

(Freshly cracked, chilled ‘Stonies’. Photo by author.)

My first sight of Stone Crabs could have been when my mother and father took us to ‘Joe’s Stone Crab’ when we were very young. Our parents loved the lifestyle of that glorious patch of land just off the coast back in the 1950’s while they were still young and they were still in love. I remember some of the restaurants, but I was merely a boy tagging along with my two beautiful sisters, Jane and Bet. I’m sure I was not likely to be digging a cocktail fork into the claws of crabs as much as I might have sought heavily powder sugared, full fat buttered up French Toast circled by a river of maple syrup.

When I first came to Florida to live, I went clear down to Key West. I was 21. It was much more of a working fishing town than it is today. In the 1970s, the shrimp, lobster and stone crab boats still worked the harbor at ‘Land’s End Village’. The first place I cooked in was a BBQ place named, “The Midget”. My girlfriend and I lived on Caroline Street in a former saloon named ‘The Red Doors’. I met a guy with long blonde hair and fair skin who was known by the name of “Yellow Bird”. Many folks had nicknames in Key West. “Monkey Tom”, “Buckets”, “Sister” and “Sideways” were just some. I’d met “Yellow Bird” for the first time behind ‘The Half Shell Raw Bar’. He had just come from a short stint in county jail for sleeping in public or some other minor shit and was eager to get back his job of stone crabbing. I was waiting for my shift to start at the BBQ place. I was curious to know about life at sea. “Yellow Bird” was my first guide. We sat behind the waterfront bar near the gently swaying fishing boats docked there and drank from cold aluminum cans. Enjoyed a smoke too. He got a kick out of the fact that I was cooking for my living. I couldn’t understand why in that I was just a low paid grunt laborer sweating my ass off on the graveyard shift. ‘What kind of future is that?”

He explained that stone crabs burrow themselves in deep holes of sandy mud when they can near creeks and estuaries, as well as under rocks among the mangrove roots. Traps are baited with items like fish heads, pigs' feet, or chicken necks, then placed in the water and later retrieved to collect the crabs. Some fishermen also hand-catch crabs by diving or snorkeling. But most commercial boat workers lay out wooden traps that are brought up with hoists dripping with seawater as they rise carrying the crustaceans. To prevent extinction, fishermen have learned to twist off only one of the claws which allows the species to survive growing a new albeit smaller claw in time. Even they get a nickname; ‘retreads’.

(Photo by author. Stock Island, Florida outside ‘Hogfish Bar and Grill’.)

I came to a barter relationship with “Yellow Bird”. My boss let me take home the ribs at the end of the night that hadn’t sold and had sat on the grill too long to be of use. “Yellow Bird” was allowed to take home a few pounds of crab after each trip out. He had his fill of crabs, and I’d burned out on ribs. So, we swapped. One day I asked him if he could bring me some ‘greenies’ he’d told me about (crabs not yet cooked) some time. Stone crabs are always fully cooked and iced onboard the boats. I was curious to see what could be done if I made a flavored broth and steamed them in that. He seemed intrigued at the notion, but I never did get my greenies. But I did get a lesson. He told me of how the crabs reproduced. He said, “The male crab must wait for the woman crab to molt … another way of sayin’ lose her hard shellbefore the male can make it with her. It’s fucking amazing to see that the male will stick around for hours or even days to protect her.” He added, “too bad we don’t see more of that up in our human world”. He also told me of the creatures that eat stone crabs. “Stone crabs get eaten by more than humans Bro. Grouper and cobia love ‘em. It’s a trip to see a turtle snappin’ one in his jaws”.

I confessed that I didn’t think I could handle being out in the dark water with no land in sight for nights on end like he could. He inhaled deeply, pulling it all in and replied simply, “The Ocean is our Mother. She holds me safe”.

One afternoon I went to visit him on the boat. I had not realized he played the drums. His drums were the plastic buckets that the stone crabs were delivered to the restaurants in Key West. He played them with a fervor. He was covered head to toe in sweat sitting shirtless out on the deck in the open sunlight. That was the last time I saw him for years.

I went down to Key West the other day. The Florida stone crab season’s last day coincidentally. I ran into my old friend. He had gotten skin cancer. He was still going out on the water, but he had to cover himself up with a hat and goggles that covered his face and neck entirely. In fact, every inch of skin was covered. He carried on his work, but when I looked at him scuttling back and forth across the deck all I could see of ‘Yellow Bird’ were his eyes … like a crab, wreathed in its protective shell, evading life’s predators.

STONE CRAB GAZPACHO,

(Photo Credit to Penny De Los Santos).

Recipe by Norman & Justin Van Aken © from, “MY KEY WEST KITCHEN”, Kyle Books

What soup could be more perfect in the late afternoon of a hot day to fuel a young cook, (that I once was)? It is descended from the Romans and its construction originally could not have originally involved tomatoes at all. Columbus changed that and, to my belly, all for the better. It is one of the few soups that contain a vinegar. Buy a high quality one and your work will shine. Of course, with the Stone Crab you are going “Sunday Best”.

Yield: 9-10 Cups