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Melty Goodness

8/10/2016

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​I’ve been somewhat obsessed with the neighbors’ melted blinds this last week, so it comes as no surprise that my recipe of choice last night was a Crab Melt. I’d like to think it serves as a good example of my ability to take something negative and twist it, if sometimes absurdly, into a positive.
 
The recipe comes from A Boat, A Whale & A Walrus, a local cookbook by Renee Erickson. It’s filled with menus, recipes, beautiful photos and stories sprinkled throughout about everything from her summers in Washington as a kid to the food suppliers she uses for her restaurants. The recipes can be elegant, yet simple, and always fresh. Like the Pacific Northwest itself, now that I think about it.
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This Crab Melt is so easy and straightforward I had to wonder why it was even included. But…..delicious! I’ve been eating more sensibly lately, avoiding carbs and bad fats and the like, so this was a truly decadent treat. I wanted to use fresh crabmeat, so sauntered up to the seafood counter at a local grocery store and asked for a pound. That’s all he happened to have, and as he handed me the container he hesitated and told me the price. I froze in shock, but I saw a challenge in his eyes – real or imagined – and pride made me take it from him with a forced insouciance. Plus, the thought of the canned stuff by the tuna fish that always seems to have a lot of cartilage in the meat made me throw my self-imposed budget to the wind; I wanted the real deal. Fresh, succulent Northwest goodness.

I made a half-recipe, as it was only for my husband and I, and it made plenty – enough for dinner again tonight. Neither of us is a fan of tarragon, so I swapped that out for fresh garlic chives from the pot on the back porch. I also used Vegenaise instead of mayonnaise. When I want authentic mayo I make it from scratch, but for day-to-day use I like the vegan version. Using fresh crabmeat was the right call, as when I taste-tested the mixture for seasoning before piling it on the English muffin, I wanted to eat it all up right then! We both waited patiently (well, one of us did) while our little toaster oven took forever to broil, getting that sharp cheddar to that perfect melted, golden stage.

I served this with a coleslaw made from what I had on hand: chopped green cabbage, the last of a bunch of cilantro, (so mostly stems), a dollop of Vegenaise, a bloop bloop bloop of rice vinegar, a sprinkle of whatever is in the sugar bowl (Splenda) because it was closer to my hand than the pantry, and a couple generous pinches of Thai ginger sea salt and vigorous grinds of the pepper mill. Can I hear a YUM?


Crab Melts
(makes 8)


4 English muffins, split
2 lbs. picked crabmeat
½ cup mayonnaise
1/3 cup chopped fresh garlic chives
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
6 ounces strong white cheddar, such as Beecher’s Flagship


Toast the English muffins until lightly browned in toaster, and preheat the oven’s broiler setting to high.

In a large mixing bowl, blend together the crabmeat, mayonnaise, chives, and salt and pepper to taste. Place the muffins on a baking sheet, cut sides up. Pile the crab salad onto the muffins, then top the crab with the cheddar.

Place the baking sheet on a rack about 4 inches from the broiling unit. Broil the melts with the door partway open until the cheese is melted and bubbly, turning the pan once if needed to melt the cheese evenly, 3 to 5 minutes total. (The meat inside doesn’t need to be piping hot.) Serve immediately.  

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Blind Obsession

8/10/2016

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I kept wishing they would take the blinds down. Every time I walked past our dining room window, I stopped and stared across the driveway at those blinds. At first glance they just looked broken, like someone bent the slats down when peeping through them and they stayed that way. Then you would notice the odd warping, and realize they were melted. And there was a one by two-foot rectangle just gone, a black absence in the neat pattern of lines at the top. It was so hot in their living room the blinds melted.
 
The night of the fire I couldn’t fall asleep so slid into a kimono and settled myself on the couch with my book. I was reading for a while and had just raided the fridge for a tasty bite of leftover sausage and settled back into my nest, back to my story. Then I heard a large truck pull up in front of the house. It didn’t move, and I turned to see red lights flashing in through that middle part of the curtains that seems to only close all the way half the time. I got up and pulled them aside. A fire truck was in front of our house and the one next door, and our neighbor was standing in her robe in her driveway lit by the truck’s flood lights, hand to her mouth facing towards her house. I ran outside.
 
A smell of burning plastic assaulted me as I flew over the lawn in my bare feet. Once I got to J I could see smoke silhouetted against the black sky. I took her in my arms and asked if she was okay. Once she confirmed she was I asked her firmly where T was, and she nodded toward the driveway saying “There.” Relief flooded through me as he came towards us, in nothing but a pair of loose shorts, his bare chest looking so soft and vulnerable next to the half-a dozen fire fighters fully geared up around him. He joined us, and somehow I grew twice my size and enveloped them in a big mama bear hug of safety, murmuring over and over to them that they were okay, while at the back of my mind I was embarrassed that I had sausage breath. My next thought was that I had to get a robe for T.
 
This was a week ago, and there’s been a fire restoration truck there for a few days now, slowly hauling our friends’ heavily smoke-damaged lives out bits at a time. Incredibly frightening what built-up lint in the dryer hose can do. They were not injured, the house is still standing (though unlivable for at least a month, most likely longer) they have each other – they’re getting married next week; the wedding dress was thankfully at her mom's – but they’re left in a daze of “what ifs.” 
 
The blinds were untouched for a week, and became my obsession. I would make up reasons to walk past our window so I could look at them. They hung there, partly intact, partly drooping in a plastic palsied frown; a grotesque reminder of the biggest “what if…” What if they hadn’t woken up?
 
If I were an artist, I would take charcoal from the charred floorboard that was beneath the dryer that now sits alongside the washer, both burnt-out hulks of sadness in the backyard. On a white wall I would sketch a living room, with family photos, books, a couch with that special pillow that was finally just right for taking a nap. Then I would blow the black dust from my hands over the scene, draw a window over it, and hang those melted blinds over it all. You would smell smoke and plastic, and you would be able to feel the horror of “what if.”
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    Hi, I'm Lori, a lover of feeding people. Be it with words, whimsy, or some tasty food, I want to warm your belly or your heart.  Or at the very least tease out a little smile.

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