Crabbing.

This afternoon my mother, sister, and I went out for crabs and they were scrumptious.

As a child, I was not a seafood person at all. Mom used to make salmon or swordfish at home and furthermore on days when my parents wanted a little snack, they'd break out a can of sardines. The thought of these things was revolting to me (sardines still aren't my thing!). But I was made to eat some seafood at home because they thought it was good for me and it would build character. It certainly wasn't the only option offered; my parents were kind enough to provide me with chicken nuggets or some other not-real-food choice so I wouldn't go hungry that night. But when I did try the fish of the night I was quite afraid of the thorns getting lodged in my esophagus and would perform "surgery," as I called it, on tiny pieces of fish meat and would end up consuming only little threads of fish. Silliness indeed!

Even when we weren't at home, my parents were prepared for my dislike. When we used to go to our local crab house, Land & Sea (which oddly gradually turned into a chinese restaurant...serving wonton soup alongside crabs?!), my mom would pack a hotdog for me and would slyly lift the tupperware to the table when no one was looking. Thanks mom!

More than a few years have passed since my days of "surgery" and sketchily eating hotdogs in restaurants. I'm proud to say my taste-buds have developed not just a tolerance to, but a desire for certain seafoods. I'm still a bit picky, but I generally live or rather eat by the motto of being daring.

I'm glad I've grown up relatively near the Chesapeake and get to enjoy crabs over the summers.