Today I am going to Annapolis, driving deep into uncharted Mary-land to see what's up in what I've heard is a pretty cool place.
Under any, ANY, other circumstances, I would during this trip stop at various locations, taste-testing crab cakes, looking for the ultimate in near-DC crab cake perfection.
Too bad I found it already. That is to say, several weeks ago, and then again last night, I was the fortunate recipient, one of a Chosen Few, to enjoy crab cakes the likes of which my poor New England imagination could not quite grasp. They were just one dish of several -- but clearly the brazen highlight -- of the meal so graciously served to me aboard the U.S.S. Sequoia, the erstwhile Presidential yacht, by its President and owner, Gary Silversmith. And if the notion of a cruise aboard a floating, sailing Presidential historical landmark doesn't excite you as it does me (and it does!), these crab cakes should.
But allow me to be precise: there is nothing cake-y about these treats -- in fact, the restaurant from whence they come, Jerry's Seafood in Bowie, MD, calls them "crab bombs." The ingredients, if I'm not mistaken, are: Epic lumps of crab meat, butter, mayo and Old Bay seasoning. I could be wrong, but I'm not. The bombs fall to pieces as you take fork to them (it took a couple tries to get one that looked fully cohesive -- attempts that constituted real hardship, to be sure). The meat is almost creamy, so tender and smooth as to melt in your mouth, with the requisite and exceptional kick provided by the traditional Old Bay (or homegrown equivalent).
These are just TOO GOOD. It's as though the Patriots had won the Super Bowl in 2007 in addition to winning every other game that season -- I would have needed to just stop watching football, because, let's face it: nothing else could possibly compare.
Fortunately for my exploration of Mid-Atlantic cuisine, I have a stronger heart and a firmer will when it comes to crab cakes. We're going to MD. I'll try not to compare everything I eat to crab bombs -- I'll try.