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Maryland takes the cakes

To get your claws on a big taste of paradise, head to Chesapeake Bay.

By Janet K. Keeler, Times Food and Travel Editor
Published May 20, 2007

	Lunchtime visitors crowd Faidley's Seafood in the Lexington Market in Baltimore. Faidley's, established in 1886, ships its crab cakes world wide.
[Times photo: Scott Keeler]

ADVERTISEMENT [Times photo: Scott Keeler] Cook Loannis Kalavrezos shows off trys of crab cakes in the kitchen of G&M Restaurant and Lounge in Linthicum Heights. [Times photo: Scott Keeler] Martin Gardner, left, of Annapolis, Md., digs into a blue crab feast at Jimmy Cantler's Riverside Inn in Annapolis.

BALTIMORE

This palace of most excellent crab cakes doesn't look like much from the outside. The tip-off is a jam-packed parking lot.

The squat, brick building is more pauper than prince, and any busy crossroads in any working class American town could be its home. Any town, that is, where snow flurries fly in spring.

Our flight from Tampa touches down in time for lunch, and we come here straight away to taste what many say is the best crab cake in Maryland. We goof, though we don't know it at the time. This is our first stop on a crab cake hunt that will take us to historic Annapolis, across the Chesapeake Bay on that crazy erector set bridge and then back to Baltimore, the land of the Giant Mutant Crustacean Softball.

The jumbo lump crab cake at G&M Restaurant in Linthicum Heights, a quick cab ride from Baltimore-Washington International, nearly ruins us for the rest of the quest. When waitress June plops down plates of golden crab mountains, our eyes go wide. People stare from adjoining tables.

Hunks of crab as big as your pinky are held together with little more than dumb luck. It is sinful, really, digging into this giant pillow of creamy crab that tastes of seawater and a bit of mustard. Filler is undetectable, and a gently tingling kick must come from Maryland's homegrown spice mix, Old Bay.

Lordy, how many crabs died for my lunch? Is it possible to taste another crab cake so memorable?

Five days and 10 crab cakes later, we will have the answer.

The crab cake is Maryland's signature dish, much like the grouper sandwich is Florida's. Crab cakes are served everywhere and are especially popular at restaurants that ring Chesapeake Bay. It is there, facing the wide water or looking out on one of the rivers that flow into the bay, that you get a feel for what Baltimore journalist H.L. Mencken called "an immense protein factory."

For generations, city-weary residents have flocked to the edges of the bay for relief from the summer swelter. Boating and fishing are big draws on the Eastern Shore, as is seafood, especially blue crabs in summer. Plucked from the bay, they are boiled with Old Bay, then dumped by the bucketful on newspaper-draped picnic tables. A cold beer and a hammer is all that's needed to finish off dinner.

But blue crabs, once so plentiful in the bay, are in trouble. The eel grass that hides juvenile crabs from predators is disappearing and crab hauls are at historic, though steady, lows.

When we visited in the offseason, we likely did not have one cake made from Maryland crab. The shellfish probably came from the Carolinas, Louisiana or Florida, or even Asia. Funny, all that way, to have a crab cake stuffed with Florida crab.

They call them "Maryland-style crab cakes, " which is how they get around making them with crab from elsewhere. The trick is to use lots of crab and little binder. That's where some folks go wrong.

Annapolis is a beautiful town. The historic district, in the shadow of Maryland's domed statehouse, is a spiderweb of streets lined with Colonial-era buildings housing tony shops. There's a flurry of activity here year-round, with the Legislature and U.S. Naval Academy setting an official tone.

Boating is paramount in summer, and there are many places where tourists can watch the action. But we don't linger, even if the midshipmen are cute. We are on a mission.

We sample lousy crab cakes at Mike's Restaurant & Crab House on the South River. Dry and small, they are all about breading.

I worry. What if nothing compares? The next two restaurants give me hope.

Jimmy Cantler's Riverside Inn on the Severn River is packed at 2 p.m. on a chilly Sunday. Thankfully, though, the two-hour wait for a table is months away.

The crab cakes at Cantler's are the size of large navel oranges. There's plenty of crab taste, but the texture is smooth, indicating the mixture has been worked a bit more aggressively. But they are good, really good.

Faith restored, we move on to the Boatyard Bar & Grill, across Spa Creek from the historic district. Boatyard looks like it could have been plucked from Sanibel Island and dropped in the Northeast. Tropical colors, tin roof. They serve conch fritters, for heaven's sake.

The crab cakes are tasty here, too, but we're seeing a trend. Once away from the bright lights and gritty suburbs of Baltimore, the cakes are getting smaller.

Back at the Hampton Inn, I sprawl across the bed, slightly queasy. It's just Day 2. Will the search for the best crab cakes end with a stomachache?

A good night's sleep revives me. We forge ahead, today to the playgrounds of the Eastern Shore.

The lovely flatlands have their own rhythm, slow and steady. There are cornfields and shipyards and tourists in the summer. Talbot County, just over an hour's drive from Baltimore, is awash in historic inns and B&Bs.

Gnarled fingers of land bend into the bay, each studded with towns where watermen and innkeepers make a living. Many businesses are seasonal, like the Robert Morris Inn in Oxford, whose crab cakes are lauded in James Michener's Chesapeake.

We've got two nights at the swanky Inn at Perry Cabin on the Miles River in St. Michaels, founded in 1700. From our window we see the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum, which has some fine exhibits, including a lighthouse you can tour. It's fitting that the museum is here, since the townspeople depend on the water to put food on the table and pay the mortgage.

We're hungry, but it's the offseason and not much is open. Big Al's Market on the main drag looks like a good place to grab a sandwich, but when we go inside, crab cakes are on the overhead menu board. A well-read clipping from a 2002 Esquire tacked to the wall heralds Big Al's as one of "67 Places Worth a Detour."

The crab cakes are small, mustardy and cheap, more like velvety croquettes really. For under $5, they hit the spot. A dozen ice-cold, shucked oysters are $4.50 and served in a cardboard box.

A drive into nearby Easton that night lands us at Legal Spirits. It has serviceable crab cakes, but it is the cream of crab soup that really sends us into orbit.

Next door is the Avalon Theatre, built in 1921, where you can see the likes of Bo Diddley July 7 or a movie hosted by the Talbot Cinema Society. The heavily draped, dusty lobby is lined with photos of past performers, a kindly reminder of entertainment before the multiplex.

Bellies full, we wait for sunrise.

Past St. Michaels, toward the bay, we head to Tilghman Island and Harrison's Chesapeake House Country Inn. The crab cakes come recommended, but we are more interested in seeing the place that's been serving seafood since just after the Civil War.

The history is muted by the vast, plain dining room with wide windows to the water. An adjoining open-air bar looks like it sees some raucous nights when tourists are plentiful and watermen celebrate their catches.

The crab cakes here have more mustard than any others we tried. Good size and adequately crabby. The G&M behemoths are becoming a memory.

But dinner at the Crab Claw restaurant overlooking the river back in St. Michaels is a disappointment. The crab cakes are like hockey pucks. Enough said.

The last stop on the Eastern Shore is the Island Grill on Taylors Island, way down in Dorchester County. Proprietors Holli Anderson and Lisa Hubbard cater to deer hunters and locals most of the year, and tourists in summer. And they only make cakes then, when they can get crab from outside their door.

Who could quibble with those high standards? We eat burgers.

The G&M crab cake calls to us, but we resist the urge to return. There's another famous crab cake to be sampled, this one at Faidley's Seafood at Baltimore's historic Lexington Market.

Lexington was established in 1782 and claims to be the oldest continuously operating market in the country. It was refurbished in 2003 but remains rough around the edges. The parking garage has several levels of security to prove that point.

Lexington houses nearly 150 vendors selling produce, meats and baked goods. You want fried chicken? Take your pick from half a dozen stalls. Greek, Chinese, Italian food? Yes, yes, yes.

Faidley's has been part of the market for more than 100 years. It sells a wide variety of seafood; even raccoon and muskrat in season. There's a raw bar in the center where diners wash down oyster slurps with frosty beer.

But it's the jumbo lump crab cakes we're after, so we get in line. This gives us time to read the accolades that hang on boards above. At $13 each, we expect a lot. Especially since we have to eat them standing up at long communal counters.

The crab cakes are fantastic, standing, sitting or lying down. Slightly smaller than G&M's, but somehow more pillowy, if that's possible. Hunks of crab are interrupted with an occasional pocket of softly molded cracker. Not much mustard here, but a bit more heat than some.

I want to retire from the crab cake hunt while it's book-ended by excellence. But there is one more. And it's a doozy.

Koco's Pub in the Lauraville section of Baltimore is not a place you'd find on your own. It's a neighborhood joint and a short cab ride from the touristy Inner Harbor.

At 11 ounces and $23 (or market price), the crab cake at Koco's ought to be elected to somebody's food hall of fame. It's ridiculously huge, insanely good. We eat every bit and are happy, if just a little sorry later.

But we have our answer.

Yes, there were crab cakes as memorable as the first. We just had to keeping looking.

Janet K. Keeler can be reached at (727) 893-8586 or jkeeler@sptimes.com.

2 eggs

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

2 teaspoons lemon juice

2 teaspoons Old Bay seasoning

2 teaspoons dried parsley flakes

2 heaping tablespoons mayonnaise

1/2 teaspoon dry mustard

2 pounds jumbo lump crabmeat, picked over

4 slices white bread, crumbled

Vegetable oil, for frying

In a medium-sized bowl, thoroughly combine the eggs, Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, Old Bay, parsley, mayonnaise and mustard.

Place the crabmeat in a large bowl and gently fold in the bread crumbs and the egg mixture so as not to break up the lumps. Shape into 12 slightly flattened balls and chill for at least 1 hour.

To fry the crab cakes:

Pour oil into the skillet to a depth of about 1 1/2 inches. Heat the oil to 370 degrees and fry the crab cakes, a couple at a time, until golden brown, 4 to 5 minutes per side. Remove with a slotted spatula to paper towels to drain.

To broil:

Place crab cakes under a preheated broiler, turning to cook evenly, until nicely browned, 4 to 5 minutes per side.

Serve with soda crackers and tartar sauce.

Serves 6.

Source: Coastal Cooking With John Shields by John Shields (Broadway Books, 2004)

IF YOU GO

Crab cakes worth a detour:

- G&M Restaurant, 804 Hammonds Ferry Road, Linthicum Heights, Md.; (410) 636-1777 or www. gandmcrabcakes.com. Also sold through mail-order.

- Faidley's Seafood, Lexington Market, 203 N Paca St., Baltimore; (410) 727-4898 or www.faidleyscrabcakes. com. Also sold through mail- order.

- Koco's Pub, 4301 Harford Road, Baltimore; (410) 426-3519 or www.kocospub.com.

- Jimmy Cantler's Riverside Inn, 458 Forest Beach Road, Annapolis, Md.; (410) 757-1311 or www.cantlers.com.

- Legal Spirits, 42 E Dover St., Easton, Md.; (410) 820-0765 or www.shoreboys.com.

- Big Al's Market, 302 N Talbot St., St. Michaels, Md.; (410) 745-3151.

- Harrison's Chesapeake House, 21551 Chesapeake House Drive, Tilghman Island, Md.; (410) 886-2121 or www.chesapeake house.com.

- Island Grille; 514 Taylors Island Road, Taylors Island, Md.; (410) 228-9094. Open year-round but serves crab cakes only in the summer.

Also of interest

- The Inn at Perry Cabin, 308 Watkins Lane, St. Michaels, Md; toll-free 1-866-278-9601 or www.perrycabin.com. An Orient-Express hotel. Room rates from $275 a night.

- The Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum, Navy Point, St. Michaels, Md.; (410) 745-2916 or www.cbmm.org. Open year-round except Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's Day.

[Last modified May 18, 2007, 14:36:17]