Crabs cross the saltwater-freshwater divide. Between them, the thousands of known species make up a fifth of all crustaceans harvested around the world, whether from capture or aquaculture – about 1.5 million tonnes. Some crabs are so small as to be barely visible: they generally hold little interest as human food, though the pea crab (Pinotheres pisum), a tiny oyster parasite, is considered a delicacy in some quarters. At the opposite extreme, two tall men could fit between the splayed legs of the Japanese spider crab (Macrocheira kaempferi).
Along that spectrum we find the five or so main commercial species. At the largest, rarest and costliest end sits the spiny red king crab (also known as Alaskan king or Kamchatka), from the frigid waters of the Bering Sea. Then comes the smoother-shelled snow crab, more widely distributed around northern oceans; the smaller, white-purple Dungeness, present along North America’s Pacific shoreline; the stone crab, plump from munching on conch and other sea snails off Florida, which sheds and regenerates its claws at will: fishers will just tear off one claw and throw the animal back into the sea to regrow it; and the more economical rock crab, particularly present in the eastern Atlantic, from the Arctic to Mauritania.
Intriguingly, while the question of whether crabs feel pain is much the same as for lobster, crabs don’t trigger nearly the same amount of empathy. Could this be because, edibility aside, crabs carry representational associations with disease? In around 400 before our era, the man credited with laying the bases of medicine as we know it, Hippocrates, mysteriously chose to name cancer after the crab: karkinos in Greek. (Analogies between the pattern of malignant cells and the shape of crabs are likely a postfactum conceit.) In some modern languages, the two terms remain identical. And even as we scoff our crabs with abandon, we continue to saddle them with morbid projections – for example, in referring to their gills, unappetizing but harmless otherwise, as “dead man’s fingers”.
As we went to press, the war in Ukraine was reverberating through the world crab trade, with sanctions spurring a reconfiguration of the Russian Federation’s exports. The country holds nearly 95 percent of the global quota for red king and snow crab: in the previous year, it pulled in USD 2.4 billion in revenue. Much of the haul used to go frozen to the United States of America, the European Union and allies. There are now signs that more will go live to China instead.
Most crabs prefer cool (or even gelid) waters, and so tend to feature in the cuisines of cold or temperate lands. But their popularity has been spreading in warmer latitudes. In India, the mangrove-dwelling mud crab is no longer the preserve of coastal communities: it has been picked up by urban chefs. The Singaporean chilli crab, laced with a hot, eggy tomato sauce, seems poised for global fame. In Thailand, soft shell crab – harvested when the animal is moulting, before its exoskeleton firms up – is a classic, rolled in seasoned flour, then deep-fried and served with a spicy dip. A hop away in French-influenced Viet Nam, the dish may be accessorized with lettuce leaves to wrap the crab in, plus masses of fresh dill. Gills and guts aside (discard those), crab offers both white meat (from the claws) and brown (from the body). Which is better? Well, it rather depends: the debate mirrors the one about chicken breast vs chicken leg. We’d rather have both, frankly. And if you chance upon a female crab with roe, we suggest you also try that soft, friable matter. Much like the coral of scallops – often omitted in the belief that anything but the blandest stuff will scare away consumers – it delights as a textural and chromatic counterpoint.
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