I’m feeling crabby

What’s the point in eating crab? I went out for this crab dinner and all I got was this hollow feeling. Crab is proof that the ancient peoples on tropical islands had way too much time on their hands and not enough protein in their diets. A crab dinner is the only meal I can think of, except perhaps lobster, in which pliers and a hammer are required. Just getting to the edible part requires more work than I’m willing to invest. If I want to eviscerate my own dinner, I’d rather go after a nice steer. At least that way, I get steak.

But let’s say you’re willing to put in the work to crack the shell and break off the legs and ignore the beady black eyes staring accusingly into yours. What do you get? Crab meat is messy and very fishy-tasting. Hmm, how to make it taste better? I know, let’s dip it in warm butter! So much for the healthy qualities of seafood; you just added hundreds of unwanted calories and a googolplex of saturated fat grams to your meal. But at least there’s no need for a nice, artery-mucking cheesecake.

Let’s recap. Crab is a ridiculous amount of work for a paltry amount of food. You can’t tackle it without covering your clothes in crab debris. You get none of that satisfying, “I’ve just eaten the best meal of my life” feeling. Bugger crab. For my money, the only acceptable way to experience crab is to watch “Deadliest Catch” on the Discovery Channel.

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