The spicy crab meat soup yesterday was an oval red in a white ceramic bowl with a blue border.
When I was 9, I ate crab and my lips swelled up like a big balloon.
When I was 24, I ate crab again and didn’t care because its meat brought the sea to my mouth and I grew more and more carnivorous with every piece of shell I cracked.
When I slide my index under its shelly stomach, the meat yields and polishes my fingernail, like cutex.
There’s Mangalore Pearl and Carnival De Goa and Fishland. I also have a Souza Lobo on my crab list now.
In Souza Lobo, they gave me a black pot with the biggest crab I had ever seen. It took me an hour to finish it.
I am all hands, fingers, mouth, hair, and cheeks when I eat crab. Sometimes, I think crab is flavorless, lost now and then in overpowering enthralls of coconut, spices, and garlic butter.
But I eat it anyway. Hands, fingers, mouth, hair, and cheeks.