Crabby Dance

In my family, eating is a way of life. I suppose you could say it's a literal way of life for all families, but that would mean I'd have to come up with another first line. Anyway, my cousin S always told (I erased "joked"; this was not the intent of her phrase) of her "training" before Thanksgiving, which entailed eating as much as possible at every meal for the week prior to stretch out the stomach and allow for maximum consumption during the event. She's a doctor now, so I believe the truth in this statement. She is a wise one, that S. Of course, she learned from the best, dear ol' (left the "d" off for ya) Uncle Jerk, who never fails to be the last one to leave the table, and usually only after picking up each serving dish to polish off whatever is left inside. If you aren't careful, he'll eat right off your plate. My Aunt and Godmother J calls ahead to every gathering to scope out the dessert selection and ensure that enough chocolate is on the menu. Cousin K always, always brings the most delicious cookies, cakes, candies, and other sweets, although as a nurse with two young children we don't know how she finds the time. Two years ago we staged a green bean casserole cook-off, complete with judging rounds and a control group who just feasted indiscriminately on both.

Though I'm teasing, I love my family. Honestly, they're the best, and we're lucky to have each other. So because of all this food-focus it seems only natural that I am consumed by (the irony!) food, obsessively collecting recipes, devouring food network shows, pouring over cookbooks, drooling at the fridge on an hourly basis. But I come from simple roots. Here's a recipe (I say the word lightly; it's the easiest one in the genre, unless you consider "open can" a recipe in itself) for our family favorite dip, Crab Dip. There are two things you should know, though.

1. It is MANDATORY at all family gatherings, particularly those featuring younger Sissy or quirky, lovable Aunt J
2. One does not get cute with crackers. It's Triscuits only. I'll tell you the story of how Sissy reacted when Wheat Thins were the only vehicle available to convince you of this fact.
3. (Bonus fact) It's almost too easy to be a recipe. My favorite kind.

Crabby Dip
1 8oz brick cream cheese (not fat free)
1 8oz can lump crabmeat, drained, picked over for shells
1 bottle cocktail/seafood sauce (amped up with horseradish, if you dare. We always dare)
Triscuits

Spread the cream cheese on a plate, spread the top with crab meat, pour horseradishy cocktail sauce over the top. Stick a knife in 'er and spread heaping knife-fulls haphazardly on Triscuits. Spill some on your shirt, be too busy chewing to care, repeat.

Yummmmmmmmmmmy.

Now, this might be in the 1950's genre of cooking, which food snobs today probably scoff at. But I'm no snob - that last sentence ending in a preposition should tell you that - especially when it comes to food. Though I'm stretching and refining my weak culinary muscles, I like food to be simple, to be cooked to enhance its essence, not to hide, mask, cover, etc. it. Likewise, I have very little patience for 10 step recipes that call for any number of advanced techniques only to render an end result unrecognizable as any of its original components. Maybe this is why I loathe pureed soup? I can taste you, ingredients, but I can't find you.....

Did I mention that my Sissy's nickname is crab? She'd want you all to know.