Artichoke-Topped Crab Bites

Hurricane season. The Gulf is watched. Anatomy lab three days this week. The cadaver work is what they say it is. I am holding up.

Drove to Baker Saturday morning. MawMaw Shirley was at the stove already. We made gumbo. Thirty-five minutes of roux. The lesson keeps unfolding.

Fried catfish Friday. Cornmeal coated. Cast iron. Hot grease.

Bedtime at ten. The next clinic day at seven. The rhythm.

Daddy called Sunday afternoon. He is sixty-something and his knees are still bad and he still has not gotten the second one replaced. I am working on him. He is working on me to stop working on him. We are at an impasse. The impasse is the love.

Tanya's tomatoes were in this week. She brought a sack. I made a sandwich for lunch every day for four days. Heirloom tomato, white bread, mayo, salt. The summer lunch. The simplest pleasure of summer.

Driving past the Scotlandville house Sunday afternoon, the one Daddy rebuilt after the flood. The house is solid. The house is the house. I see the watermark from the flood every time I look at the foundation. We do not paint over it. We let it tell the story.

I sent MawMaw a photo of my gumbo Tuesday. She replied, "too light, baby, keep stirring." She has not changed the critique in twelve years. The critique is the love.

DeAndre's birthday came around again. I made his favorite — andouille and chicken in brown gravy. I ate two bowls. I called Aunt Renee. We did not say much. We did not need to. The food was the saying.

Tanya brought a casserole over Wednesday. The Tanya casserole. Half went into the freezer. The other half fed me Wednesday and Thursday. Mama's casseroles are the silent backup of my entire adult life.

Sunday service at Bethany. The choir sang. The pastor preached on Hannah and Samuel. I sat with Tanya and Marcus. The hymn at the end was the one Mama used to hum. I cried into the bulletin. Standard.

I sat on the porch Saturday afternoon with iced tea. The neighbor's kids were playing kickball. The Louisiana evening is its own kind of Sabbath. The cicadas were starting up. The light was the gold-going-blue light of the southern dusk.

Reading something light at night. A novel by a Louisiana writer. The voice was familiar. The voice was home. The book ended on a small kindness. I appreciated that.

I went to the gym Tuesday and Thursday this week. Twenty minutes on the treadmill. Standard. The body is the only equipment I have for the rest of my life and I am trying to maintain it.

Crawfish boil at a friend's place Saturday. Twenty-five pounds. The shells filled three trash bags. Standard Louisiana spring. We sat at the picnic table for four hours. The corn was the best of the boil. The corn always is.

Friday night Darius and I watched a movie I have already forgotten. We fell asleep on the couch by ten. The dog (we got a dog last year, did I mention) slept between us. Standard.

MawMaw Shirley's recipe cards in the wooden box on the kitchen counter. I copied another one Saturday morning at her kitchen table. The collection is growing. She watched me copy. She corrected my Cs. She has always corrected my Cs.

The apartment kitchen is small but it cooks. Two burners. One pot. A cutting board balanced on the counter because the counter is too small for both the cutting board and the toaster.

I texted Kayla about her latest design portfolio Tuesday. She is good. She has Tanya's directness and Daddy's eye for proportion. The design field will know her name eventually.

Fried catfish Friday is the anchor — cornmeal, cast iron, hot grease, no argument. But on the weeks when the cadaver lab runs long and MawMaw’s critique is still ringing in my ear and the apartment kitchen is the size of a generous thought, I want something that still tastes like the Gulf without asking everything of me. These artichoke-topped crab bites are that. Fifteen minutes of real work, something warm and coastal coming out of the oven, and the feeling — just for a moment — that the water is close.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 24 bites

Ingredients

8 oz lump crab meat, drained and picked over for shells
1 can (14 oz) artichoke hearts, drained and finely chopped
4 oz cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 green onions, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon hot sauce
Salt and black pepper to taste
24 round crackers or toasted baguette rounds

Instructions

Preheat. Heat oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
Make the base. In a medium bowl, stir together the softened cream cheese, mayonnaise, Parmesan, minced garlic, lemon juice, and hot sauce until smooth and well combined.
Fold in the good stuff. Gently fold in the crab meat, chopped artichoke hearts, and sliced green onions. Season with salt and black pepper to taste — go easy; the crab carries its own salt.
Assemble. Arrange crackers or baguette rounds in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Spoon a heaping teaspoon of the crab mixture onto each round, pressing lightly so it holds.
Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the topping is set and lightly golden at the edges and the filling is heated through.
Rest and serve. Let cool on the pan for 2 minutes before serving warm. They hold for about 20 minutes if you’re not ready to sit down yet — the kitchen will smell like the coast the whole time.

Nutrition (per serving, 2 bites)

Artichoke-Topped Crab Bites — The Gulf Is Never Far When You Know How to Cook