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Cream of Crab Soup -- What the Freezer Couldn't Hold

Week one of lockdown. The house is full. All five of us, all day, every day. Danielle teaching from the kitchen table. Luc doing school on his laptop in his room. Colette at the dining table with her schoolwork and her sketchbook and her organizational system that has expanded to include a quarantine schedule. Rémy running laps around the house, inside, because outside is... what? Off-limits? Unclear? The rules change every day and nobody seems to know the rules, including the people making them.

I can't work. The apartment complex job is on hold. New construction stopped. Service calls are "emergency only," and I'm sending Marcus and Terri to handle those with gloves and masks and the surreal awareness that pulling wire has never before required personal protective equipment against a respiratory virus. The business income dropped to near zero overnight. Danielle's teaching continues — she gets paid, bless the public school system — but one income with seven employees (who I'm keeping on payroll as long as I can, because you don't abandon your crew, you don't cut the line when the water rises) is a math problem I'm trying to solve with gumbo.

I stress-cook. Every day. A new dish, a different dish, something to do with my hands that isn't scrolling the news and watching the numbers climb. Monday: gumbo. Tuesday: étouffée. Wednesday: jambalaya. Thursday: red beans. Friday: fried catfish. Saturday: a whole brisket, fourteen hours on the pit, because the pit doesn't know there's a pandemic and the smoke doesn't care and the ribs don't ask about infection rates. The cooking is the sanity. The cooking is the therapy. Dr. Tran and I do sessions by phone now, and she says, "You're coping by cooking," and I say, "I've been coping by cooking my whole life," and she says, "Yes. And it's working. Don't stop."

The freezer is full. Fuller than it's been since the deer season haul. I'm freezing gumbo, étouffée, jambalaya. If the supply chain breaks, if the stores go empty, we'll eat for months on what's in that freezer. This is Cajun preparedness: not guns and bunkers, but cast-iron pots and chest freezers and the knowledge that a dark roux and a bag of rice can feed a family for a week.

The gumbo and the étouffée were already in the freezer by Thursday, and I needed something new for my hands to do — something that felt like the Gulf Coast, something that reminded me that the world outside our walls was still there even when we couldn’t get to it. Crab soup does that for me. It’s rich and slow and it fills the house with a smell that says somebody here knows what they’re doing, which is exactly what I needed to tell myself that week. Dr. Tran said don’t stop cooking, so I didn’t stop.

Cream of Crab Soup

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 lb lump crab meat, picked over for shells
  • 4 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1 small yellow onion, finely diced
  • 2 stalks celery, finely diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
  • 2 cups whole milk
  • 2 cups heavy cream
  • 1 cup seafood stock (or clam juice)
  • 1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
  • 1/2 teaspoon white pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 2 tablespoons dry sherry (optional)
  • 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Saute the aromatics. Melt butter in a heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 to 7 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more.
  2. Build the roux. Sprinkle flour over the vegetables and stir constantly for 2 minutes until the raw flour smell cooks off and the mixture turns slightly golden.
  3. Add the liquids. Slowly whisk in the seafood stock, then the milk and heavy cream, adding each in a steady stream to prevent lumps. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat, stirring frequently.
  4. Season the base. Stir in Old Bay, white pepper, and salt. Let the soup simmer uncovered for 10 to 12 minutes, stirring often, until it thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon.
  5. Add the crab. Reduce heat to low and gently fold in the crab meat. If using sherry, stir it in now. Simmer for 5 minutes, just enough to warm the crab through without breaking it up too much.
  6. Taste and serve. Adjust salt and pepper as needed. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh parsley. Serve with crusty bread or oyster crackers.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 31g | Carbs: 12g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 680mg

Tommy Beaumont
About the cook who shared this
Tommy Beaumont
Week 182 of Tommy’s 30-year story · Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Tommy is a Cajun electrician from Thibodaux, Louisiana, who lost his home to Hurricane Katrina four months after his wedding and rebuilt his life one roux at a time. He grew up on Bayou Lafourche, fishing with his father Joey at dawn and eating his mother's gumbo by dusk. His crawfish boils draw the whole neighborhood, his boudin is made from scratch, and he stirs his roux the way Joey taught him — dark as chocolate, forty-five minutes, no shortcuts. Laissez les bons temps rouler.

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