
That's some late summer, late August, late evening (late, late, late) sunlight filtering through the trees, striping shadows across blades of thick green grass. I just love this time of year. I think it's because I can feel fall and winter nipping at my heels and I know I better look around me and soak up all the summery goodness and greenness before it all turns to red and gold, and then -- gasp! -- to white.
I live less than a mile from the state fairgrounds and the fair is currently in full swing (a harbinger of autumn around these parts if ever there was one) and as I took the grassy photo above, I was smiling at the faint yet sharp sounds of people on carnival rides screaming their hearts out, race cars gunning their engines, an exuberant announcer barking into a microphone...
Here's some more of that lovely light shining into my sloppy kitchen:

It's a kitchen I'll have to be cooking in for a while longer. The house we made an offer on two months ago and thought we would be moving into in two days? The deal is kaput. I called the whole thing off and I'm starting my search afresh. What a disappointing experience. Suffice it to say, I will no longer enter into any deals in which I attempt to purchase big-ticket items from young 20-something men. I've been burned twice now, once on a car near-purchase and now on this house near-purchase. The boys just do not have their shit together.
Tonight as I crossed my threshhold after work I decided I needed a great big dose of late-summer deliciousness. And that got me to thinking about a recent Saturday when I drove under a mountain and through the tunnel (the longest car/train/tourbus/pickup-pulling-a-boat tunnel in North America -- you drive right on the train tracks!) to Whittier for the first time ever. I've lived here for years but never bothered going to Whitter because everyone's always going on and on about what a dump it is. Wind-battered, isolated, desolate ex-military buildings...
Why even bother going , I always thought to myself. Why spend the money on tunnel fare? But a bunch of gals were headed that way to hike a short trail that ends with a perch overlooking a glacier and I thought, well maybe. Then someone mentioned the trail was lined with salmonberry bushes and that clinched it for me. I was off to Whittier.
On the hike, two out-of-towners scampered all over the misty, berry- and moss-carpeted hillsides exclaiming over and over again about how it was all "just like the Lord of the Rings!" and "Frodo would live right there!" Why go all the way to New Zealand? Just come to Whittier! Alas, I forgot my camera and so I have no photos to share.
Maybe it was because I had low expectations but I really loved Whittier, nestled between mountains and Prince WIlliam Sound. Everyone was there for fun, either hopping on or off a cruise ship or taking their own boat out to do some fishing. A party atmosphere, I tell you.
After a good hike -- with nary a salmonberry found, all those bushes were picked clean -- we wandered down into town to look for fish and chips. The little nook of a cafe we ended up at didn't have fish and chips but they did just about everything else. I had some splendidly good crab cakes made with Bering Sea king crab while sitting at a table on the cafe's waterside deck with Prince William Sound stretched out before me, fishermen a few feet away casting, casting, casting and catching, catching, catching silver salmon.
Rambunctious locals took over a nearby pavilion. While standing in line at the cafe counter, a tourist guy pointed towards the pavilion and asked me, "What's that going on over there, do you know?" I could tell he was thinking it was some sort of city-sponsored party that anyone could join.
"Looks like locals getting drunk and lighting big fires," I told him.
He gave me a disbelieving look and turned away. Well. You asked.
But then he asked the proprietor of the cafe the same question. The proprietor glanced outside, winced, and said, "Drunk locals."
I told you so.
The crabcakes were very small and very expensive (about $5 per small cake) and very good. They left me hungering for more. That's what led me to this recipe, Louisiana Deviled Crab Cakes.
I had high hopes that these would be just as good -- dare I say better? -- than the ones I had in Whittier.
And?
I was not disappointed.

Aren't those some pretty crabcakes?? They're crispy on the outside. Soft and tender on the inside with crab, panko crumbs, onion, green pepper, celery and green onions along with a whole lot of cayenne pepper. For dipping, I whipped up a small bowl of my favorite tartar sauce.
Next time I'm going to try making them with salmon instead of crab.
As a side I made some equally good sweet and sour cucumbers with fresh dill. From the sound of the ingredients, I was pretty sure they were going to be tasty but, oh my! Did they ever exceed my expectations. The flavor on them is just amazing. And if I haven't convinced you that you need to make some of these, just go on over to epicurious and read the reviews left by other people who have made them.

I cooked up four crabcakes and as I type, I've already eaten my two. My husband is working late tonight. I gotta tell you, it's all I can do to keep myself in this chair. What I really want to do is run upstairs and scarf down his share, then hide any trace of tasty crabcakes having been cooked tonight, and tuck the cucumbers into the fridge in a spot he's bound not to look -- behind the box of salad greens oughta do the trick. It would serve him right for avoiding leafy greens.
But I can share. Really I can. And I can learn from my mistakes: next time I'm going to double both recipes.
And I wonder: is tomorrow too soon for 'next time'?
Here's my version of the recipe for crab cakes. And farther down is the cucumbers recipe and my recipe for tartar sauce.
Louisiana Deviled Crab Cakes
Makes four crabcakes for two light main course servings
1/4 c finely chopped onion
1/4 c finely chopped green bell pepper
3 T finely chopped celery
3 T unsalted butter
1 large egg
1 T sour cream or mayo
1/2 t dry mustard
1/2 t worcestshire sauce
1/4 - 1/2 t cayenne, depending on how spicy you like things
1/2 t salt
3 T thinly sliced green onions
2/3 c panko bread crumbs
1/2 lb lump crabmeat, picked over
1 T vegetable oil
Garnish with tartar sauce and lemon wedges
Cook onion, bell pepper, and celery in 1 tablespoon butter in a large skillet over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until vegetable are soft, about 8 minutes.
In a large bowl, whisk together egg, sour cream, mustard, worcestshire, cayenne, and salt then stir in green onions, cooked vegetables, and 1/4 cup of panko crumbs. Gently stir in crabmeat, then form misture into 4 patties. Dredge cakes in panko crumbs. Refrigerate for at least 15 minutes so that cakes will hold together while cooking.
Heat oil and remaining 2 tablespoons of butter in the same skillet over medium heat until foam subsides. Press cakes in additional panko crumbs if desired. Cook for 8 minutes total, turning once, until golden brown.

Sweet and Sour Cucumbers with Fresh Dill
4 servings
1 English cucumber, unpeeled, thinly sliced
1 t coarse kosher salt
1/4 cup distilled white vinegar
2 T finely chopped fresh dill
1 1/2 T sugar
1/2 pepper
Place cucumber slices in a colander and sprinkle with salt. Toss to coat and let stand for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Meanwhile, prepare dressing: in a large bowl, stir together vinegar, dill, sugar, and pepper until sugar dissolves.
Drain cucumbers well by pressing between paper towels. Add cucumbers to dressing and stir to blend. Refrigerate at least 15 minutes and up to two hours. Serve cold. These are nice and crisp the first few hours after you make them. After that they soften a bit and become more like bread and butter pickles. I can't decide which way I like them better: crisp or soft.
Tartar Sauce
1/2 c mayonnaise or miracle whip
1 T sweet relish or chopped sweet pickle
1 t minced onion
1 T minced fresh dill
1 t minced fresh parsley
1 t cider vinegar
1/2 t sugar
A dash or two of Tobasco
In a small bowl, combine all ingredients and stir until smooth.