The weck was a bit soggy, but the all-important crystal salt and caraway seeds were intact. The roll itself had slightly more substance and chewiness than a kaiser roll, with a slightly denser crumb:

The beef itself was a far cry from whatever it was the Road Food folks were serenading – slightly-thick-ish slices of well done beef. It was definitely roasted and not some commercial pre-made stuff, but still it was a tad dry, and very lean. I’m guessing it was top round:

Anyway the meat had decent beefy, roasty flavor, but no real discernible seasoning. That is apparently the weck’s job, and I gotta say, though the roll would be way too salty on its own, combined with the bland beef it was a pretty winning combo. The caraway added a bit to flavor of course, but the salt was really the star – it’s a clear, crystal salt that has a very clean flavor and a texture that’s somewhere between crispy, crunchy and sorta icy. Very enjoyable. It seems some believe the salt on Schwabl’s weck is sea salt, but I couldn’t find any conclusive answers.

The only problem was on my particular bun, the salt was unevenly distributed, which resulted in some too salty and some bland bites. I’m hoping this was anomalous. Also, and I don’t know if this is a regional thing or an intentional consideration (re the salt on the weck), but the sandiwch had very evenly stacked meat, i.e. was not mounded - something that I really appreciate.

-Henry Hong

I use a modified version of the popular and widely cited “Senator Mikulski Recipe”, which in turn closely resembles the recipe printed on Old Bay Seasoning cans. Oddly, there used to be an original, slightly different Mikulski recipe, published in the “Maryland Way” cookbook, but I can’t seem to locate it. They all share the most common seasoning component: mustard. I’ve found Dijon adds unnecessary complexity, and dry mustard lacks the balancing acid component of prepared yellow, which I prefer.

My recipe yields a pretty loose mixture that’s a bit difficult to work with, so I’ve developed some extra steps designed to bolster cake structural integrity. I highly recommend frying over broiling, since broiling seems to lead to dryer, blander crab cakes at home. Depending on the output of your stove, you may need to adjust burner strength or broiler distance, so note any deficiencies and adjust accordingly the next time.

The full, super-long crab cake article

1 lb. jumbo lump crab meat (domestic > imported)

1 tsp. yellow mustard

1 egg

1 ½ slices Wonder bread (or any soft commercial white bread)

2 tbs. mayonnaise (use light or fat free at your own peril)

2 tsp. Old Bay

1 small dash Worcestershire sauce

A little milk

Optional: a little ground white pepper, no more than 1 tsp. chopped parsley*

1. Open and invert the container of meat onto a cutting board and tap firmly, releasing the meat. This minimizes potentially harmful handling. You’ll be left with a container-shaped mound of meat, a la canned cranberry sauce.

2. Very gently separate the meat, making every effort to keep lumps and lump clusters intact, and look for shell pieces (discard). Each individual lump need not be separated, just do a cursory inspection.

3. Gently transfer meat to a large mixing bowl. Using a knife, scrape any residual meat and liquid into the bowl as well. Sprinkle ½ of the Old Bay onto the meat and fold, using your hand to scoop from the bottom of the bowl and lifting, gently mixing in a vertical motion t(fig. 1).

4. Tear or cut bread, including crusts, into small pieces, about 1” square. In a small bowl, combine bread with enough milk to soak.

5. In yet another bowl, thoroughly mix the egg, mustard, mayonnaise, Worcestershire, remaining Old Bay, white pepper and parsley.

6. Squeeze excess milk from bread pieces and add them to egg mixture. Taste for seasoning, add salt or Old Bay as necessary. A little raw egg won’t kill you, but if you must, nuke a small bit for 30 seconds, then taste.

7. Pour the mixture over the crab meat, and fold to incorporate. Try to be thorough, but be extra careful not to break up the lumps. Go slow.

8. If the crab cake mixture is very pretty loose, cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for about 20 minutes to tighten it up.

a) To fry, carefully shape into 4 flat cakes (I’ve found the shape and size should correspond closely to that of a White Castle slider, if that helps). If they aren’t keeping their shape well, place the cakes in pairs on a piece of plastic wrap (fig. 2), then wrap securely. Go to step 9.

b) If broiling, then shape into 4 cakes, place on a plate, and cover, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. Go to step 12.

9. Refrigerate for at least another half hour, turning them over once halfway through. This helps flatten both sides of the cakes.

10. Heat a nonstick or well-seasoned cast iron pan (doesn’t seem to make a difference) to medium-low, and add either butter or a neutral-flavored oil like canola or safflower. Do not use olive oil. Unwrap the cakes and slide them into the pan, two at a time (a crowded pan makes flipping more difficult).

11. Fry uncovered until a brown crust has formed, then carefully and slowly flip (leaving them uncovered helps the cakes to self-heal if damaged during flipping). If the cakes break, gather them back together and knock on wood. When the second side is browned sufficiently, remove to a plate. End.

12. To broil, carefully transfer the cakes to an oven-safe pan or baking sheet, and place on oven rack fitted to the highest rung (i.e. closest to top). Keep the oven door open and broil until browned, turning the cakes to allow for even cooking. If you have an oven-safe pan, you can lightly fry the cakes (just the bottoms) before broiling them, thus achieving more complete browning. Endif.

* I recommend using curly instead of the more intensely flavored flat-leaf. It’s hard to use an entire bunch of parsley before it goes bad, so try the following:

Curly parsley is generally grit-free, but if you get a dirty bunch, rinse under running water. Remove as much stem as possible from the parsley by either cutting with a knife or pulling the tops off by hand.

Chop the leaves finely. Place in the center of a clean kitchen towel, then grasp the corners and gather the parsley into a ball. Twist the ends of the towel so the bal gets tighter and tighter, and eventually you will squeeze water out of the parsley. When you’ve squeezed the parsley relatively dry, fluff it up a bit and place in a lidded container. It’ll keep a whole lot longer this way.