Meet Crabby, the epitome of the word "crab." This huge fellow was stuck in a tank at the Dynasty Seafood Restaurant in Cupertino where we went for a dim sum lunch one Sunday while visiting family in San Jose.
He didn't look all that happy, and I pity the fool who has to fish him out of the tank if somebody orders crab with black bean sauce. Crabby measured a good three-feet from claw tip to claw tip (more than four of my hand-spans), and you should have seen the look he gave me as I placed my hand on the glass.
I didn't ask what kind of crab he was because the waiters and staff were all running around trying to service the overflow crowd. Plus, they were all speaking Chinese and the only Chinese words I know describe food that I've had. But I can tell he's not a spider crab, or a king crab, or a spiny crab, because I looked up pictures of them on Google.
But he's definitely a cold salt water crab. Heck, if I were that cold and salty and ugly, I'd be crabby too.
I kid you not.
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