Great Crabcakes Start With the Best Lump Crabmeat and Don't Do a Lot to It. We tried Crabcakes at 21 Restaurants and Found a Winner

Crabcakes are the area's favorite Chesapeake Bay delicacy. They're found in neighborhood bars and expensive restaurants. They're served in lunchtime sandwiches and at elegant dinners. They vary in price from moderate - the day of cheap crabcakes is gone - to expensive.

Despite their popularity, there is no agreement about how crabcakes should be made. They vary in style from nuggets of jumbo lump crabmeat, almost invisibly bound together, to flakes of "regular" crabmeat, taken from the entire body, liberally mixed with bread crumbs.

Today's notion of what constitutes a great crabcake - nuggets of jumbo lump meat subtly bound and seasoned - bears little resemblance to traditional versions. Native Americans in this region certainly appreciated crab. John Shields, author of The Chesapeake Bay Cookbook and host of a public-television series on Chesapeake Bay cooking, cites reports in Captain John Smith's diary that local Indians mixed cooked crabmeat with a root vegetable of some kind, possibly something like the Heyman potato, and fried the cakes in bear fat. Shields says European settlers didn't eat much crab until around 1900; crab was so plentiful that it was held in low regard, eclipsed in popularity by oysters.

Even later in the 20th century, crabcakes were humble, home-cooked fare. Veteran Washingtonian dining critic Robert Shoffner observes that crabcakes originated as the meatloaf of crab dishes, a way to make a meal from whatever was available and cheap -in this case, crab and bread.

The elegant crab dish of the region was crab imperial. Early Maryland cookbooks, Shoffner notes, always specify lump crabmeat for crab imperial and just "regular crabmeat" for crabcakes. According to John Shields, that's still the case on Maryland's Eastern Shore - the crabcakes made for church suppers or fairs are made with a mix of backfin, claw, and body meat with a modest amount of breading. This is the crabcake that BreadLine owner Mark Furstenberg remembers from his boyhood in Baltimore in the 1950s.

The Garrison Grill, his neighborhood tavern, served crabcakes "comparatively bready but with serious amounts of crabmeat" between two saltines for 25 cents each.

Like most simple dishes, A successful crabcake depends the quality of the raw ingredients and the chef's skill. "The elements of the traditional Maryland crabcake are so few," says chef Ann Cashion of Cashion's Eat Place and Johnny's Half Shell, "that you have to focus carefully on each of them: crab, mayonnaise, bread (or cracker meal), and seasonings." Even though a dish composed of four ingredients might sound simple, almost every chef in town has a different idea of how to combine them to best advantage.

The one point of agreement is that it's necessary to start with the best available crabmeat and do as little to it as possible. "Crab is a sweet meat," says Art Carlson of C.F. Folks near DC's Dupont Circle, "so leave it alone." Jumbo lump crabmeat is the most expensive ingredient and the one generally preferred by upscale restaurants, which often mix in a percentage of backfin meat. All-backfin crabcakes can also be delicious - some cooks feel that backfin meat is sweeter and more flavorful - but backfin lacks the texture and visual appeal of gleaming white lumps.

The sad fact is that nowadays the crab in our most-loved regional delicacy is unlikely to be from the Chesapeake Bay. The supply of local crabmeat has dwindled, and most crabmeat you'll find at local restaurants com s from the Gulf of Mexico or as far away as Southeast Asia. Chef Brian McBride of Melrose in the Park Hyatt Hotel always buys his crabmeat from a distributor in Louisiana. Ann Cashion also likes Louisiana crabmeat but buys from several sources. (She avoids South American crabmeat-the lumps are large but too firm.) Art Carlson of C.F. Folks uses four or five vendors and starts "chasing the best crabmeat about April of each year." The first usually comes from Texas, then Louisiana, Alabama, Florida, then up the East Coast.

ANY CRABCAKE NEEDS SOMETHING to hold the crab together. The traditional binders are mayonnaise and bread crumbs. Egg or egg yolks sometimes are substituted for, or added to, the mayonnaise. Art Carlson uses egg at the beginning and end of the season when the crabmeat is sweeter but might substitute mayonnaise in June or July if he feels the crabmeat is a little gamy. (At these times, he says, adding a touch of vanilla extract helps emphasize the natural sweetness of the crab.) Most chefs specify homemade mayonnaise. Ann Cashion has developed a special mayonnaise used only for crabcakes.

The addition of bread to crabcakes - how much and what kind - is one of the most controversial points of crabcake construction. The worst criticism of a crabcake is that it is "too bready," and the general feeling is the less bread the better. But Cashion says one of the lessons she learned in experimenting with crabcakes is that "too little filler is as grave an error as too much. You have to hit the right balance between enough filler to give lightness and structure to the lumps without being aware of it." It's a delicate balance.

Brian McBride uses Pepperidge Farm bread in the ratio of one-sixth cup of crumbs to one pound of crab. "We've tried everything from croissant crumbs to crackers," says Carlson, "but plain old American white bread is the best." Todd Gray at Equinox uses finely chopped brioche as a binder, and the crabcakes at the Prime Rib are bound with Keebler Club crackers-in both cases the slight sweetness enhances the natural sweetness of the crab. Chef Bob Kinkead, at the opposite extreme, uses no bread in his crabcake, just bread crumbs on the exterior. The crabcakes must be well chilled before cooking to hold together, but the result is a deliciously creamy interior in nice contrast to the crisp, brown crust.

Seasoning is another issue.It's generally felt that it should be minimal, pointing up but never disguising the sweetness of the crab. Parsley and Worcestershire sauce are customary, as is a little mustard. "As much as I've tried to change things," says Kinkead, "mustard and corn are perfect flavor matches with crab." Many chefs use onion or scallions, and some include finely diced red or yellow bell peppers.

Furstenberg does not serve crabcakes at his BreadLine restaurant, but when he makes them at home he uses scallions, red onion, red pepper, and a tiny amount of garlic. Others are crabcake purists: "Onion and bell pepper add nothing to crab," insists Carlson. "Leave it alone." Capers are an occasional addition to new-style crabcakes -they are used at both DC Coast and Equinox.

Cashion feels that Old Bay Seasoning, now made by McCormick, is almost part of the definition of the Maryland-style crabcake. Originally formulated in 1939 by a German immigrant to Baltimore, Old Bay is a mixture of celery seed, bay leaves, mustard, red pepper, ginger, and more than a dozen other herbs and spices. Old Bay is used in large quantities on steamed crabs, but in crabcakes it must be used sparingly or, according to many chefs, not at all. Todd Gray has experimented with the formula and has come up with what he calls a "New Bay" mixture of spices for his crabcakes. Others, including Brian McBride and Jeff Shively of Sea Catch in Georgetown, prefer to add a touch of heat with a few drops of Tabasco or a sprinkling of cayenne.

The final issue is how crabcakes are cooked. Pan-frying in butter or clarified butter is traditional. Cashion feels that the structure of a proper crabcake is best demonstrated when it is either deep-fried or pan-fried, and she gives her customers the choice. Carlson and Kinkead, who bread the exteriors of their crabcakes to give them a crisp crust, feel that deep-frying is necessary to cook them all the way around. Broiled crabcakes are a relatively recent innovation, perhaps popular because they're felt to be healthier. "Broiled crabcakes are an abomination," insists Furstenberg, who pan-fries his in the Baltimore manner.

A month of eating crabcakes for Washingtonian was not a hardship assignment - with the possible exception of the day I ate six. I found crabcakes in many different styles but only a couple of really bad ones. It's hard to go wrong if you start with good crabmeat. I have opinions - that's my job - but most chefs in these parts respect the product. The main flaws I found were in cooking: overcooking, undercooking, just plain inattentiveness. I ate crabcakes from 21 restaurants and four takeout places. Prices, unless otherwise indicated, are for a dinner entrée typically consisting of two crabcakes.

These reviews are concentrated in downtown DC and the inner suburbs. I'd love to expand this search and hear from crabcake lovers who have favorites further afield, in Annapolis, Baltimore, or the Eastern Shore. Please let me know about your favorites by e-mail at thead@washingtonian.com.

THE VERY BEST

Melrose (Park Hyatt Hotel, 24th and M Sts., NW; 202-955-3899). Chef Brian McBride's crabcakes are, he reports, the bestseller on his menu year in and year out. The preparation is simple-premium jumbo lump crab, bound with egg yolk and white bread crumbs, seasoned with Dijon mustard, parsley, Worcestershire sauce, a drop of Tabasco, and salt and pepper. They're panfried and served with remoulade sauce. "If they fall apart," McBride says, "fine." They also may be the most expensive in town - $34 for a dinner entrée - but McBride says that reflects the price of crab.

NOT FAR BEHIND

Bistro (Washington Monarch Hotel, 2401 M St., ATW; 202-457-5020). Very good, almost all top-quality lump crabmeat and very little else they might even be faulted for being a bit underseasoned. $23.

C.F Folks (1225 19th St., AN; 202-293-0162; open Monday through Friday for lunch only). Owner Art Carlson says the secret is to take good crabmeat and resist the temptation to do much to it. Deep-fried and creamy, they're generally served Wednesday through Friday in the form of a crabcake sandwich, but they are best appreciated by ignoring the bun. Sandwich: $9.95 to $10.65.

Johnny's Half Shell (2002 P St., NW; 202-296-2021). Owner and chef Ann Cashion says working out the proportions and seasoning for this crabcake has been one of her most satisfying culinary voyages. These crabcakes consist of enormous lumps of crabmeat with a bit more binder than many, mustard dominates the seasoning. They're offered deep-fried or broiled. $22.95.

Kinkead's (2000 Pennsylvania Ave., NW; 202-296-7700). Chef Bob Kinkead's crabcakes are creamy in texture-no bread at all-and pan-fried to a wonderfully brittle crispness. They're accompanied by a grainy mustard mayonnaise and, in the appetizer portion, by a lovely salad of corn and peppers. Dinner appetizer: $17.

The Prime Rib (2020 K St., AIW; 202466-8811). Like its crab imperial, possibly the finest local rendition of this regional classic, the Prime Rib's crabcakes are near perfection-all lump crabmeat subtly seasoned and perfectly cooked. These cakes are broiled, one of the rare instances when I didn't wish they were pan-fried. $28.

Sam & Harry's (1200 l9th St., NW; 202296-4333). An appetizer portion consists of two small crabcakes, moist and perfectly cooked. The lump crabmeat is mixed with red and yellow peppers and capers, which highlight the sweetness of the crab. $24.95.

Sea Catch (1054 31st St., NW; 202-3378855). The quality of chef Jeff Shively's crabcake manages to shine through the restaurant's occasionally negligent service. The lump crabmeat is combined with mayonnaise, egg, and fresh bread crumbs; seasoned with Dijon mustard, Old Bay, cayenne, and Worcestershire sauce; and pan-fried in clarified butter. $25.

WINNING IMPROVISATIONS

DC Coast (1401 K St., NW; 202-2165988). Chef Jeff Tunks's crabcake shows influences from his days in New Orleans. Jumbo lump crabmeat is combined with mayonnaise, egg, fresh lemon juice, chives, cayenne, salt, and brioche crumbs. It's pan fried in olive oil, finished in the oven, and served with spring-onion remoulade and a very good pickled corn-okra relish. $25.95.

Equinox (818 Connecticut Ave., NW; 202331-8118). Todd Gray binds lump crabmeat with mayonnaise and very finely cubed brioche; seasons it with capers, mustard, cayenne, and his own "New Bay" seasoning; then pan-fries it in clarified butter. The result is more highly spiced than many crabcakes, but the combination of seasonings highlights rather than disguises the sweet crab. Lunch entree: $24.

The Grill (Ritz-Carlton Hotel, 1150 22nd St., Nw; 202-835-0500). Along with a more traditional Maryland-style crabcake, chef Emery Santo makes a Califomia-style avocado crabcake. The creaminess of the avocado works beautifully with the sweet crabmeat and eliminates the need for mayonnaise as a binder. Dinner appetizer: $15.

CLASSICS

Crisfield (8012 Georgia Ave., Silver Spring; 301-589-1306). The original Crisfield should be preserved as a local treasure. The crabcake at this no-nonsense Maryland-style seafood house is the old fashioned kind-regular rather than lump crabmeat, fairly highly seasoned, and deepfried. These are crabcakes best enjoyed with a beer, but the short wine list is very fairly priced. $17.50.

Clyde's (3236 M St., NW; 202-3339180). One of the real crabcake bargains is Clyde's crabcake sandwich, offered on the bar menu from 4 to 7 Pm for $6. This is a deep-fried backfin crabcake - there's a pricier lump crabcake on the dinner menu - but it's very tasty and well cooked. As with most crabcake sandwiches, it's best to discard the bun and eat the crabcake on its own.

GOOD CRAB, CARELESS COOKING

Bobby Van's (809 15th St., NW; 202-5890060). Good crab, nice seasoning, minimum binder, but badly overcooked. $24.95.

Legal Sea Foods (2020 K St., NW, 202496-1111). The ratio of binder to crab is a bit higher than optimal, but the main flaw was that the binder was undercooked and sticky. The mustard sauce is distracting. $26.

Morton's of Chicago (1050 Connecticut Ave., NW; 202-955-5997). Good raw ingredients hurt by sloppy cooking, Pan-fried and neglected, this crabcake was almost charred on one side and dry in the middle. $28.95.

Oceanaire Seafood Room (1201 F St., AIW; 202-347-2277). Good crabmeat, lightly bound and seasoned with mustard, parsley, Worcestershire sauce, Old Bay, and lemon, but the cakes were formed too thick, and oven cooking left their interior undercooked and gooey. $25.95.

The Palm (1225 19th St., NW; 202-2939091). The crabmeat and seasonings were first-rate, but the crabcake had been cooked too long under the broiler. The overbrown exterior overshadowed the taste of the crab, and the whole thing was dry. $28.50.

THE REST

Butterfield 9 (600 14th St., NW; 202289-8810). 1 gave this one two chances. The first time, good crabmeat was ruined with garlic, which tasted raw and overpowered the crab. The second time, the garlic was under control, but the crabmeat didn't taste fresh. $24.

Georgetown Seafood Grill (1200 19th St., NW; 202-530-4430). Big, beautiful lumps of crabmeat with absolutely no taste. Eerie. $24.95.

McCormick & Schmick's (1652 K St., NW; 202-861-2233). It's a treat to see Mel Krupin, back from retirement, greeting patrons at lunchtime, but don't order the crabcakes. They're very bready and hardly taste of crab. $24.95.

---Thomas Head, the magazine's food and wine editor, grew up eating Louisiana crabs and prefers Zatarain's Crab Boil to Old Bay.