A thousand words...and not a drop to drink?

I hate to carry a camera and look like a tourist. I also hate to interrupt whatever it is that I'm experiencing by trying to capture it on film. So what that means is that when I'm parking on Paca (and the lovely Baltimorean flags me down to have me repark my car because the way that I've parked will get me a ticket (and give her free parking)!), I leave my camera in the car. Which is all fine and good until three months later when I want to tell you about Faidley's and would like to add an extra thousand or so words to whatever I'll spill here. And there's nary a lump to be found.

But that's fine. You don't need one. I'll just tell you what I think. Faidley's is fantastic. Now, you natives of the Chesapeake watershed, you may not agree with me. But I come from the (actually I don't know what it would be called in Canada, so I'll just go with the Yankee term) Midwest, and we don't really do crabcakes, or shouldn't, anyway. I've had the misfortune only twice in my life to bite into what I am forced to use air quotes to describe as crabcakes, and suffice it to say they are not something I need ever eat again.

But a crabcake from FAIDLEY'S...now that's another can of worms entirely. For those of you as ignorant as I was, let me assure you that what you want to order is a Jumbo Lump Crab Cake. There are other options, and they may well be delicious. I don't know, nor do I have any pressing need to learn. (There are also other eateries at Lexington Market. You can go there. I won't sulk. Just don't pass Faidley's by.)

And for the record, my very first raw oyster was eaten during this latest (though so far away now) trip to the market. It was fine, and certainly exhilarating, and I was lectured but good about how to eat it by a couple that makes a trip down to eat raw seafood at least once a week, but bof. I've got crabcakes on my mind.

Until next time...










(My lord! Whatever might those be?!?!)