Crab Feed 2010

While living in Switzerland, it was often difficult to hear about all of the parties and get togethers I was missing back at home. One of the weekends I was most disappointed to miss was the 2008 Young Farmer’s Annual Crab Feed in the Salinas Valley. My best girl friends could not stop talking about the crazy weekend they had had and hearing the girls describe the hot mess that ensued (throwing bottles/cans of sofia champagne, breaking into a neighbor’s house and passing out before the party really started) I knew I had to experience it for myself. So two weekends ago, I packed an overnight bag and drove the 2 hours south to “It’s happening in” and “Feel the Momentum of” Soledad, CA, population 28,000.

After a quick shower and a tour of Anj’s closet (I brought the jeans and wife beater, she supplied the rest - cowboy boots, sweater, necklace, etc) we grabbed our road sodas and headed to the party…First impression, this was going to be a good night. Located in the Greenfield High School gymnasium, the place was filled with long tables with red checkered tablecloths, a country style band, two bars and lots of cowboy hats.

We headed straight to an empty table (okay, maybe not straight, there was a quick detour to the bar), I threw on the plastic bib, cleared my plate of the fillers (pasta, salad and bread) and got down to business. Less than 15 minutes later and I was asking the waiters for more crab and making a proper mess of myself. And like Christmas Eve, where I notoriously end the evening alone at the table with the remaining bowls of crab, I stopped the binge only because I was the last one eating out of 200+ people and our table was the only one not yet cleared for the upcoming band and dancing. To avoid embarrassment, I threw in the towel and stopped before even hitting my stride (my fingers hadn’t even started pruning yet from the crab juices and I had only filled one plate with empty shells).

With dinner completed, the band started up and the hoe-down began. And it was a proper hoe-down at that: with a rock cover band, whiskey and beer, country dancing and a bar room brawl. The rest of the evening was spent dancing, catching up with old friends (surprisingly I knew a handful of the farmers from college) and drinking one too many whiskeys. And while no laws were broken this year (at least not by our crowd) I would still consider the evening a success and am looking forward to next year!

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