Most of the folks I know back East would be horrified by the crab salad that appears in today’s food section and on our website (in video).
For four reasons.
1. It is made from packaged crab (much of which is imported from Vietnam and Thailand these days), not locally caught crab. (Mea culpa, I say, but how am I supposed to find a locally caught crab in Denver?)
2. It is served on a slice of tomato, not in a griddled hot dog roll. (Not to say I don’t love a griddled hot dog roll, but even a dining critic has to watch the carbs sometimes.)
3. It uses celery seed, not celery salt. (I made the switch, because celery salt is really ground celery seed mixed with salt, and I think celery seed has more pungency, plus I get more control over the salt in the recipe.)
4. (the most egregious offense): It is made with mayonnaise, not melted butter.
On this point, I have no real defense, because crab salad made with melted butter is absolutely delicious. Crab and butter go together like bread and butter. Or lobster and butter. Or popcorn and butter.
Or, frankly, anything at all and butter.
But those back-Easters wouldn’t just say the butterless crab salad is no good, they’d say it’s inauthentic.
So, they can sue me. Because I happen to dig crab salad with mayonnaise. And what’s wrong with that?
Sure, my brain appreciates authenticity, and I’m interested in the roots and traditional regional preparations of a given dish, but if something delicious is inauthentic, does my stomach really care?
Authenticity is important to maintain, for all sorts of cultural and historical reasons, and not just when it comes to crab salad. Authentic folk dances are important. Authentic basket- weaving techniques are important. Authentic Icelandic windpipe music is important. It all matters.
But just because something’s authentic doesn’t necessarily mean I’m going to like it better.
When it comes to Icelandic music, for example, I’ll take Björk.
Authenticity in food, while I find it the subject compelling, is no deal-breaker when I’m deciding whether I like something. I’m just as open to a Yankee-fied Cal-Mex fajita as I am to a more “authentic” Oaxacan enchilada. I’ll down my share of steamers whether the clambake’s on a Cape Cod beach or in a Pasadena parking lot. I’ll chow on sesame chicken, whether it’s from Beijing or Billings.
Because when it comes to liking something, I’m no slave to authenticity. I appreciate it, for sure, but I don’t need it.
(Except, ahem, when it comes to martinis. Gin, vermouth and an olive. Don’t even try to come at me with anything else.)
Dining critic Tucker Shaw can be reached at 303-954-1958 or at dining@denverpost.com.
What’s your favorite authentic dish, and what makes it authentic? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.
