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The other South Philly gravy: Crab

The iconic foodstuffs of the Delaware Valley are many. The roast pork sandwich has rightfully become a point of pride, recognized in publications local and national.

Little Nonna's version of spaghetti and whole crabs. (Photo by James Narog)
Little Nonna's version of spaghetti and whole crabs. (Photo by James Narog)Read more

The iconic foodstuffs of the Delaware Valley are many. The roast pork sandwich has rightfully become a point of pride, recognized in publications local and national.

And we can't seem to shake our notoriety for the cheesesteak, even though our local food scene has evolved so far beyond this humble sandwich.

There is, however, one summertime staple that is pure Philly, deserves elite culinary status, and is largely unsung.

My grandmother made it, and yours might have, too. If you have Italian heritage, a Jersey Shore tradition, and someone who likes to cook in your family, it may well be on this weekend's meal plan.

I'm talking about the summertime cousin to Sunday night's meatballs and spaghetti: crab gravy and macaroni. There are similar versions made in a few other places on the East Coast where Italian communities crossed paths with live crabs - such as Long Island and Maryland - but our version is the only one called gravy.

The basics of the meal are always the same: Add local crabs to a typical pot of tomato sauce and simmer. Set the table with crab crackers, serve with spaghetti, and pass the napkins.

This venerable meal has never been something you'd see at restaurants, at least not until very recently. This summer, Little Nonna's in Midtown Village put on a two-night event featuring a special crab and spaghetti prix fixe. Once announced, every table booked up within two hours. During the dinner itself, diners were already clamoring for an encore. Owner and executive chef Marcie Turney was shocked at both the turnout and enthusiasm.

She's not from around here.

The Wisconsin native had tasked her second in command at Little Nonna's, Dan Giorgio, with thinking up a theme for a special dinner to boost business and draw new diners in the traditionally slow early summer. Giorgio is a South Philly lifer; his aunt owns a house in Cape May. It was a flashback to the early summers he spent there that inspired the sold-out event.

"We would always go out crabbing, and the first weekend of the summer that everyone was there, that's when we'd have our first crab and macaroni feast," he says. Decades back, Giorgio's mom, Peaches, and his Aunt Theresa taught him how to make his family's version of crab gravy.

"Clearly, this is very nostalgic for people," says Turney, who is planning a follow-up event over Labor Day weekend.

For Giorgio, the authentic version of crabs and spaghetti is made by dropping live crabs into a cauldron of bubbling marinara. "For exactly 12 minutes," he says. It's those live crustaceans, complete with their gills, lungs, and roe, that give the sauce the unmistakable flavor of the ocean, Giorgio says.

That's how my family does it as well, but like many regional recipes, it's one hotly contested variation among its many highly personal formulas. "Even my own aunts do it a little differently than my mom," says Giorgio.

Anthony D'Angelo, fishmonger at Ippolito's Seafood in South Philadelphia, takes another approach to the crab gravy sold at the fish market. The recipe he learned from his grandmother starts with cleaned New Jersey crabs - all those innards removed. Then the cleaned crabs are added to the pot of red sauce to simmer gently all day, eight to 10 hours. Because the meat inside those crabs has given up basically all its flavor to the gravy at that point, freshly cooked crabmeat is added at the end for a jolt of texture and flavor.

I asked which side of this debate Vince Iannelli comes down on, but the owner of Iannelli's on East Passyunk Avenue won't say. His recipe is a trade secret. Iannelli's specializes in crab gravy, packing its proprietary sauce in jars and shipping it nationwide. "A lot of people who order it from me are from around here but moved away," says Iannelli. It's a taste of home accessible by mail order.

What he will talk about is his own family's tradition with the sauce, which, as with Giorgio, goes back to summer Sundays when his family relaxed together on the beach in Ventnor.

"My grandmother made it every Sunday in the summer, but still on Sunday afternoon, she'd ask everyone in a mix of Italian and English, 'What do you think for dinner tonight? What about crab and macaroni?' As if she didn't know." A few miles away in Wildwood, a similar scene transpired regularly; it was a tradition on the other side of his family as well.

Iannelli prefers to work with local crabs, especially ones he catches himself. "I go out spearfishing off Longport Jetty, and when I'm out there, I can get as many crabs as I want," he says. "It's like a blueberry farm of crabs down there. They're everywhere."

There are those who would never consider riffing on their family's traditional crab gravy, but there are plenty of chefs who can't resist taking a sacrosanct recipe and reinterpreting it for a modern menu. High Street on Market has done just that with its angry crab pasta dish.

"Originally, it was soft-shell crabs in a spicy red sauce, very much a version of the traditional crab-and-spaghetti thing," says chef de cuisine Jon Nodler, who, it must be said, is also not from around here.

Thanks to a great deal of creative tinkering, High Street's current iteration of the angry crab bears little resemblance to its inspiration. "There's no red sauce at all anymore," says Nodler. It now combines fresh pasta with a sauce of chili oil and fermented crab paste - definitely not your grandma's gravy. Still, a perfect example of how our regional food traditions can evolve as they thrive.

That haute cuisine angry crab stuff may be remarkably delicious (it's been reported that the dish helped Philadelphia win the next Democratic National Convention), but it will never replace the crab gravy families are making this Sunday down the Shore.

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Inquirer staff writer Joseph A. Gambardello recalls cooking with his father. philly.com/crabspaghetti EndText

Little Nonna's Crab Gravy

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Makes 8 servings

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1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 large onion, diced

1 tablespoon salt

1 teaspoon pepper

3 tablespoons minced garlic

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 cup dry white wine

3 cups clam juice

1 teaspoon chili flakes

1 tablespoon fennel seed

1 28-ounce can San Marzano tomatoes

Juice and zest of

2 lemons

18 blue-claw crabs

2 pounds spaghetti, cooked according to package directions

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1. In a large pot set over medium heat, combine the olive oil, onion, salt, and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and tomato paste, and continue cooking until the garlic is fragrant and the tomato paste has darkened, about 3 minutes more. Add the white wine and clam juice, and bring to a simmer, using a wooden spoon to scrape any browned bits up off the bottom of the pot. Add the tomatoes, chili flakes, and fennel seed. Bring to a simmer, and cook, covered, for three hours, stirring frequently.

2. Puree the sauce in a blender, and then add the lemon juice and zest.

3. Bring to a boil, add the crabs, and cook for exactly 12 minutes.

4. Serve immediately with the freshly cooked spaghetti.

Per serving: 551 calories; 17 grams protein; 81 grams carbohydrates; 7 grams sugar; 17 grams fat; 92 milligrams cholesterol; 1,331 milligrams sodium; 3 grams dietary fiber.EndText

Ippolito's Crab Gravy

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Makes 6 servings

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2 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon chopped garlic

1 tablespoon chili flakes (or to taste)

½ cup basil leaves, chopped

12 crabs, cleaned

3/4 cup white wine

2 cans crushed tomatoes (28 ounces each)

1 can whole peeled tomatoes, with juices (28 ounces)

1 pound claw crab meat, picked clean

2 pounds spaghetti, cooked according to package directions

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1. In a large stockpot over medium heat, combine the olive oil, garlic, chili flakes, and basil. Cook until the garlic becomes fragrant, about 1 to 2 minutes. Add the crabs and white wine and cover. Steam for two minutes. Add the crushed and whole tomatoes. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer gently for 8 to 10 hours, stirring every half hour to ensure the sauce doesn't stick to the bottom of the pot.

2. Just before serving, stir in the crab meat and simmer until hot, an additional 20 minutes. Serve with freshly cooked spaghetti.

Per serving: 709 calories; 40 grams protein; 102 grams carbohydrates; 11 grams sugar; 12 grams fat; 191 milligrams cholesterol; 1,006 milligrams sodium; 5 grams dietary fiber.EndText