Crab regiment

Clearly communication and team work are important in relationships.

This, I have recently decided, means couples that cook together must be strengthening their relationships meal by meal. Cooking together allows a couple to test the ground for future team tasks, possibly increasing or decreasing attraction depending on their ability to work together in the kitchen. It also allows a bit of practice to improve these skills before more essential teamwork... and we all know that "practice makes perfect".

Me and Greg don't have the responsibility of a house or children yet, but our communication skills do not go unused. We do cook together a lot, but it was when faced with a new challenge in a restaurant that I realised that food had had us practising our "couple skills" since the very beginning.

For part of my birthday present Greg took me to a lovely Seafood restaurant we'd been meaning to try for a while. As we'd woken up late that morning, we'd only had time to fit in one meal before going out to dinner, so by the time we arrived at the restaurant we were so peckish that we demolished the "courtesy hand fried crisps" that had replaced the standard bread and olives, in no time at all. We eagerly ordered, desperate to fill the ever increasing void in our stomachs. To start Greg had "Yellow fin Tuna tartare, ginger, lime and radish" and I had "seared diver scallops with pomegranate and pancetta". As usual we exchanged a little of our own for a little of the other persons. (Me and Greg have a rule for when we eat out, that allows us to see and sample as much of the menu as possible. No one on the table is allowed to order the same thing.) Our starters were thoroughly enjoyed, both for their taste and for filling our tummies a little.

Next came our mains... and our challenge.

As I mentioned in my previous post Greg and I enjoy the excitement of trying new foods, so when I spotted "Whole grilled crab, garlic, chilli & ginger butter £19.50" on the menu, having never tackled a "Whole" crab before, I ambitiously ordered it for my main. Now the starters had been taken away, and unusual cutlery was being placed before me. I began to get nervous. It arrived partly dismantled, but with the meat still tucked away in the many crevices. It was also very hot, meaning I had to juggle getting meat out of it with not burning my hands. After a couple of minutes of bewildered struggle, mine and Greg's team work skills we've built up over the last five years jumped into action. He set about using the long spindly utensil to push and prod the white meat out of the body, I got the easier job of cracking open the legs and claws. By the time the crab had given up every last morsel, we were both covered in bits of shell, pieces of meat, and had long forgotten that we were in a restaurant and surrounded by other dinners. It had been a military operation; both of us so focused fully on the task and its efficiency, that our only conversation had been instructions (or orders) to one another. It was then, with crab shell hanging in my hair and my hunger finally diminished, that I realised our harsh lieutenant, food, had once again taught us one of the most important relationship skills. How to work as a team.

Just in case you get stuck with a crab but are without your other team member, this is how you tackle it...