Pier And Simple
A beginner’s guide to the peaceful art of crabbing
WRITER Alison Pollack
PHOTOGRAPHER Tri Nguyen
Winter in the Bay Area is undeniably dreary, but at the rocky intertidal zone where water meets land, there’s a touch of magic in the seaspray. A day by the water is gray, damp, and windy, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be pleasant, even cozy. There’s a community of enthusiasts who layer up, top off thermoses, and spend hours pierside seeking out a tender, briny, lemon-and-butter-drenched feast: rock crabs.
Rock crab fishing is beginner-friendly because no license is required to fish for them from city public piers. More plentiful and sustainable than the lauded but limited Dungeness, rock crabs are said to taste nearly the same, if a bit tougher (but my own taste test proved opposite).
My crabbing curiosity got the best of me, and I set out for Torpedo Wharf in the Presidio. At the base of the Golden Gate Bridge and with sweeping views, this pier is almost disgustingly iconic. It only made sense to pick a postcard-perfect pier for my first solo crabbing experience.
Minimal equipment is needed: a $20 crab snare (skip the $200 pots), bait such as squid, a fishing pole, and something to store your catch will do. Check out our gift guide for ideas, ranging from the essential to luxurious. Prior to my big crabby excursion, I visited a bait shop (angler-recommended Gus’s Discount Fishing Tackle is a great option). I found my husband’s dusty fishing pole and practiced casting. Easy enough. It was time to reel for real.
Or you could skip the gear investment and book a guided excursion with The Art of Crabbing. Owner Alex Goffo—a former sushi chef who questioned why California rolls use fake crab in such a bountiful region—provides everything from equipment to cooking. These excursions are a great option for expert guidance.
To ensure a future for crab-kind, the minimum size is 4 inches. The littles I kept catching were, frankly, adorable. I loved their tiny glistening eyes and how the color of their shells matched the International Orange of the bridge. I tossed them back, not even mad about sending them home and not to my dinner plate.
Some might rather sip wine by the fireplace than face the wintery bayside elements. I get it. Whether you want to reenact “Deadliest Catch” like me or would rather watch it under blankets on the couch, there are options for everyone. Pier 45 or 47 are great places to buy the freshest crab straight from fishing boats, but since there are no set docking times, that’s a bit of an adventure in and of itself. Fresh Meat Seafood Market in the Mission is a wonderful market option.
Finally, I caught a 5-inch rock crab that I felt great about taking home. I set the little guy on ice (ice slows them) and walked off the pier, saluted by nods from the other anglers. It was a happy farewell to a peaceful day. I never expected crabbing to feel so meditative.
Alison Pollack crabbing in the Presidio pier
Processing crab can be simple. Funny enough, tickling their bellies soothes them. That’s likely because nerve centers are located down the middle of their underside, which happens to be the fastest and most painless area to dispatch them. Simply use a knife to pierce the direct center and underside of the crab. Although boiling crabs alive is the most hands-off method, it’s been proven that crabs feel pain (bummer, I know), so it’s better for the crab to get it over with quickly with something sharp. From there, it can be cleaned and then cooked.
I opted to serve half the meat the classic way—with outrageous amounts of butter, garlic, and lemon, and the other half using James Beard Award finalist and Bay Area restaurateur Crystal Wahpepah’s sumptuous chili crab recipe (heads up, Crystal’s cookbook comes out this spring). It was delicious and felt so luxurious—like a meal on the final evening of a memorable vacation, not a Monday dinner at home.
The chili sauce is delicate, flavorful, and surprisingly easy to make. I followed the recipe below and opted for extra chili peppers because I like spicy, and let it all simmer longer than suggested for a beautiful red hue.
My single catch was a win, but felt more like an appetizer than dinner for two. Sure, I’m biased, but the few tablespoons of meat from my rock crab tasted better than the full dinner plate of Dungeness I purchased on the way home—the meat was more tender, the flavor more briny and clean. Plus, nothing beats the flavor of pride. I was damn proud of myself for catching that little pop-tart-sized crab.
There’s a community on the piers, working towards the same goal and thoroughly enjoying themselves. There is so much joy and peace derived from spending time outdoors during the coldest, darkest time of year. Bundle up and capture a bit of that crisp, crabby winter magic for yourself—then douse it in butter.
