Boiling Point

Two days later, the odiferous temptation lingered on me like a slip hugging the tasty curves of a buxom brunette model. Pungent best described the scent, as it invaded my clothes, my hair, and I breathed garlic like a medieval dragon. It drove me wild, making my watering mouth a virtual Niagra Falls.
I had a case of Devil Fingers, and, boy, was it good to be this bad.
Actually, by all estimates, I consumed a healthy dose of high protein, low fat fruit from borne from the bottom of the sea. Shellfish, among a few other things, is my guiltiest pleasure. And you can still love yourself when looking in the mirror the next morning.
A friend and I had visited a must if you live in the greater Los Angeles area, and you love all things crustaceous. The Boiling Crab is a chain with several locations mostly smattered in densely Asian-populated areas, namely Garden Grove and Alhambra. And, as I learned on their web site, the ext time I’m in either Dallas or Houston, you need not guess where I’ll be visiting to discover if truly everything is bigger, and spicier, in Texas. The chain actually got its start there in Seadrift, a tiny crabbing town in the southeastern part of the state.
Try this big daddy Cajun menu on for size: 2 pounds of shrimp, with the heads attached, of course; a pound of Alaskan King Crab legs; a whole Dungeness Crab, complete with those “Devil Fingers,” or the lungs served boiled in garlic and served in see-through trash bags. Throw in a helping of boiled potatoes and corn on the cob, and with the tagline “You gonna suck what?”, how can you go wrong?
The menu is not extensive but powerful. There’s also oyster on the half shell at either six or a dozen per order, crawfish, blue crab (seasonal), catfish, gumbo, Cajun fries, Cajun hot wings. And choose your poison, from regular seasoning, which is basically the fish itself, to medium to hot. The latter is not for the faint of heart.
Perhaps best yet, the Boiling Crab has a great, down-home atmosphere, to boot. If a cramped strip-mall storefront a stone’s throw from a Vietnamese coffee shop in Westminster isn’t your style – and if you’re a straight male over 18, trust me it is – sample the decidedly more crab house surroundings in Alhambra about northeast of downtown Los Angeles. But whichever you choose, prepare to wait. Open seven days a week, the Boiling Crab always has a line, from opening at 3 p.m. until the kitchen closes for the evening at a quarter ‘til 10 at night. Not only for the good food but the extremely reasonable prices. A pound of Alaskan King Crab legs produces at least a half dozen meaty stems at $14.99.
The beers are cold, premium and also cheap – Newcastle is $3 a bottle – and the staff is friendly and willing to shoot the shit on everything from the game on one of the newer restaurant’s flat screens or the tunes playing on the jukebox.
Just prepare to get gluttonously dirty, but if you're on a date be sure she (or he) can handle you. Very probably you'll send your co-workers fleeing to another part of the office the following morning. That’s almost worth the experience in itself.

Visit the Boiling Crab to find out more.