Start with 30 pounds of fresh Dungeness Crab, minutes off the boat (THANK YOU, NICK!!)  add fresh, hand-made ravioli from The Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market , add Family and Friends, and a good time is assured!

We flew to San Francisco over the weekend to visit my dad (I’m a San Francisco Native who moved east!) and my sister Eileen decided that since Crab Season just started, we should do a crab feed Saturday. Her best friend Renee’s son Nick works down on the piers, and was able to score 30 pounds of fresh crab for us at a ridiculously low price. (It really helps to be a native San Franciscan!) It was a really quick trip – we flew in Friday morning and flew out Sunday morning. Not even enough time to get a proper jet-lag!

Victor and I headed down to the Ferry Building early Saturday morning (more on that later!!) to do a bit of shopping and see what we could find to compliment the feast, when we came upon a vendor selling fresh hand-made pastas. He had a dozen different varieties, and every one looked better than the last, but we decided on Arugula, Pear, and Goat Cheese Ravioli, Porcini Mushroom Ravioli, and 3 Cheese Tortellini. They were a great choice!

There’s just nothing better than fresh crab slathered in butter and garlic (keep it simple!) along with crusty San Francisco Sourdough, and fresh pastas with a fresh sauce!  Victor – the resident Italian – made a fresh tomato sauce that complimented all the pastas.  His original plan was to make three sauces, but… one simple sauce sufficed quite nicely!

The crowd included Eileen and Mike and their son Sean, my brother Mike and Debbie, with their kids Bill and Katie, and Bill’s friend Nick (another Nick!) my sister Judy, with her son Justin, and her daughter Jennifer, with 5 year old Tommy, Renee and Tim – parents of Nick our Crab provider) and last, but not least, my crab-hating father. We started eating early – and continued eating well into the night. Judy supplied a decadent Chocolate Cake for dessert, and a good time was had by all!

On a side note… Friday morning, upon arrival, we went up to the rental car counter to pick up our car. Chatting with the woman behind the counter, she handed me a map of the city. I laughed and handed it back, saying I was born and raised in the city. She immediately replied in thrue San Franciscan fashion “What School?” (All San Franciscans immediately ask ‘what school’ – meaning high school.) I said Lincoln, she said she went to Star of the Sea. Year? ’69. She knew my ex-sister-in-law and all sorts of girls I know and knew! We talked about mutual friends, et al, as the line grew behind us. I miss San Francisco!

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