My Story

The aroma of simmering southern New Jersey tomatoes fills the small kitchen of the 19th century bay-front cottage. The home, purchased by my grandparents during my birth-year of 1969, is a keystone in the story of my life. My grandfather, Lawrence W. Broomall, Sr., is a veteran of two wars and a master in the kitchen. In my memory, my grandfather shows off his Jersey credentials by cleaning Callinectes sapidus, or as they are popularly known, Atlantic blue crabs. Soon the crabs will meet grandpa's homemade marinara in a pairing that will headline the evening's supper. Absolute perfection. More about this later.

Though the marinara is most memorable, I fondly remember that I was always provided with “ocean gold” at our family's crabfests, succulent meat picked from the relatively tiny shells and claws of blue crabs. You see, the crabs were always cleaned for me. My job? Let the meat dance with the marinara. In those carefree days, I had no idea that my grandfather's passing in the early 80s — I called him “pop-pop” — would have such a significant impact on my life.

It's perhaps 1981 and I'm only 11 years old. Ironically, our neighbors open a real crab shack right below the Yorktown bridge in Yorktown, VA. By “real,” I mean nothing fancy. It was like having a crabfest at the family cottage with the exception of someone else getting to clean up the mess. Ok, even at the cottage, someone else cleaned up the mess. In hindsight, I'm sure my grandmother (“mom-mom”) and my mother weren't going to trust me with a soggy rolled up newspaper full of crab s-crap-s. That's a trainwreck of a mess waiting to happen.

I'm Handed. A. Crab. A whole crab. A crab that wasn't lovingly “cleaned” by “pop-pop.” No, no pile of meat this time; it's time to run with the big dogs. What on earth am I going to do with this? At this point my memory gets fuzzy; perhaps subconsciously I choose to forget the catastrophic events in my life such as having to “clean” my own crab. Ok, “catastrophic” might be a bit overkill, but it took some time “to man up” so I could clean and enjoy my crab.

Imay remember dad's instructions as… “Remove the claws and feelers, pull the tab, separate the shells, break the body in half, remove the lungs and clean out the mustard.” Good thing he didn't say “pull-the-pin” as if a grenade. This sucker would have left a mess with it packed so full of “mustard.” Ah the mustard… No, not the good kind like “yellow” or “ball park” or “Dijon,” we're talking about “crap.” Well ok. I experimented on several of the poor deceased crustaceans and thankfully had more than one to dissect (unlike the frog from biology class). Do they even still use “real” frogs nowadays?

How did I come up with CrabbyPilot.com? For starters, I'm a pilot. I've been flying for nearly 30 years. As for the crab, fast forward to 2008. As I'm cleaning crab for a crabfest with my good friend Mark Phaenuf, in thanksgiving for his wonderful friendship and wonderful family, his wife Susan asks, “How are things going for you at Comair?” “Well,” I respond, “It's 2008 you know; things aren't great.” After a few more grumblings from me (watching my language), Susan says, “Well, you're a crabby pilot.”

Why now after so many years am I finally launching the site? Glad you asked. Well, truth be told, I've wanted to launch it over the past several years but never really knew what I wanted to do with the site. But with grandma's passing I knew I wanted to get CrabbyPilot launched to share my experiences with fresh seafood at the cottage and on the road as a pilot. I have the good fortune of being able to fly a private jet that allows me to do overnights in smaller communities instead of the relatively larger cities as I did with the airlines. When I'm along the coast, I always make my way to the local seafood restaurants and markets.

Please join me on CrabbyPilot.com as I travel and introduce you to “Crabby Destinations” like restaurants, marketplaces, festivals and other neat adventures. Oh, and I'm not limiting this to just blue crabs or crabs in general. I love seafood, well most seafood, so I will feature all sorts of meats from the blue, foamy depths. I hope you'll join me as we celebrate salty air, family, beautiful vistas, and extraordinary recipes.