Is It Fancy? Is It Trashy? This Hot Dip Doesn’t Care.

As I’ve shared with Serious Eats readers before, I know my way around a crab. I was raised by a mother from Maryland’s Eastern Shore who believed that it was just as important for me to be skilled at picking apart a crab and eating every last shred of meat and drop of mustard gunk as it was to learn to walk and read. At family crab feasts, she inspected my pile of shells, partly to make sure I wasn’t tarnishing the family name, and partly because maybe—just maybe—there was some hidden morsel still in need of eating after she had finished all of hers. (There never was.)

My frequent childhood trips to Maryland to visit my grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins almost always revolved around tables strewn with Old Bay–crusted jumbos, heaping crab cakes, bowls of she-crab soup, sautéed softshells, or a piping hot dish of crab imperial. One recipe that wasn’t in my family’s rotation during that era: this spicy crab dip.

I didn’t grow up with hot crab dip, but one taste was all it took to rekindle my crustacean-loving sense memories—licking salty, spicy, crab-stained fingers, pruned and stinging from the tiny cuts and punctures that come with a proper crab feast. Though with the dip, you get all that rich crab flavor and ample Old Bay seasoning layered into a baking dish of molten goo without any of the finger injuries or salt-chapped lips.

And here’s the thing: That molten goo is delicious, even if it’s undeniably junky and perhaps an affront to the crab purists of the world (among whom I count myself). Mixing beautiful lumps of blue crab into a rich but lowbrow combination of cream cheese, mayo, sour cream, Old Bay, garlic powder, cayenne, hot sauce, grated cheddar cheese, and Worcestershire sauce may seem like sacrilege, but it’s damned tasty sacrilege. And, to be fair, the crab flavor still comes through loud and clear, so no real harm done.

Put another way, this hot and spicy dip is a fantastic way to stretch a can of crab (yes, a can—there’s no way I’m picking all that meat by hand to put it in a dip) and serve a crowd of friends and family some signature Maryland flavor. Be careful, though: You may not have shell-injured fingers eating this, but you could easily burn your taste buds off if you jump in too eagerly once it comes out of the oven. It’s hard to resist, but let it cool just a little, OK?

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