NVM Review

Crab Fried Rice

By Warren Rojas

Those who enjoy retreating into the bowels of the labyrinth-like Eden Center in search of authentic Vietnamese cooking have most likely passed right by the unassuming Sea Side Crab House. The modest carry-out-centric operation is not part of the sprawling main shopping structure, residing instead in a satellite strip. It’s further camouflaged by the covered patio—replete with portable space heaters, picnic tables and twin plasma TVs—that serves as the de facto main dining room. After finding the shop, rewards unfurl with provactively spiced seafood, including the intoxicating crab fried rice. Each bite of steaming rice loads scallions, garlic, scrambled egg and prominent nuggets of sweet delicious crab meat; incorporating the must-try shot of hot pepper-spiked soy sauce ignites every subsequent forkful.

By Warren Rojas

The Falls Church mini-verse known as Little Saigon can now add bona fide crab house to its roster of curious attractions with the arrival of Sea Side Crab House—an ambitious carry-out intent on delivering a world of fresh seafood.

Career restaurateur Tom Vo helped launch the nascent seafood counter earlier this spring, describing the tiny but welcoming eatery as a very “down-to-earth, get-your-hands-dirty” type of place. One wall is almost entirely filled with congratulatory notes and words of encouragement—parting salutes of “Best crawfish ever!” and “Seafood muy sabrosa” recount treasured meals past—from those lucky few diners who have managed to stumble upon this otherwise clandestine crab haven.

The tiny shop consists of a mere handful of tables right now, but at press time, Vo had already laid the groundwork for a comfy patio section to be done later this summer.

Virtually everything is served on Styrofoam plates, the cutlery is mostly plastic (save for the tiny metal forks used to coax the grilled fare from their respective shells), and drinks are poured into paper cups.

But what they lack in modernity they more than make up for in graciousness, as evidenced by individuals like manager Alex Pham—a friendly soul who is absolutely gung-ho about answering questions and strives to ensure that each facet of every meal is to your liking.

That level of attentiveness starts from the top down.

“Our policy would be, if you do not like our food, we would not dare to charge you. But if you do, please tell your friends,” Vo said of his heartfelt, word-of-mouth business plan.

Vo added that he’d be willing to prepare as few as a handful of crabs as a special request, even though he typically sells his crabs by the dozen or half-dozen. “We truly believe the customer is the boss,” he said of his desire to please.

The worldly menu reflects the same.

Entrees run the gamut from traditional Vietnamese—including various stir-fried seafood offerings and specialty items like shaking beef—to Texas blue crabs (trucked in daily), Louisiana crawfish (flown in daily), Alaskan snow crab legs and Chesapeake Bay clams.

“We put a little bit of the Asian flavor to the Cajun-style,” Vo said of his intercontinental carte. He labeled the Cajun crawfish—which he gleefully billed as “head-sucking, tail-pinching, finger-licking good”—as their main commodity, followed by their signature crab fried rice and wok-tossed shrimp and calamari creations.

Their crawfish are boiled in a blend of Cajun spices (fueled by Old Bay and cayenne pepper) that permeates the jolly red critters and transforms the tender white meat within into veins of zesty flesh. Even more exciting are savory coils of conch (imagine escargot on steroids) grilled-to-order and expertly seasoned beneath a hail of diced scallions, garlic and crushed peanuts. Plunge them into a homemade fish sauce anchored by their mesmerizing ginger-red chile blend for added Asian spice.

Jumbo crabs are as big as advertised, but their meat seems less sweet—could my taste buds be regionally biased?—than their Chesapeake Bay counterparts. Not that I notice much difference after decorating the impressive clumps of meat (yep, these guys are definitely bigger) with squirts of lime-infused vinegar (a welcome change from the plain malt variety) and more of the zippy ginger-chile-fish sauce (so tasty).

An order of crab fried rice—Vo said they pluck inferior-looking specimens from each delivery and harvest the meat themselves for use in this clever stir-fry—yields forkful after forkful of pulled crab meat rolling around with egg, spring onions, garlic and oil-infused grains of rice. Another brilliant sauce of chile-infused soy (the multicolored pods bob like warning buoys in the otherwise murky sauce) turns up the heat as desired.

Something tells me Vo’s not going to have to worry about footing the bill for a free meal anytime soon.