Lake crabs, river crabs, salt-water crabs? They are getting prime space at the seafood stalls right now. Pauline D. Loh shows you how to get the best out of the crustaceans.

Poets wax lyrical and artists get inspired by these unlikely creatures. Not exactly things of great beauty, crabs look a little like giant aquatic spiders, scuttling sideways as
they try to avoid the jaws of hungry humans.

I am pretty sure it's no consolation that they have been immortalized in poetry, prose and art ever since the first roe-rich mitten crab was discovered and consumed.

It's not just the lake-grown mitten or hairy crabs that face this seasonal slaughter. All around China, crabs from river and sea are also preparing to mate in September and
October, their bodies laden with eggs and milt. At least, they will mate if they can avoid being eaten first.

The harvest moon, chrysanthemums, wine and crabs have been the classic props for parties of scholars for generations.

There is actually a major industry south of the Yangtze River specializing in the cultivation of hairy crabs, boxy creatures with furry claws that can cost up to a few thousand
dollars a feed.

There are many other lakes that produce hairy crabs, but the ones from Lake Yangcheng near Shanghai are deemed the best. There is even a branding campaign with little numbered
tags that can trace the crab's origin right back to birth, location and farmer.

If you are not fussy about branding, crabs from local lakes are cheaper, but don't expect them to cost much less. Our voracious appetites are making crabs a scarce commodity.
That is the reason why when you do buy some, make use of every little bit of the crab.

Hairy crabs are best enjoyed steamed, served with a tiny bowl of finely diced ginger in the best Zhejiang aged vinegar. This is the best way to savor the sweetness of the crab.

I have a little trick with the claws, which are usually discarded by my lazy family. I take a pair of sharp scissors and remove the dark meat. Then, with any left over crabmeat,
I do an asparagus stir-fry that has a smooth egg-white custard base. I often garnish it with some crab roe. It's a very pretty dish and easy to boot.

For the salt-water crabs, normally blue swimmers, I will do a stir-fry with a simple hot chili paste or black bean and garlic. Often I will steam them first, then remove the
meat and keep the shell. After a bit of scrubbing and trimming, the shells are stuffed with a mixture of crabmeat, mushrooms and sauted onions and then baked.

That way, the lazy gourmets in the family clean up the plates.

It may sound fiddly, but I find that on lazy weekend mornings, I can watch the TV or listen to a new CD as I shell the crabs. It's almost therapeutic.

My mother-in-law loves drunken crab, something that her own mother used to make. This is a dish from the Zhejiang-Jiangsu region where a glut often meant that inventive chefs
had to think of a way to keep the crabs for a few weeks.

It's a lovely dish, despite it's rather scary connotations for those who are thinking: "Raw crabs!"

The crabs are marinated in a mixture of yellow and white Chinese wines flavored with scallions, star anise, ginger and garlic. What comes out after a few days are heady morsels
that are silky smooth. You have to try some.

One plea, though. Please place the crabs in the deep freeze for an hour or so before you dunk them in the wine marinade. Otherwise you may hear some disturbing scrabbling sounds
coming from the covered pot that may send you on a guilt trip.

The first time I made this, I just could not bring myself to taste the crabs, even though I knew I had liked them very much before. Their scrabbling haunted me.