You play the hand you're dealt. And so I've been on the perennial, bumpy trek hereabouts. You find an absolute paragon - say the sauteed, lemon-butter-sauced baby at Odeon on 12th Street - and the joint shuts down. Or a chef re-creates his mother's recipe from the Eastern Shore, then moves on. Or the golden crabcake of memory breaks bad.
I had a pan-seared delight at the Waterworks Restaurant overlooking the Schuylkill last summer. Went back recently; didn't recognize it: The thing was limp and doughy.
You fear retracing your steps: Had a big, meaty blob of a crabcake at Oceanaire on Washington Square not long ago. Hope it's hanging in there (along with Susanna Foo's singular One-Hundred-Corner Crabcake).
A recheck of Striped Bass turned up a sweet, tender rendition, unbreaded shreds of Dungeness crabmeat packed in a ring mold, paired with julienned green apple and fennel frond. (Note to chef: Lose that feathery fennel; it's like chewing wet fur.)
So you try a few newcomers. At Honey's Sit 'n Eat, the retro-chic eatery in Northern Liberties, the crabcake is a mistake - a vile, inedible pancake. At Knock, the refitted, straight-friendly dining room at 12th and Locust, on the other hand, the baked crabcakes are hefty, tasty scoops, kicked up a notch with creole mustard.
Which brings me to Sang Kee Asian Bistro, the busy Wynnewood duck house. Owner Michael Chow says crabcakes were an afterthought on the otherwise Asian menu. But they've turned out elegantly, two tall plugs (about the size and look of diver scallops) seared to a crispy edge on the top; sweet, creamy and crabby inside. They're animated with tangy tangerine dipping sauce.
