When we outgrow our clothes, we buy a bigger size. The blue crab, however, detaches from its shell and scuttles away, then waits until its new shell grows and hardens. Catch that jimmy before that happens and you've got yourself a treat, the delicate soft crab. We eat them all summer long, hoping to find them fresh, fat, and perfectly fried. For that, we go to Michael's (where the little legs crunch and the bodies spurt mustard). Non-natives tend to balk at a sandwich that looks ready to eat you instead of the other way around, but they're missing a delicacy. No muss, no fuss, no flying shells, no spice to sear the lips. Just pure eating enjoyment, Chesapeake Bay-style.