His recipe for crab soup comes from Hawaii, but its roots are Chesapeake Bay - includes recipes

His recipe for crab soup comes from Hawaii, but its roots are Chesapeake Bay Derived from a she-crab soup conceived in Maryland's Chesapeake Bay, and brought to us from Hawaii, Matt Cabot's crab soup might truly be called nationwide. Instead of blue crab, this version uses Dungeness; instead of crab roe, hard-cooked eggs serve for added enrichment; instead of cream, as a sop to the calorie-conscious, Cabot uses milk. Marylanders newly arrived in the West brag about the flavor of blue crab, but they're eager enough to eat our Western crabs (which are bigger anyway), and will even concede that ours have more meat and less shell than the blues.

Crab Soup

2 tablespoons butter or margarine 1 medium-size onion, chopped 3 tablespoons cornstarch 2 quarts low-fat or whole milk 1 bottle (8 oz.) clam juice 1/2 cup dry sherry 1 teaspoon Worcestershire 1 pound shelled cooked crab 1 hard-cooked egg or 3 hard-cooked egg yolks, rubbed through a fine strainer Salt and pepper

Melt butter in a 4- to 5-quart pan over medium heat. Add onion and stir often until golden, 10 to 15 minutes. Smoothly mix cornstarch with about 1/4 cup of the milk, then add mixture along with remaining milk to pan. Stir often until boiling; turn heat to medium-low and add clam juice, sherry, Worcestershire, and crab. Stir gently until hot. Ladle into bowls. Sprinkle egg onto portions and add salt and pepper to taste. Makes about 3 quarts, 8 or 9 servings.

Per serving: 211 cal.; 18 g protein; 8.2 g fat; 15 g carbo.; 347 mg sodium; 98 mg chol.

Eggplant is the belle of the Solanaceae family, an extended clan that includes the above-reproach potato and tomato, scoundrels like tobacco, and out-and-out thugs like deadly nightshade. Its glossy, deep purple hue is lovely, but, since the name eggplant will never take prizes for euphony, decorators and designers refer to the color (and the French refer to the whole vegetable) as aubergine.

While some eggplant varieties actually do resemble eggs in both shape and coloring, and others come in browns, creams, greens, and reds, the most familiar shade is purple. For generations, melon-size deep purple fruits were the only ones in the market, but the slender Japanese (also called Oriental--and even French) varieties are coming on strong, and Dean Terlinden uses these in his Simply Perfect Eggplant recipe. Notice that tomato, a frequent companion of eggplant, is present here in dried form. This variation makes for a rich tomato flavor without the accompanying soupiness.

Simply Perfect Eggplant

3 to 4 tablespoons salad oil 6 Oriental eggplants (about 1 lb. total), stemmed and cut crosswise into 1/2-inch-thick slices 1/4 cup dried tomatoes 1 small onion, finely chopped 1/2 pound mushrooms, minced 1 small red bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and chopped 1 teaspoon each finely chopped parsley, fresh oregano leaves, and fresh marjoram leaves; or use parsley and 1/2 teaspoon each dry leaves of oregano and marjoram Salt and pepper

Coat a 10- by 15-inch pan with oil. Lay eggplant slices side-by-side in pan; brush tops with oil (you'll need 1 to 2 tablespoons). Bake in a 425[degrees] oven until browned and very soft when pressed, about 25 minutes.

Meanwhile, put tomatoes in a small bowl and barely cover with boiling water; let stand at least 5 minutes. Drain tomatoes and finely chop.

Pour 2 tablespoons oil into a 10- to 12-inch frying pan over medium heat. When oil is hot, add tomatoes, onion, mushrooms, bell pepper, parsley, oregano, and marjoram; stir often until mushrooms are slightly browned, 10 to 15 minutes. Keep mixture warm.

Arrange eggplant slices on a platter and top with onion mixture. Season vegetables to taste with salt and pepper. Makes 4 to 6 servings.

Per serving: 117 cal.; 2.8 g protein; 7 g fat; 13 g carbo.; 15 mg sodium; 0 mg chol.

R.D. Horwitz's marriage of Mexican enchiladas and Jewish blintzes was made not in heaven but in San Diego--but it is still a happy match. Nevertheless, he is accurate in naming his creation "Culture Shock Blintzes."

Mr. Horwitz got the idea when, having decided to make chicken enchiladas for brunch, he found himself without tortillas. The logical thing was to substitute crepes. These eggy pancakes look somewhat like tortillas and can, like them, be used for packaging other food. In a traditional blintz, the crepe is folded like an envelope around a cheese filling, lightly fried, and served with fruit or jam. But it can contain other foods as well.

The crepe, though more tender than the tortilla, holds together well enough to make an attractive package, and portions left uncovered by sauce are not likely to turn into leather, as tortillas (especially those made of corn) too often do.

Culture Shock Blintzes

1 tablespoon salad oil 1 medium-size onion, chopped 1 small green bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and diced 1 large can (15 oz.) tomato sauce 2-1/2 tablespoons chili powder 1 cup diced cooked chicken Crepes (recipe follows) 1 cup (4 oz.) shredded jack cheese 1 medium-size firm-ripe avocado, peeled, pitted, and sliced About 3/4 cup sour cream or small-curd cottage cheese Purchased salsa and sliced ripe olives (optional)