Soup Friday: John Wright Restaurant - Cream of Crab
This week’s Soup Friday featured a special guest star appearance from my seventeen-month-old, mullet-rocking niece Ella. The first stop on our Friday family field trip was Flinchbaugh’s Orchard & Market in York County. As we took my niece to the old Ducktown Road, I was disappointed to not spot any waterfowl or Lil Nas X, but I did notice a gaggle of locals flocked to the store to purchase cartons of discounted strawberries. Fruit-filled cardboard containers rapidly flew off the shelf. In a scene reminiscent of despicable Pokémon card resellers at a wholesale store on the day of a new pack release, customers excessively grabbed as many as packages they could carry in their arms as they ran to their carts to drop off the berries before returning for more.
In an effort to shield my niece’s young, innocent blue eyes from the horror of produce avarice, I transported her to the less-crowded jarred preserves section. There, we admired a vast variety of jams for sale including apple cider, apple honey, apple habanero, and the spread named for its foreshadowing: apple traffic jam. A few minutes later, my niece, Ella, received her first toy of the day, an orange tyrannosaurus rex stuffed animal. Her grandparents couldn’t refuse to say no to their lone grandbaby when she pointed at it and let out her favorite animal noise: a boisterous dinosaur roar.
While they checked out, I was tempted as I stood idly by the desserts section. The cookies, cobblers, and chocolate moo-shmellow ice cream all looked delicious, but my eyes fixated on the table with an enticing selection of whoopie pies. There’s something about the setting of a rural farm market, that enhances the appeal of this delectable treat. I picked up a chocolate whoopie pie with mint filling (‘Tis the season!) and rationalized that I wouldn’t be spoiling my upcoming soup lunch because I still had not eaten breakfast at that point. Plus, I promised to myself to only eat half of it and save the rest for later.
We headed east to Wrightsville to meet my sister for lunch. What should have been an easy ten-minute drive turned into a hectic thirty-minute drive filled with congestion along Route 462, a short-lived temper tantrum, and an intense feeling of guilt after scarfing down the entire whoopie pie. Eventually, we made it to the borough and were transported back in time as we observed Wrightsville’s quaint brick houses and buildings. Moments later, we arrived at a former silk mill and our lunch destination, the John Wright Restaurant.
With the goal of killing time, burning off a few of the whoopie pie calories, and keeping the baby occupied as my delayed sister navigated her way through the same disruptive traffic, we walked around their substantial grassy area in the back. During that period, my parents and I beheld the two parallel bridges spanning the mighty Susquehanna and forming a junction between Lancaster and York County. Baby Ella instead focused her attention on the seagulls heading the opposite way. She waved bye-bye to the birdies as they headed towards the land of the Amish as we headed inside to continue our wait.
“Rawr” - Ella/Godzilla
In the restaurant’s store, Ella quickly became intrigued by two miniature bunny toys. Her cuteness and pampered nature earned her two more gifts she’ll rediscover in a month when she receives her Easter basket. An item I didn’t need captivated my attention once again. A tea towel made for a guy nicknamed Ev Dog hung on a display rack near the entrance. It featured two dogs enjoying two of the finer things in life: treats and alcohol. It would have been a perfect unnecessary addition for my apartment, but as I continued to mull over the budgetary concerns of a want versus a need, my sister walked in and my family ventured back to our table.
It’s so me! Biggest regret of my life.
The blend of vintage rustic warehouse vibes mixed with an updated interior made up of modern black fixtures created the classic contemporary farm-to-table restaurant atmosphere. While the volatile weather of March does not complement it well, the seating area still features a picturesque view of the river. Our family also appreciated the room’s high ceilings as Baby Ella has both the tendency of tossing food in the air and the arm of a Gold Glove-winning outfielder.
The baby had chicken nuggets and fries ordered on her behalf. I requested a cup of the restaurant’s mainstay soup, the cream of crab. Not long after the kid’s meal arrived, a barrage of breaded poultry bits was launched rapidly across the table. Ella mischievously smiled after a direct hit struck the target of her Nonna’s shirt. Fortunately, she at least ate her fries in a peaceful manner after every salty centimeter of them was drenched in Heinz ketchup.
After hastily taking the signature photo of my soup, I grabbed my saucer plate and prepared to utilize it as a chicken missile interceptor as my table neighbor continued her attempt to instigate a food fight. I temporarily lowered my shield and refocused my attention back to the soup. While the cream of crab produced a bold crabby aroma as one may expect, I didn’t find it to be as pungent as other shellfish-laden chowders I consumed earlier in the soup season. A harmonious partnership was formed by the soup’s effective proportions of cream and spices. Just the right amount was utilized for each component as the cream provided a complementary soothing blanket to cover the spice’s light but prominent kick. Conversely, I could feel my systolic number swiftly elevate as the amount of sodium included in this cup was high enough to give the average customer hypertension. In my opinion, for six dollars, a fair number of succulent pieces of crabmeat drifted through the cup’s creamy waves. The other prominent ingredient, the asparagus, provided a brief palate cleanse from the soup’s predominant crabby punch. However, I would have preferred a longer moment for my tastebuds to reset as I wish the asparagus wasn’t cut so thinly. As an unfortunate result of this shortcoming, John Wright diners who select the bowl-sized version of the cream of crab will likely regret their choice three quarters of the way through their soup.
Despite not eating any soup, Ella became a salty crab as she grew restless for her post-lunch nap. Still, even when she’s not in the nicest of moods, it’s always nice spending time with her.