9 Delaware Crab Cake Counters That Keep It Old-School
Nothing beats the charm of an authentic Delaware crab cake joint where recipes haven’t changed in decades and locals still line up for their fix. These treasured spots serve up golden-brown patties bursting with sweet lump crabmeat, minimal filler, and secret spice blends passed down through generations. Join me as we explore nine beloved Delaware establishments where the art of the perfect crab cake remains deliciously unchanged.
1. Old Mill Crab House
Tucked away in Delmar, this weathered roadside gem has been serving the same family-recipe crab cakes since 1983. The moment you walk in, the aroma of Old Bay and butter transports you to simpler times.
Their baseball-sized cakes come broiled or fried, packed with jumbo lump meat and just enough binding to hold things together. No fancy aioli or pretentious plating here; just honest seafood on a paper plate with a lemon wedge.
Locals swear the secret ingredient is the brackish Chesapeake water where their crabs are harvested.
2. Roma Italian Restaurant
Who’d expect Dover’s most authentic crab cakes to come from an Italian joint? Roma’s been quietly perfecting their recipe since 1973, blending Mediterranean finesse with Chesapeake tradition.
Their crab cakes arrive sizzling hot, kissed with a whisper of oregano and parsley that somehow elevates the sweetness of the meat. I’ve watched grown men tear up at first bite; it’s that transcendent.
The owner, Giuseppe, still hand-forms each cake every morning, refusing to write down the recipe despite his children’s pleas.
3. Woody’s Dewey Beach
The plastic chairs might be wobbly and the paper napkins thin, but Woody’s crab cakes have been drawing beach bums and billionaires alike since 1983. Their signature broiled beauties have won countless awards without changing a single ingredient.
What makes them special? The unmistakable hint of mustard powder and the generous chunks of backfin meat that practically fall apart at the touch of your fork.
Come summer, the line stretches down Coastal Highway, but regulars know to arrive at 4:30 for the early bird special and first dibs.
4. Matt’s Fish Camp
Don’t let the humble digs fool you; Matt’s Fish Camp in Lewes serves crab cakes that would make a five-star chef weep with joy. The tiny kitchen, visible from most tables, turns out perfectly seasoned patties with a golden crust that audibly crackles.
Their secret? Sourcing only from specific Delaware Bay crabbers who harvest during the sweetest part of the season. Plus, they use just enough Duke’s mayo (never Hellmann’s, I checked) to bind without masking the delicate flavor.
Absolutely zero breadcrumbs ever touch these beauties.
5. Crab Cake Factory Bayside
The Selbyville institution started as a food truck when Grandma Millie refused to stop making crab cakes after her 80th birthday. Her grandson eventually convinced her to share her magic with the masses.
These hefty 8-ounce monsters feature a crisp exterior giving way to steamy, barely-touched crabmeat inside. The subtle hint of celery salt and white pepper is unmistakable to regulars.
My favorite part? They still use the same cast iron pans Millie insisted upon, seasoned with decades of delicious history and absolutely never washed with soap.
6. Crab Cake Company
Sandwiched between a discount haircut place and a vape shop in Middletown sits the unassuming storefront of culinary magic. Don’t judge this book by its cover; these might be the purest expression of Delaware crab cake artistry in existence.
Owner Captain Frank (a real waterman who still occasionally traps his own catch) uses a recipe his grandmother smuggled out of a Baltimore hotel kitchen in 1937. The barely-there binder lets the sweet lump meat shine through.
Regulars know to request the cakes “backdoor style”; a secret menu preparation involving brown butter and capers.
7. Skipjack Dining
Newark’s beloved Skipjack occupies an old converted garage where mechanics once changed oil. Now the only thing getting changed is people’s perception of what a perfect crab cake should be.
These softball-sized beauties feature meat from crabs harvested exclusively during full moons (when fat content peaks, according to owner Mabel). The minimal filler contains crushed saltines; never breadcrumbs, and a splash of sherry that elevates everything.
Mabel still personally inspects every cake before it leaves the kitchen, rejecting any that don’t meet her exacting standards.
8. Harry’s Savoy Grill
Wilmington’s power brokers have been sealing deals over Harry’s legendary crab cakes since the Reagan administration. The wood-paneled dining room might scream old money, but the crab cakes speak a universal language of deliciousness.
Each cake contains exactly 4.25 ounces of jumbo lump meat (I asked), bound with just enough egg and housemade mayo to hold shape. The exterior gets a quick kiss from the broiler, creating a gossamer crust that gives way to steamy perfection.
Pro tip: They’ll serve them unadorned if you request “Eastern Shore style”; no sauce, no garnish, no distractions.
9. Catch 54 Fish House
Perched on Fenwick Island with sweeping bay views, Catch 54 could easily coast on location alone. Instead, they’ve maintained a fanatical dedication to old-school crab cake perfection despite changing culinary trends.
Their signature offering contains three types of crab meat: jumbo lump, backfin, and claw; creating a textural symphony that’s become their calling card. The barely-there binder includes crushed Ritz crackers and a 1940s recipe Worcestershire sauce they special order from Baltimore.
Fourth-generation watermen supply their restaurant exclusively, keeping things deliciously local.
