Lobster Love

I am a lobster snob. I only like a lobster cooked outside, actually if it isn't a Maine lobster I'll probably wait until I get to Maine. How did that happen?

My mother loved lobster and wasn't real discriminating about the lineage of the lobster. She also didn't care if the creature was boiled, steamed, cracked, not cracked. But she did know how to totally clean out the innards of a lobster. No meat escaped her search.

I love the silence that descends upon the table when everyone is deeply committed to the exploration and eating of the lobster. I love the strain attending the breaking of the lobster shell.

Tonight I sat with two other lobster aficionados and enjoyed the seriousness of our pursuit -- the release of the lobster's treasure trove of meat.