Lobsters

While we were in Boston, we ate lobsters at every opportunity. Lobster rolls, lobster bisque, lobster salad and, the best of all, boiled lobsters with a dipping sauce made with champagne.

Every time I eat lobster, my first lobster memories come up. My Dad was a Naval aviator, and to keep up his flying hours when he was assigned to duty in the Pentagon (he always hated that), he would check out an airplane and fly to some remote destination to stay in practice.

One memorable time, he flew from Anacostia Field in Washington, DC to Maine and came home with a basket full of lobsters nestled in seaweed. In those days, the largest claws were pegged at the hinge to keep them from pinching but the smaller claws often were unpegged so the lobsters came out of the basket wildly flapping their tails and snapping their claws in an impressive threat display. Sadly, it didn't work for them - they were popped green into boiling water and emerged bright red and delicious just a few minutes later.

This trip, we ate equally lively lobsters with My Beloved's brother and his wife in their home on Cape Cod. In their dreamy kitchen, they boiled an enormous pot of water and served the lobsters simply with nutcrackers and picks at each place, along with a bowl of champagne dipping sauce.

The sauce is lovely - it is lighter than drawn butter but still rich enough to complement the sweet lobster meat. I recommend you try it next time you are lucky enough to find lobsters on your plate. I'm going to try it with Dungeness crab as soon as our local season opens.

Champagne Dipping Sauce

1 bottle of dry champagne (use an inexpensive but drinkable brand)

Leafy tops of 3 ribs of celery

3 shallots, minced

3/4 cup (1-1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, slightly softened

Salt and pepper

Bring champagne, celery tops and shallots to a boil in a medium saucepan and cook over medium-high heat until reduced to 1 cup, about 20 minutes. Removed and discard celery. Reduce heat to low and slowly whisk in the butter one tablespoon at a time. Season with salt and pepper and keep warm. Serves at least 4 and perhaps 6-8.

When in New England...

When in New England, it's almost obligatory to eat lobsters. I have loved lobsters from the early days when my Dad would get in his required flight time by zooming up to Maine to buy a basket of lobsters to bring home. Callous little souls that we were, we'd have lobster races on the kitchen floor while the water came to a boil, then watch as Dad popped them headfirst into the pot and clapped on the lid.

This time, My Beloved's brother brought home the lobsters and cooked them while I made a tossed salad and melted butter with lemon juice.

On this trip to New England, I learned the trick of opening a lobster tail without scissors or a knife; straighten out the curling tail, press inward along the sides with both hands until you hear a sharp crack, then turn the tail so the stomach faces away from you and, hooking your fingers under the edge of the top shell, pull back toward yourself. Lift out the whole tail meat intact and you have a feast fit for a king.

These days, we can get Maine lobsters here on the west coast but they are never sweeter than when eaten within hours of capture and in sight of the water where they lived.

Bonus

As we were leaving the Lobster Shack, I had a brilliant idea. Do they sell lobster meat for use at home? And do they sell the excess shells?

Yes to the first question; no to the second - they use their shells to make their bisque. They do sell the picked meat, however, so I snagged half a pound of this luscious stuff and brought it home for another killer lobster meal. I like to think of it as saving energy since it means we don't have to drive back down there so soon. Yeah, right.

Anyway, we were in the mood for a salad rather than a pasta dish (wishing for spring, I think), so I set about to recreate a version of a salad that Chief Banks used to make for us back when we lived in the admiral's quarters in Pearl Harbor. When Dad retired from there, we seriously considered staging a coup and refusing to leave - the quarters were the best we'd ever had and we had loved our time in that duty station.

Chief Banks' salad was a cold curried rice salad with chunks of lobster, fresh pineapple, celery and black olives, which he served in the shell of a quartered pineapple with the spray of leaves still attached. Glorious. In Hawaii, where it's always warm, it was simply perfect, both beautiful and addictively delicious.

I actually had a fresh pineapple on hand - while I try to eat locally, every now and then something from far away calls to me, and it's often something from Hawaii. I lived there too long not to love the occasional reminder of those halcyon days. I wasn't in the mood for rice - just wanted to use the Boston lettuce in the fridge - and I was a little concerned that those flavors might overwhelm our delicate lobster, so I mixed up the confetti of ingredients in a separate bowl and called My Beloved from his football game to try it before dousing the lobster with the rest of the salad makings. He loved the mixture of tastes but agreed that it might be too much to mix in with the lobster, so I strained out the sauce that resulted from all those ingredients and mixed the lobster with that, sprinkling the chunky leftovers around the outside of the lettuce leaves to enjoy separately from the meat.

If I do say so myself, it was killer. The light, lemony curry sauce enhanced the rich meat and the hint of heat from the hot sauce we added was a piquant reminder that spicy can be good. Chief Banks would be proud.

Lobster Salad

Four butter lettuce leaves, rinsed and dried
1/2 pound fresh lobster meat
1 Tbs mayonnaise (da kine blue lid)
2 Tbs kefir
juice of 1/2 tart lemon
5 drops of jalapeño hot sauce, or to taste (Chilebrown, you listening?)
1 tsp curry powder
1/4 cup minced fresh pineapple
3 Tbs minced or sliced ripe olives (not the Euro kind for this - they are too strong)
3 Tbs minced celery
2 Tbs finely sliced green onion
1 Tbs minced red onion

Mix everything but the lettuce and the lobster together in a bowl, thinning the mayo and kefir with the lemon juice and adding the hot sauce drop by drop until it reaches the desired firepower, then adding the rest. When all are mixed, strain off the resulting "dressing" and mix that with the lobster. Distribute the dressed lobster over the lettuce leaves and sprinkle the leftover "foodfetti" around the mound of lobster meat. Dive in.

Returning To Port

We don't really need an excuse to drive down to Redwood City, where our gustatorial Mecca is located. Behind a defunct Baker's Square and sandwiched in next to a nail salon, the Old Port Lobster Shack exists in humble surroundings for such a rich eating experience.

We've eaten there before and it is always wonderful. This time, we met new friends Laura and Doug there to laugh and chat our way through lobster rolls and my latest addiction from there, lobster bisque.

We love the ambiance of the Lobster Shack, very casual and homey. Picnic tables are covered with red checked cloths and supplied with galvanized buckets containing plenty of Westminster oyster crackers (the best!). The specials are chalked on a blackboard and you order at the counter before taking a seat. We sat next to the lobster tank this time and I suppose I should have felt sorry for the captive denizens, but all I could think about was how good the poor dears were going to taste.

Served in a huge mug (this is the Lobster Shack's idea of a "cup" of soup), the lobster bisque was simply Out Of This World. The soup base was as tasty and full of lobster flavor as the nice chunks of lobster held suspended in its creamy, pale orange depths. All four of us tasted it and all four rolled our eyes in appreciation. From the first sip to the last scraping of the bottom of the cup, it sang of the sea.

One of my life's greatest pleasures is finding other couples with whom we have lots in common and with whom we have a marvelous time. This lunch was one of those. We laughed a lot, we recounted fun stories, we shared pictures of our obviously spoiled dogs - kindred spirits! We don't need any reason other than the food to sail back to the Old Port but these new buddies add to the incentive.

Naked Lust

This week, My Beloved's sales manager called him and "asked" him to deliver some samples the manager would need next week to a location about an hour's drive one way from our house. This request came on a Friday afternoon (and, by the way, MB had asked this knucklehead weeks ago if he would need these samples so MB could have taken them there in his normal work travels) and the samples are needed on Monday morning. The implication was clear; you must give up half a weekend day to do this "favor" for the boss. Grrrr!

In order to turn this task into a fun outing, My Beloved invited me to ride along. We left the samples at the Millbrae Railroad Museum (never mind why) and got a tour of their Pullman car while we were there. When I was about six years old, my mother, sister and I crossed the country on a train and we had our own Pullman compartment. It was fun to explore again the ingeniously designed folding sink, toilet, beds, etc. and to recall the adventure of crossing from car to swaying car and eating in the dining car. Each evening, the Pullman steward would come in and, using his big key, lower our freshly made bunks for us. As we neared Utah, which was a "dry state" in those days, my mother was warned by our porter that, if she wanted a drink before dinner that evening, she'd have to order it before we crossed the Utah border. All this was high adventure for us and I've never forgotten falling asleep between crisp white sheets to the clickety-clack of the wheels on the rails with the whistle blowing in the night.

Since we were down that way, we also made a return visit to the Old Port Lobster Shack in Redwood City. If you've never been, you really must go. I've heard that they now have a location in North Beach, too, but I haven't visited that one. The original has a huge tank of live lobsters and a fun-funky maritime theme - for example, the restrooms are labeled "Buoys" and "Gulls." They do a land office business in there, being open from 11am to "when we stop making money." I've been tempted by lots of items on their menu but I always order the same thing, the Naked Lobster Roll.

Overflowing with large chunks of fresh lobster, the bun is authentic (I've heard they actually fly them in from Maine) and lightly grilled on the outside as a crispy counterpoint to all that luscious, seductive lobster. You can get a lobster roll with lobster salad made with mayo if you prefer, but the plain lobster always gets my vote. There are cole slaw and French fries in the basket and a little cup of rich, clarified butter to pour over your naked roll if you wish but, let's face it, it's really all about the shellfish. Man, is that ever good!

Good enough, in fact, to smooth over my ruffled feathers and make me think that MB's boss isn't such a bad guy after all, if his requests mean a trip the the Lobster Shack.

Saucy Ravioli

I was late getting home but My Beloved had, blessedly, stopped at the farmer's market and found that Home Maid was there selling lobster ravioli. Being the thoughtful and hungry man that he is, he purchased a box of them and carried them home in triumph.

Lobster in the middle of the week and for no special reason. Is it any wonder that I'm nuts about this guy?

We shelled some fresh peas, popping pods together while Cora dashed around snapping up the wayward few. I made a quick and simple sauce of Greek yogurt thinned with a splash of light cream and gently warmed it, infusing it with fresh lemon thyme from the pot garden outside the front door. In less time than it takes to tell, we sat down to a sumptuous dinner of plump raviolis gently sparked with the tangy/creamy/lemony flavorful sauce.

Champagne Celebration

We skipped our New Year's eve celebration in favor of keeping Cora company in case the fireworks startled her. We need not have worried. We all watched the ball come down in Times Square and slept peacefully through the rest of the night.

So, when My Beloved read about $20.09 (get it?) lobster dinners at the Hotel Mac, it seemed a fine time to have our celebration just a few days late.

We started with a split of French champagne to accompany our lobster dinners and, because it was a Friday, they were having a half-price special, bringing the price of a $38 split to a reasonable $19 or so. This is nice champagne, too, round and soft with zillions of tiny bubbles to tickle ones fancy.

The Hotel Mac seems to specialize in the kind of nostalgic dishes that I remember from the '50s and early '60s. It's a great place for steaks, chops and "surf and turf" style eating, except the vegetables are always perfectly cooked, something I don't recall from my salad days.

My Beloved notes that his escargot on mushroom caps were among the best he had ever tasted; I'm a little squeamish about snails but I can attest to the excellence of the ocean of butter they were cooked in, strongly laced with minced garlic and fresh chopped herbs. Dipping their nicely sour French bread into the butter was more than enough appetizer for me.

Our lobster tails were broiled and served on top of the shells, accompanied by green beans with shallots and mashed potatoes that had been lightly fried so they were crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Drawn butter - that's what it's really all about, right? - with a big squeeze of fresh lemon juice and you have a New Year's feast fit for a king.

This special continues this weekend both Saturday and Sunday (although the champagne won't be half price), so if you're in the area, on a budget and looking for a sumptuous dinner, I can recommend the Hotel Mac.

New England Lobster

We didn't know the bar was notorious. All we knew was that it was lunchtime and we were in Old Saybrook, CT with no clear idea of where to eat, so we pulled into this roadside tavern and ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, the $15.00 lobster roll.

We were in New England, after all, and what else does one order in New England except lobster?

It was worth every penny, a nicely grilled soft roll simply stuffed with huge chunks of hot, fresh lobster and nestled up against some nice, crispy-creamy French fries and a little dish of the traditional cole slaw. It was a truly sumptuous lunch that tasted distinctly of the sea.

We weren't bothered by the motorcycles parked outside nor the guys in leather jackets hunched silently over their drinks at the bar while a sports channel showed endless clips of football hits and basketball stretches. We sat outside on the glass porch and enjoyed sunshine as well as the bandy-legged, no-nonsense waitress in Bermuda shorts and running shoes who clearly had worked there since God was a child.

It was only when My Beloved's sister exclaimed when we told her where we ate that we realized we were lucky to be in a rented car so respectable people wouldn't know we were in that bar early in the day, doing who-knows-what in that place!

Lobstah Dinnah

About the last place you'd expect to find a sumptuous lobster dinner is a little out-of-the-way strip mall in Redwood City, CA.; one of the few things the East Coast does better than California is growing lobsters. Luckily, I am able upon occasion to subdue my guilt feelings at eating something so not local as lobster on the San Francisco peninsula.

Feeling frisky, My Beloved and I each ordered the Naked (gasp!) Lobster Roll, which comes with nearly an entire lobster's worth of meat (oh, my!) on a fresh bun that has been crisped on the grill before they add the large chunks of lobster. It was served with a side of cole slaw that had chopped raisins in it (interesting!) and a little container each of mayo (boo!) and clarified butter (yay!). "Naked" in this case means not dressed at all - you just pour as much butter as you like over the hefty chunks of lobster, open wide and try in vain to fit a bite of this huge sandwich into your mouth. Chew thoughtfully, as the taste of fresh Maine lobster tickles your taste buds and closes your eyelids in sheer, luxurious delight.

There was no room for dessert, almost a first for MB and me. The $20 price tag for this sandwich was eye-opening only until the first bite, when I found myself nodding and saying, "Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, worth every penny for a wonderful lobstah dinnah!"

*By the way, today is the anniversary of Julia Child's birthday so raise a glass in her honor wherever you are! And, enjoy this interplay between her and Jacques Pepin as they make a Pain Bagnat!

Lovers' Moons

My Beloved and I have a long history with what we call the Mystery Restaurant - when we were reconnecting after almost 30 years apart, we kept trying to get to this restaurant but would end up mysteriously - ahem - not getting there.

Now that we are old married folks of many years, we get there fairly often and have never had a bad meal in 12 years. Its real name is Salute and it's in the Marina Bay area of Richmond. It has a beautiful marina view with San Francisco silhouetted across the bay, quirky waiters and solidly good food.

The last time we made it there, I ordered the lobster mezzelune di aragosta, generous half moon raviolis filled with lobster and ricotta cheese, and presented in this attractive fan with red and green accents. The waiter told us his life story charmingly while taking our order and the moon was full and bright that night. While I loved all the times we tried to get to Salute before we actually made it, I'm happy that we finally did.

Lobstah Pahty

Our friend Jack landed a great new job necessitating a celebration and, because we know he LOVES lobster and he has an enormous appetite, we ordered a New England clambake in a can from B & M Clambake Company in Rhode Island. This is the exact opposite of eating locally, but it was a big hit.

The Fed Ex shipment arrived right on time (you must cook it the day it arrives as there are live mussels, clams and lobsters inside), we read the amusingly written directions, set the table with the lobster crackers, tablecloth, silly lobster bibs and picks provided, added water to the can and popped it on the stove to steam for about half an hour while I melted an inordinate amount of butter and sliced some lemon wedges.

We opened the can to find for each person a net bag of sweet steamer clams, one of meaty, wonderful mussels, another containing corn on the cob and yet another with new potatoes, onions and chorizo sausage, not to mention a small lobster apiece, all packed in seaweed for authentic flavor. The broth at the bottom of the pot was simply amazing, perhaps the best part of all!

We tied on the goofy bibs printed with big red lobsters and lemons, cracked and pried, laughed and munched. Jack's not a mussel man so he tried to trade his for more lobster from his daughter but she's not that dumb! Everyone made more than one trip back to the groaning platters until our fingers were sticky with seafood and slick with butter. I saved the broth and will attempt a bouillabaisse when the weather cools down. There may have been an onion or two left and perhaps a potato - but, yes, we ate the whole thing and loved every buttery bite. A fitting celebration for a successful pal!