Lobster Carnage

Having heard some fellow Canadians were in trouble, I, being Canadian myself, wanted to help. Various newscasts, newspapers and other news outlets have recently reported on the plight of Canadian fisherman, especially lobstermen, due to the huge drop in demand thanks to the current recession. Lobster bakes, dinner parties and the like are all being encouraged to help buoy the price of the crustaceans.

Last night, IronMan and I had 10 friends over for what amounted to a lobster massacre. If we had lined them up in a Chicago garage on Valentine’s Day, we couldn’t have had a higher body count. Thankfully the weather decided to cooperate so we could dine outside and not have to worry about the flying shell bits and butter running all about, although in the morning I started to think I should have listened to the voices in my head that told me to build an ark.

A couple people brought lobsters that had been steamed in the store and just needed a quick “dip in the pool”, as we ended up calling it, before eating. The rest however we still kicking when they jumped in with both feet – so to speak.

Kitkat apparently though, is a lobster whisperer. He showed us that if you hold a lobster claws down and rub the tail back down under lobster, the thing will fall asleep no problem. Then the claws and legs don’t try to grab the edge of the pot as they go in. I’ve always thought that would be the way to go….. off to sleep and then you just don’t wake up. Now, I am not saying I want anyone to come over in the middle of the night and chuck me in a pot of boiling water……

Aside from getting them in the pot, the other challenge was buying them. Having picked out our dinner, the fishmonger was trying to weigh them, but they kept trying to get off the scale so the price wouldn’t settle. I felt mildly guilty seeing them stacked on top of each other knowing they would soon be meeting their doom. But then I reminded myself that it was really my patriotic duty.

The lady ordering before us only wanted the tails and claws for her dinner. Next thing I knew, the noted appendages were ripped off and the torso with its eight little legs were on the counter twitching away. I almost cancelled the dinner right there. But I guess if I saw the way chickens, rabbits, cows, pigs, deer etc. met their demise so I could eat, I wouldn’t feel so good either.

CJ foolishly named hers Charlie and felt extra bad when he went into the steamer. At first he probably liked it…”ahhhhh, this is a nice sauna”. Then it turned very Murder She Wrote and/or Remington Steele when someone jammed the door and turned up the steam.

Kitkat and Kerouac decided to abstain from the lobster feast and settled on mussels instead. And when I say mussels, I mean jumbo hotdogs with every kind of condiment on the go PLUS real bacon. I tried to convince them to boil the hotdogs in the lobster water, but it was a losing battle. Apparently there is etiquette when it comes to hotdogs. Who knew? IronGirl reminded me that we used to just wrap a hotdog, bun and all, in a paper towel and microwave the thing for about and minute. Yummy!

All the butter (and maybe the wine) have left me feeling a little, well, greasy quite frankly, this morning. However, I do feel better having done my little part to bolster a Canadian industry.