Hummerparty*

I just recently learned that the German word for 'lobster' is "der Hummer". That means that insofar as you can explain the concept of a lobster bake to a bunch of Germans, the word for that is "Hummerparty". I'll pause here so you can insert your own joke. Okay, ready?

I didn't grow up eating lobster, because that was too bougeois for my Guido family. In fact, I don't know if my mother ever ate lobster. I would guess not. I was in college the first time I ate lobster, despite how prevalent this ugly crustacean bastard is in the Ocean State. I found the experience to be rather ... emotionally draining. Typically you first encounter the lobster when he is still alive. Then the next time you see him, he is a healthy red color, but he is dead and on your plate. And his head is still on, including his eyes. This is something I could really do without, God help me, Michael Pollan, who, if there is any justice in this world, would take me out behind the woodshed and put a bullet between my eyes. But being at the top of the food chain has its perks and I give thanks for that every morning.

In addition to staring into the lifeless eyes of your dinner, you've got to work it girl, if you want to get at that sweet, sweet, meat. Grab your nut crackers, pincers, forceps, etc..., crack the exoskeleton, poke around the gonads, put thinks in your mouth, suck on them and spit them out again. Why do we do this? Because lobster is delicious. But you know what else is delicious? Lobster ravioli, lobster tacos, fancy lobster fusion amuse-bouches when the company credit card is picking up the tab, and these items don't require me to take a Valium before hand to get through the ordeal. But on our big "Rhode Trip" the Germans wanted some good Rhode Island seafood, and specifically Der Man wanted to try lobster, which he'd never tasted before. I was in such a festive mood I ordered Baked Stuffed Lobster which arrived plus bread crumbs and minus the the head, so it suited me well.

German attacks lobster. Later opened up second front on corn on the cob and potato salad. Surrender followed soon after.

Der Man confessed to me that he was afraid he'd go to a business lunch where they served lobster and he wouldn't know how to eat it and he'd make a fool of himself. I told him that probably would not happen in New York since observant Jews do not eat shellfish and in a business luncheon setting, they would probably serve something that everyone can eat. The Germans looked at me like I was making this up. And now, for some frosting to celebrate these Rhode Island posts: Rhode Island is Famous for You. (Thanks Beta, for reminding me this mp3 is online)


*Language lesson or shameless ploy to improve traffic? You decide.