Posted tagged ‘lobster’

“Quiet diplomacy is far more effective than public posturing.”

August 18, 2017

Yesterday was a perfect day. The weather was warm but breezy enough to keep the heat at bay, the sun shined all day and we even found a table by the water at lunch. My sisters arrived with cake and presents. We went to lunch at one of my favorite places. As a surprise my sisters had invited my friends, and I was definitely surprised. My lobster roll was filled with huge chunks of lobster and the fries and onion rings were perfect. Just ask the gulls who snapped up the French fries we threw on the rocks. After lunch we came back to my house for cake and ice cream and presents. My sisters had chosen the best cake, mocha, and my favorite ice cream, coconut. After that, I opened my presents and was overwhelmed by the generosity of my sisters and my friends. We then sat on the deck a while chatting and laughing. I can’t imagine a better day, a better birthday.

Today is cloudy and a bit humid. The breeze is blowing the top branches of the oak trees. Rain is predicted for later. I do have to go out but not far and off the main roads. The bird feeders need to be filled again, and the fountain is empty of water. Gracie drinks much of the water away. The fountain is the perfect height for her. I fill it, she drinks it and we do this several times a day. She has a water dish on the deck but she ignores it. Dogs aren’t logical.

Quiet seems to be the order of the day after the excitement of yesterday. I don’t hear a sound: not a kid, not a car and not even a bird. I had Alexa play sixties rock, but I kept singing with the music instead of writing so I turned on the TV to MSMBC. It is still reacting to Trump’s latest diatribe so I turned that off. Instead, I watched the Food Channel with Giada who was making a Peruvian chicken dish and showing pictures of her trip to Peru. I suppose I could just turn off the TV, but I’m not in the mood for quiet, for silence. I have stuff I could do, but I don’t want to do them. I’m just fine with being a sloth, napping on the couch, wearing my comfiest clothes and going barefoot.

“A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster, salad and champagne. The only true feminine and becoming viands.”

April 6, 2014

The sun is beautiful, a welcomed sight. The cats love it and are sleeping on the floor in the sunlight coming through the front door. Their fur is hot to the touch. They are in a sun-induced deep sleep.

I once spent a half hour watching ants travel in a long, wide line. They were many, too many even to estimate their numbers. I put a leaf in the middle to see what would happen. The ants went around it then rejoined their straight line on the other side. I had to jump the line when I was leaving.

Horses always intrigued me, but I seldom rode. The one time I did I got thrown. That was no surprise. I got right back on the horse again. We made it to the stable without further incident.

When I was nineteen or twenty, I went out to eat with my parents at Mildred’s, an iconic Hyannis restaurant now gone. An empty lot is left where Mildred’s used to be. I remember that dinner because my father ordered me a drink even though I was underage. It was a daiquiri, my father’s idea of an underage woman’s drink. It was sort of gross but I drank it anyway because my father had ordered it for me.

I sometimes wonder how many people died trying and eating new things. My brother once ate red berries and had to have his stomach pumped. I was partly responsible as I had dared him. Cranberries are red and someone had to have tasted them first. In the movies, they watch the birds and eat what the birds eat. I’d stick to fish, or if I’m not near the ocean, grubs. Disgusting I know but with lots of protein.

Eating a lobster is a messy meal. The bibs aren’t silly but necessary. Lobsters squirt. My mother always ordered the lazy man’s lobster. We sort of looked down on that. She didn’t care. The rest of us took the lobster as a challenge. We wanted every tiny piece of lobster meal, even to sucking the claws for their meat. My dad was a champion lobster eater and ate joyfully with lots of ums. He wielded the cracker with precision and artistry. When he was finished, the plate was filled with empty shells. The man missed nothing. My sister and I learned from my father. We pride ourselves on our techniques and always leave a plate filled with empty shells. We are our proud to be our father’s daughters, specially when it comes to eating lobster.

“Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant?? I’m halfway through my fish burger and I realize, Oh my God….I could be eating a slow learner.”

July 5, 2013

Yesterday was a quiet July 4th for me. I watched the Sox win from the comfort of my air-conditioned house. At game time it was 92˚, and I couldn’t imagine sitting in the bleachers in all that heat. Fenway must have been awash with sweat. Last night I could hear the sounds of firecrackers from all over the neighborhood. I watched Independence Day. That and Jaws are my traditional July 4th movies, “You yell ‘Shark,’ we’ve got a panic on our hands on the Fourth of July.” Last night I watched the Boston Pops on the esplanade.  All in all it was a good day.

My father loved to fish, mostly in the winter for smelt. He also dug quahogs. He’d fill his basket, bring them home and open the shells. My mother would make stuffed quahog, put the stuffing into the shells, and we’d have some right away while she froze the rest. I loved smelt though they were so small it took several to make a meal. Baked, stuffed quahog is still a favorite of mine.

My mother didn’t serve fresh fish when we were growing up. I remember meatless Friday nights and having French fries and fish sticks for dinner. As we got older, my mother got a bit of courage and started serving fresh fish. She started with a casserole, sort of fish in disguise, and we ate it up. That casserole also had shrimp, and I remember it was heavenly. We’d ask for it often. I still make every now and then, but somehow it just doesn’t taste the same as my mother’s. I swear she had a golden touch.

I love fish and shellfish. Lobster is one of my favorites. Sometimes when I’d visit my parents for the weekend, my dad would take my mom and me out to dinner for twin lobsters. The only problem was there was nowhere to hide. Sitting beside or across from my father made you a target, and you knew there was no way to avoid the squirts as my dad devoured his lobster. He was the best lobster eater I’ve ever seen. Even the small amount of meat from the legs got eaten. He was also one of the noisiest as he sucked the meat from those legs and hmmed his way through the lobster. When he was finished only shells were left, never a trace of lobster meat.

My sister and I learned to eat lobster by watching our dad. We are also messy, and we are never quiet. We eat every piece of meat, even from the legs. We pride ourselves on our prowess in devouring a lobster. Without question, it is one of the best life lessons my dad taught us.

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