Wednesday, June 19, 2013


Our local grocery store had a sale on lobsters, so I told my husband about it.  He came back with two lobsters, one three and a half pounder and the other, a six pounder!!!!
I never thought I would say this, but we couldn't eat them both.  We ate the smaller one, and then saved the bigger lobster.  We made lobster salad the next day.  It was wonderful.  Whenever I eat lobster, I think about the time when my cousin and her husband met us in Cape Cod, and we went to a clambake.  It was an "all-you-can-eat" buffet.  We looked at everything that was offered, but all we were interested in was lobster.  We each ate three lobsters.  And that was all.  I don't think any of us could even look at a lobster after that.  It was probably at least a year or two before we could even think about eating lobster.  But I will always like lobster.  

Many years ago, when my friend, Ginny, was living in Belize, I visited her, and we took a boat out to Caye Calker to visit some of her friends.  The father caught lobsters for the restaurants, and he brought the smaller ones home.  His wife served us 13 lobster small lobster tails for dinner!  Their kids were tired of eating lobster, so they didn't join us.  I don't think Ginny and I could eat all of those 13 lobster tails either. 

My love of lobster started at an early age.  My parents told me this story.  They said they took us out to a restaurant, and when the waitress asked me what I wanted, at age 4, I said, "I'll have lobster."  My dad, horrified, said, "She'll have a hamburger." 

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