Lobsterland
Thursday, November 18, 2010 at 04:03PM
view from upstairs windowRecently, I had the chance to visit an old friend from my years in New York City. She now lives in the peaceful, charming historic seaside village of Southport, Connecticut. It's worlds apart from the teeming city, hard to believe it's only 45 minutes from Manhattan. Gay's house and its views are spectacular, full of light and happiness and of course, the beautiful sea. Having been landlocked, pretty much forever, it would take me less than one second to get used to life on the sea, watching the pelicans and cormorants hanging out around the dock. I didn't get to see any parrots, but Gay swears there's a resident flock in the area. As an avid birder, this made me quite jealous,
fishing and everywhere the fishing is good, even along the narrow rock outcroppings and shoreline.
Gay with the babies: Lulu and Winnie
balmy day on the beach
waterside dining
Gay wanted to show me her part of the world, and asked if I wanted to go for lobster rolls. I blankly looked at her pretty face and said, "Great! what's a lobster roll?" Mind you, I had lived smack in the middle of New York City for 5 years, and never heard of such a thing. She explained that it was a kind of open-faced sandwich of sorts, a hollowed out roll, topped with huge chunks of mayonnaise-y lobster. Suddenly, I felt weak with hunger, so we dashed to her car and sped along the coastline to one of her local haunts, The Mansion Clam House (http://www.mansionclamhouse.com). Situated right on the edge of the water, we clattered into the parking lot, paved with oyster shells instead of gravel. It was a no-frills, classic New England clapboard building and side entrance. Now, I'm one of those people who can't bear to see lobsters imprisoned in restaurant death tanks with rubber bands around their claws. Often, the tank is the first thing you see when you go inside, and this restaurant entrance is no exception. I instantly diverted my gaze to the dining room, but noted the sound of the death tank's gurgling pump. But undaunted, I eagerly followed Gay to our table, feeling no hesitation or guilt--none--about walking past these hapless creatures that were about to be boiled to death. We ordered, they went to the happy lobsterland in the sky, and we ate til we were miserable. Happily, these lobster rolls were mayonnaise free, perfectly cooked with a touch of butter and wine, and I mean PERFECTLY. 
Lobster is a true gift from the sea, and a well prepared lobster roll is just about as close as we humans can get to heaven. Beautiful.
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