Friday, 21 September 2012

Is she a TRUE "Mainer"???

The two most common things thought of when you mention "Maine" to tourists is blueberries and lobster. Well, everybody knows I married a man from Maine, but have I really become a true Maine resident yet? I was put to the test yesterday, and I'm not sure how well I did.
On Wednesday, a "Darlings customer" gave Matt four lobster. (Side note: My man LOVES lobster!) Accidentally, my man left them in the fridge at work Wednesday night, when they actually should have been brought home and cooked. Worried that they would die before he got them home Thursday night, he asked me to come in Thursday morning, pick up the lobster, and take them home and cook them. He would pick them out that night, since I haven't the foggiest how to pick out lobster. I arrived in to work, around 11:00 in the morning, with a bowl in hand to put the bag of lobster in. All was fine till I got part way home and heard them moving in the bag in the bowl over in the passenger seat of the truck. Nothing was wrong with them moving, it was just my thoughts of " I am driving in this truck by myself... being kept company by these creepy crustaceans wiggling their feet and tails around in the passenger seat beside me. (The way lobsters move CREEPS ME OUT!!!!!) I pushed all disgusting thoughts from my mind and made it home without further ado. I immediately put a huge pot of water on the stove to boil, determined that these lobsters were not going to die on my man. He was going to get the meat from all four lobsters to enjoy. The pot of water finally boiled and it was time to reach my hand in that bag and pull each lobster out with my hand and put it in the pot. Just thinking about it made a shiver run down my spine! Matt, as well as some of the other guys from the dealership had schooled me to make sure each lobster was moving before I cooked it... DO NOT COOK DEAD LOBSTER!! How was I going to make sure they were all alive? I decided that I would get out a pair of salad tongs and poke each lobster with them to see if it would move, then I would use the tongs to pick them up and put them in the pot. To my relief dismay, none of the lobster moved after much poking and prodding. I called my man, feeling bad for him, that his delicious lobster were dead, but also a bit relieved to think that I didn't have to touch these disgusting things. "Honey none of your lobster are moving" I said when Matt picked up the phone, " I don't think they survived the ride home." "Okay," he replied, "Did you pick them up and hold them upside down and kind of turn them to their side to see if any of them would move?" "No," I faintly answered, just shuddering at the thought, " but I poked and prodded them and didn't get a single movement from them." "Well, they don't really respond if you are just poking their shells. They don't care two hoots about being poked on their shells, they don't even feel it," my poor man patiently replied. "Do you know how to pick them up?" Another squeemish "No" escaped my lips. "Pick them up by the tops of their bodies..it's all shell there and they won't be able to do anything to you. Hold them upside down and kinda turn them to their side. They probably are half gone and don't have much energy, so you kind of need to wake them up by jostling them a little to see if they are still alive. If they even so much as twitch their tail or their legs, throw them in the pot of water. I will stay on the phone with you while you are doing it," were the instructions from my man. "Okay....." I started, and then stopped. " I'm sorry, Honey, you don't have to cook the lobster, I will do it when I get home," Matt sweetly and sympathetically tried to help. Determined that I could do this for my sweetheart, and not wanting the lobster to die on him, I mustered up enough courage to say " No, I'm just being silly...I can do this, I'll be fine!" "Okay, let me know how it goes. I love you!" I walked back out to the kitchen, took a look at the lobster and immediately headed to the laundry room to retrieve two plastic bags. NO WAY was I touching these things with my bare hands. I wrapped the bags around my hands and dove in for the first lobster. With a terrible face I clasped onto it's shell and pulled it from the bag hanging it upside down. It's tail and legs moved!! Quickly I dropped the lobster into the boiling pot of lobster and banged the lid onto the pot...no way was this thing getting back out on me!!! First lobster down, three more to go. By this time, the second one was already wiggling it's legs in the bag (shudder), so I dove in with my bagged hands and immediately threw that one in the pot as well. Third lobster up next. After having trouble getting hold of it because my bags were getting wet and slippery, I held it upside down, and its tail began moving. Not waiting to see if its legs were moving, I threw it in the pot to join the others. Only one more to go...this one was not moving in the bag. I picked it up, shook it poked it, everything. Alas, this one had not made it home. He met his final resting place in the woods when Matt came home from work, in the meantime I set it outside so it wouldn't stink up the house. Next conundrum: how long do I cook these things? I had been talking to some of the people at the dealership while waiting for Matt to get the lobsters from the fridge out back, and they said 12-15 minutes. However, one guy there had advised between 17-20 minutes. "I want these things to really be dead and cooked well," were my thoughts so I took the highest bid and put the kitchen timer on for 20 minutes. PHEW.... lobsters were taken care of!!!!!! Sitting down for a break, I started to think about what I must have looked like with plastic bags wrapped around my hands, and a look of sheer horror on my face; and what I must have sounded like to Matt, shuddering and whining on the phone, and I started to laugh!! "You definitely haven't become a full-fledged Mainer yet," I thought to myself, "or at least not in the lobster aspect of Maine life." The lobsters were definitely cooked after 20 minutes and my man picked them out and ate some last night, declaring them delicious. It definitely was worth it all, to see his delight when he tasted it! :-) However, I think I have some more work to do before I can claim the name of a true Mainer!!
In other news, my kitchen wasn't only busy with lobster yesterday. I harvested our peppers and pickled them, peeled and froze apples, and made some cookies for my man and the guys at work. Here are some of the fruits of my afternoons labor.



Our pepper crop I picked yesterday.
 
 
I had this jar half full from peppers I have been picking through the summer, but the harvest yesterday filled up the bottle! :-)
 
 
Cookies for Matt and the guys.
 

3 comments:

Carol Baker said...

Your a trooper!Love Ma

Vanessa McFarland said...

HaHaHa! I love your story! Wedding vows are all great but nothing says I love you like cooking lobster for him when you'd just as soon boil rats! That fact that you made yourself do it, despite of the fact you hated it, proves you are made of the right stuff! I've been wanting lobster for months now and it only made matters worse when Becca lent me her Maine cook book with a perfect lobster roll in bright color photo on the front:-)
Your cookies look so good and festive. It's great to have so many seasons to celebrate.

Laura H. said...

Oh my!! I like lobster but I have never had to cook it. Sounds interesting!!! It reminds me of cooking fresh beef heart for Aaron when I was 2 months pregnant and any weird smell made me want to hurl. The things we do for LOVE. ha ha