Lobsters. Mm mm...butter-dipped, succulent warm meat. When we first moved here to Naples in 2002, Jen wanted to celebrate our first nightby taking the four of us to a restaurant,which I won't name. The advertised special was a 1# lobster for 16.00. We ordered 4.When the plates arrived, we each looked atthe anorexic lobsters sitting on our huge white plates--kind of like an island with only one palm tree... I was thinking, where is it?
I'd never seen a smaller tail in all of my lobster days-- which amounts to three over my lifetime. I'd seen bigger tails on shrimp.
I wasn't sure how to attack it. I wasn't even sure if it wasn't just a faux lobster-- one in disguise, or only the skeleton of one--minus the meat. We were all so hungry, so I prodded and picked, and saw some disgusting green and gray muck that lookedlike it came from a space creature's guts. How would I know that...?
We all managed to get no more than a 1/4 cup's worth.Jen was disappointed, but her intentions were sweet. I haven't had a lobster since.
Jen's been in town, from Key West. She and Paul went fishing for a few days in Stuart. Her fella, Vince, has a bucket of lobsters fromlobstering in the Keys. The lobsters are calling, so Jen's heading back to K W this afternoon. I'm suddenly having visions of warm, sweet, butter-dripping meat...