Summer Solstice is Carnage!

Last night my friends, Drew and Jenna, hosted grilled lobster night with me cooking. Truth be told, while I like lobster, I’m much more of a crab kind of guy. Better flavor, more versatile to cook with, blah, blah, blah. But it was the first hot day of the summer so grilled lobster seemed to be the appropriate plat du jour. I vaguely remembered seeing some cooking show where the guy split these live lobsters down the middle, slathered the insides with some sort of concoction and grilled them so I thought I’d do the same thing. It seemed to be a more humane way to kill them than dumping them in a pot. As I mentioned last week, it kinda sucks to deal with the crustacean death throes when you’re trying to entertain. I know some people will just have the fish monger steam their lobsters so they won’t have to deal with it, but the critters are still clanking around whether their in an industrial steamer or on your stovetop. Though I’ve never slaughtered a cow, my feeling is that anything you eat you should be prepared to kill. So I was mentally steeled to deal out some lobster death. Luckily, Drew, who had split lobsters before, offered to slaughter while I slathered. Thanks, Drew.

Lobster Slather 2 sticks of butter, softened 3 cloves of garlic, pressed or minced ½ onion, minced (or a big shallot) Juice of a lemon Chopped Italian parsley Chopped fresh thyme Salt and pepper Mash everything together.

It turns out that lobsters are hardy and obstinate creatures. Even split down the middle with their claws removed, lobsters continue to squirm. Their antennae twitch and their mouths flutter, as if gasping for air. It made slathering them with butter feel particularly savage. Post fact, I learned that some believe that lobsters are aware even when they are missing their appendages and cut in half. Oops. Between the initial carnage and me discovering that fact, I grilled the then unmoving lobsters and they were delicious, but I couldn't help but feel pangs of guilt in my lobster-filled gut. Later, I also learned that most lobsters go through this insane journey from Nova Scotia to Louisville (UPS’ hub city), where they are housed in a sort of lobster motel until they are overnighted to some restaurant or fish market where they flop around in a murky tank awaiting their torturous demise. I felt like the Hannibal Lecter of the ocean floor. I researched into other killing methods that were supposed to be "humane," but there was no definitive, painless way to murder a lobster. I even looked into the CrustaStun, a $4,000 gizmo that kills lobsters with 110 volts in five seconds. But then I thought, how big is the difference between five seconds of electrocution and 20 seconds of boiling water? It’s not like the lobster’s going to suffer from post traumatic stress disorder; either way it’s dead. And there’s even some debate whether lobsters even have a brain with which to feel pain. Sure they respond to physical stimuli, but, heck, so do plants. And wait a second - if I cut them in half, which half feels pain? I started to feel a little less homicidal (lobstercidal?). I mean, what's the big deal? While writing this, I’ve swatted three flies without remorse and isn’t a crustacean kind of like an overgrown underwater insect? Wait. By that logic, flies should be on my list of gastronomical treasures. Hm. On that note, it’s unlikely I’ll be eating lobster again any time soon.