August 12, 2013

lobster boil

TWELFTH AVENUELast weekend, my parents’ friends invited us to a good old-fashioned lobster boil at their house up in Battle Ground, WA. Lured by the promise of fresh seafood and great conversation, we grabbed a bottle of oaky chardonnay, piled ourselves into the car and trekked across state lines for what was one of the greatest meals I’ve ever experienced.


We arrived at Andy and Julie’s and were immediately greeted with yummy drinks and appetizers, which got the party swinging (pun egregiously intended). While the adults maturely conversed over cocktails, I stole away for a little childhood fun, you know, to work up my appetite.

TWELFTH AVENUEAfter eating our fill of antipasto, we moved onto the Maine lobster event (haha man, am I hilarious or what?). I was feeling quite plucky after a round of very strong vodka lemonades, so I bonded with my dinner a bit before sending him to his doom.


TWELFTH AVENUEWhen the time came to say our goodbyes, I clutched my crustacean, wished him well, and plunged him into the pot of boiling water. So long, old friend!

TWELFTH AVENUEHe emerged 15 minutes later sporting a delicious shade of red. Just look at those plump claws full of succulent lobster meat.

TWELFTH AVENUETWELFTH AVENUEAndy set about with the initial cracking while we looked on, eyes wide and mouths watering.


TWELFTH AVENUEWithin minutes, we were seated round an outdoor dining table teeming with plates of piping hot lobster, glasses of chilled wine and big baskets of fragrant rosemary bread. We cracked and pulled and groaned with delight as we dunked each decadent bite of lobster meat into pools of lemon butter nestled over tea lights (so crucial that the butter be kept hot throughout the meal). I ate until I was stuffed, and then I ate some more. I couldn’t bear to leave one mouthful of lobster on my plate.

TWELFTH AVENUEWhen we had eaten every bite of lobster and mopped up the last of the butter with bread, we carried our bulging bellies down to the fire pit and settled in around a rip-roaring blaze. We told stories well into the night, warmed by the glow of the fire and the company of great friends. Food, friends and family – doesn’t get much better than that.