This is not a story of finding a soul mate or being turned into a lobster. This is a story our quest to make lobster rolls. Not just any lobster roll either. We wanted the lobster rolls that we ate while visiting Boston last summer. I read a news article about how lobsters are really cheap right now because Maine didn’t have any tourists. So, Michael and I went to Whole Paycheck and bought three lobster tails. We took them home and made very disappointing lobster rolls. There just wasn’t enough lobster meat and the flavors in the dressing from an online recipe I used just wasn’t quite right.

The next week we found ourselves watching the Bon Appetit channel on Ruku. The young chef on the screen said “Today, we’re making lobster rolls starting with live lobsters.” Michael and I sat riveted to the TV as we watched this guy cleanly and efficiently dispatch two lobsters, steam them, remove the cooked meat from the shells and mix up the perfect dressing for traditional Boston lobster rolls. We looked at each other, both of us realizing at the same time that our first attempt at making lobster rolls was all wrong. We had to start with live lobsters. That weekend, we traveled to the Asian food market and purchased two very large, live lobsters. They wrapped them up in a brown paper bag and we took them home, placing them into the fridge until it was time for dinner.

Let me start by saying that preparing dinner that night involved a lot of screaming. It started when I pulled the bag from the fridge. The bottom of the paper bag split open and the lobsters fell to the kitchen floor, legs wiggling and tails flapping. The two of us managed to pick the lobsters up and get them into the sink. Then I placed the first one on a cutting board. The chef had made it look so simple. Stab the knife into the base of the lobster head and the draw the knife down, splitting the head. Easy peasy. I watched a video for a quick refresher while my lobster slowly scooted backwards off the cutting board. I grabbed the lobster, placing him back on the cutting board, and while holding it still with my right hand and I pressed the tip of the knife to base of its head and pressed down. The knife didn’t go in. Lobster shells are really hard. I looked at Michael and said “I’m not sure I have the physical strength to do this.”

Now, it is important to say here that Michael’s arm is broken. We thought that it wasn’t, but the swelling and pain did not subside a week after his accident. He went to a bone and joint specialist who told Michael that he has three broken fingers and an elbow fractured in two places. He has splints on the fingers, but no cast on his arm. The doctor told Michael to not lift anything heavier than a toothbrush, pencil or fork. If he does everything right, he will not have to have surgery to repair the elbow. So, Michael with his broken arm, takes my place at the counter. He takes the knife and stabs into the lobster’s head. A black liquid then starts shooting out of the head and we started screaming. Michael picked up the lobster, its tail twitching, and threw it into our steamer pot. We stood there in the kitchen, both of us shaken and a little traumatized and then we looked at the second lobster still in the sink. Without saying a word, Michael picked it up, repeated the stabbing technique which went a little bit more smoothly and dumped the lobster into the pot. It was only after the deed was done that Michael said “You should have been recording all of that.” I didn’t even take pictures. Michael had just committed murder and I was an accomplice. Did we need video evidence of our crime?

We did manage to recreate the lobster rolls we had eaten in Boston. Actually, they turned out perfectly. Prior to this event, Michael and I had had a conversation about food. I said that I didn’t think I should eat anything I am not willing to kill on my own. Like, I could not kill a pig or a cow. I could kill and have killed a fish. I could not kill an octopus. They have nine brains and are smarter than humans. I said “I bet I could kill a lobster. They’re just giant bugs.” That turns out to not be true. Now that I think about it, I’m not all that good at killing regular land bugs. When met with a large spider in my house, I just look at it and say “I leave you alone and you leave me alone.” We come to understanding and just keep our distance from each other.

I guess this means that I can’t eat lobsters now.