Last night I partook of a lobster roll.  I made it myself.  I have eaten lobster rolls in Rye, NH and Boston and near Salisbury Beach, Mass.   Those are the most notable ones.  Last night I decided to give it a lash on my own.  Well, my dear wife, Carrie, did raise a recipe that we followed to some degree.  Really it is about 3 things for me:  a good roll, good lobster, and plenty of butter.  I am not a fan of salt for sure.  I did appreciate a few grains on the cooked lobster meat.

There is a great store in Pittsfield, Mass not far from where we are staying.  It is like a Harris Teeter, if any are familiar with one of those.  It might be a scale of two better.  Regardless, we don’t have stores like this back home.  Market 32 by Price Chopper is the name of the store.  It was a Price Chopper that that got a face lift and offers more unique foods than the normal Price Chopper.  The seafood selection is great.  The cheese selection is obscene.  The vegetables and fruits are plenty.  There is also a deli that offers so many unique cakes and pies and desserts that they probably had to get a mop out and wipe the drool that escaped my mouth thanks to overactive taste buds.  Market 32 is the store.

The lobster is fresh.  That is a key.  The bread I used is a New England Roll.  The butter we used was from Maine.

Fresh tail and claw meat.

Such a proficient slicer the camera can’t keep up with my lightning fast motion.  Either that or a camera is not made to follow a knife moving that slow?

The butter…not the whole stick…is applied liberally to the pan toasting the bun and to the lobster pan as well.

When properly toasted and warmed…you have:

And now it is time, as Tim Mullins would say, to GET IT!

Speaking of getting it.  On a visit to Old Forge in Lanesborough, I got it again.  No, not a lobster roll.  The Wild Mushroom Ravioli that I have made mention in previous posting here.

It is exquisite.

I bet this stuff is too.  Most will not believe that I let this pass…but it was fun taking a picture of.

Two nights ago Carrie and I channeled our inner acrylic painter selves.  It is a good thing I did not think about Edward Hopper while I was doing this or I would have frozen up.  It worked out great.  Our teacher, Michelle, did a wonderful job.  The fact that you can reasonably make out what I was trying to paint is nothing short of a miracle.  My flowers?  Well they probably grow in Australia somewhere.  Carrie’s flowers…they are beautiful.  I was the only one in the class of about twenty to put a bird in their painting.  Either way, it worked out.  We had a good time and something that was a blank canvas is something we can take home and talk about for years to come.  20 bucks can rarely, if ever, offer more than that.

Pardon me know as I go eat a piece of sausage pizza and contemplate Picasso.

Speaking the artistic rights.

Danny Johnson