Image via Wikipedia
We love lobster, but prepare it at home only occasionally. It's one of the only times you have to kill something that is alive to eat it. So we substitute lobster ravioli or splurge and eat it out once in a while.
My wife and son wanted to take me out to a restaurant in the city for Father's Day, but the couple of places I was interested in were booked solid. So I asked my wife to buy lobsters at ShopRite in Englewood for dinner last night.
She came home with two lobsters weighing a total of nearly 8 pounds ($5.99 a pound with a PriceClub card). In the past, we have had trouble finding pots large enough for big lobsters, but I knew that for Thanksgiving last year, I bought a big, rectangular turkey roaster with a cover that would swallow the large crustaceans.
The lobsters had been packed in a plastic bag, which I had to cut open. They seemed to be rearing away from my rubber-gloved hand, and the big claws on each were nearly as big as my hand. I had to lift them out by their claws -- I couldn't get my hand in the thick rubber glove around the bodies.
I've seen lobsters dispatched with the thrust of a knife; I can't stomach that. The water in the roaster was boiling, but wasn't deep enough for me to plunge the lobsters in head first, as the instructions on the bag recommend. I placed them inside in opposite directions, and quickly put on the cover. Thrashing went on for a few minutes and then all I noticed was steam escaping.
I cooked them for 20 minutes.
We ate our lobsters with linguine in oil and garlic and crushed red pepper, with fresh, chopped parsley from the garden. There was lots of delicious lobster meat that needed only a squeeze of fresh lemon juice. I also dipped some in the pasta's garlicky oil. I drank wine. My wife and son were delighted. The kitchen was a mess.