No self respecting Mainer should be without one.
I can’t eat them any more….
But at least now I can wear them.
Though not nearly as well as Patrick Stewart.
Tag Archives: lobster
The Farnsworth Art Museum, Rockland, Maine…. A. Wyeth, a fiber crow and some claws.
This is a place I’ve always wanted to visit but never have… so on a rainy, blustery day a while back? We did.
The Farnsworth is famous in these parts for it’s extensive collection of Maine artists….
With the Wyeth’s being front and center.
I’ve always liked Andrew, and on the day we visited there was a special exhibit of his work from WW1.
Art is a strange thing, and totally subjective… so what moves me might leave you flat.
But hey, it’s my blog. My choice.
This simple painting of a helmet filled with pine cones for example.
You’ll have to pardon the reflections in a lot of these shots…. it’s nearly impossible to avoid with the bright gallery lights and glass.
While not known for his portraiture…
This series of photos showing Wyeth at work was quite interesting.
As was the case filled with drawings he did at the age of 8.
Huh…
I’m pretty sure my 8 year old artwork looked something like this:
The next gallery showcased Wyeth’s Maine pieces.
And trust me, they really capture the feel of our coast.
There was also a section of these…
Halloween!
Which looked much better without the reflection of the paintings from the other side of the room.
But you get the idea.
Nothing says Halloween in Maine like a skeletal ship’s captain.
Making our way through the museum we found a fiber artist….
Who had some unusual installations…
Proving that art comes in all shapes and sizes.
Down the stairs and into the main gallery…
A tribute to Maine’s agrarian culture…
And it’s crustaceans.
Yes, that is a marvelous pile of blown glass lobster claws.
It should be noted that while I grew up strolling happily around MOMA in New York, the husband has absolutely no tolerance for modern art.
And I have to admit….. watching him puzzle over what he’s looking at is half the fun of visiting museums together.
I keep telling him that it’s more important to experience art, to feel it… than to understand it.
But he just wrinkles his nose and says….
“Yes. But what the hell is it?”
There were a few Rockwell Kent pieces….
Whose work has sold for hundreds of thousands of dollars.
As well as this:
A table to draw a self portrait.
Which made me very glad we hadn’t run into this fellow.
To be continued….
Things I like today…. part 8.
I like….
These!
Have you tried them yet?
Well, what are you waiting for?
Go!
I like….
Taking a break on our deck after mowing the lawn a few weeks ago, and having a friend show up.
I thought for sure he’d run when he saw me. But he took a good look, deemed me no immediate threat and happily settled in for a nap.
Until the husband opened the door and scared him off.
I like….
Reading that a lobsterman in Falmouth caught a rare 1 in 100 million cotton candy blue lobster….
Took a picture… and donated him to an aquarium where he never has to worry about being captured or eaten again.
I like…
Amazing sunrises in our backyard.
I like….
Driving home along country roads this time of year and seeing the trees bursting with color.
Autumn in New England is hard to beat.
Life is good!
Pepper’s Landing
A restaurant review in which we make cocks out of mocks.
I’ll explain later…
Pepper’s Landing is a new seafood place we’d been wanting to try.
It follows the latest trend of slightly industrial looking spaces, with exposed duct work and open rafters.
Being Maine, naturally there’s a live lobster tank.
And being allergic, naturally they sat me right next to it. Cruel and unusual punishment to be sure.
There was also this handy technical breakdown for the lobsterly challenged among us.
I got a huge kick out of this as no Mainer worth their salt would ever eat the body (carapace). Of course no Mainer would ever call it a carapace either.
Though “Do not eat head” is always sound advice in a restaurant.
But call me crazy, I don’t think advertising your lobster as “stringy” and “gamey” is going to win many converts.
Moving on…
I opted for a blueberry martini, which was delightfully potent… but my girlfriend chose the Blue Atlantic mocktail….
And then added two shots of Grey Goose.
Putting the cock in her mock.
Fresh blueberries, fresh basil…. it was fabulous! And what we drank from then on.
We saw some massive bar pretzels going by, but opted for blueberry bbq wings…
And crab quesadillas instead.
Wings? Quite good.
Quesadillas? Not nearly enough crab.
Perhaps they fought back in the kitchen…
I chose the seafood pasta, which was basically scampi…
And though it looked bland…. it was fresh, perfectly cooked and with just the right amount of garlic.
Husband went with baked haddock in sherried butter and lobster cream sauce with asparagus.
Pardon the blurred photo, I think the Grey Goose was kicking in.
Dessert was cheesecake for the husband.
And a traditional Maine Whoopie Pie for me.
Slightly disappointing as it had been frozen and hadn’t thawed out properly. One should not risk breaking a tooth when one eats a Whoopie.
Rating?
B – , but worth trying again.
The post in which River goes to a Lobster Festival but can’t eat lobster.
The following is proof that my husband can inflict cruel and unusual punishment.
It happened at The 72nd Maine Lobster Festival in Rockland, Maine.
We lucked out and found a parking spot close to the festival, and it was across the street from the Trade Winds resort where I spotted the first lobster.
Although it looked more like a demented crawfish…
The stupid thing had teeth!
This did not bode well for the day….
But the weather was perfect…
And we were near the ocean.
It doesn’t get much better than that…
Or does it?
Aaarrgghh!
There be Pirates.
Pirates on the boats…
Pirates on the piers…
Basically, there were pirates everywhere.
And as much as I tried to avoid it?
There was lobster.
Mocking me and my damned allergy.
World’s Largest Lobster cooker?
Yup… that too.
We passed lobster rolls, lobster stew, lobster quesadillas, lobster mac and cheese, lobster chowder, lobster Caesar salad, lobster wontons, even lobster risotto balls….
And then there was this:
Me…. sitting in a tent, surrounded by people eating lobster.
I had to sit and watch my husband as he oohed and ahhed over every last sweet, fresh from the water, dripping in melted butter, bite.
Cruel and unusual to be sure.
It wasn’t easy.
I tried to find solace in a crabmeat roll…
And the required I’m at a street festival and have to eat the junkiest, highest calorie thing I can find fried dough.
It was good… but it wasn’t lobster.
Cursing my treacherous body, I pulled up my big girl panties and soldiered on.
We strolled through the art show…
And into the lobster trap lined entrance to the craft show.
Where the husband bought organic natural honey…
And we saw a buoy that believed size does matter….
There was another tent filled with lobster eaters…
And King Neptune….
Who looked a little lost.
The King is quite popular at the festival….
And people line up for photos whenever he walks by.
My lobster-less belly aside, it was a fun day.
And Rockland is a fun town.
Although I have to admit, the children do look a little….
Off.
Do you like lobster?
I love it.
(But I live in Maine… I think it’s mandatory for citizenship.)
When we lived down south I missed lobster. So when we came home on vacation? I had lobster omelettes for breakfast, lobster rolls for lunch, lobster quesadillas for bar appetizers and lobster chowders with baked stuffed lobster for dinner.
Picnic? Lobster salad.
Day at the beach? Lobster bake.
We’re pretty lobster-centric in these parts.
Which made it hard for me when I came up allergic to the glorious crustacean about 7 years ago and could no longer eat it without becoming violently ill.
Yeah.
No more of this –
Or this –
Which makes me want to do this –
I’m teased by lobster at every turn living here.
There are festivals devoted to lobster.
Lobster parades.
And lobster boat races.
My husband orders lobster for dinner and eats it in front of me.
We go to motorcycle rallies where they serve endless streams of lobster.
Every friend who visits from out of state wants to don silly bibs and eat lobster.
It kills me. Each and every time….
But now?
There’s a restaurant we pass on our way up the coast that’s really rubbing my nose in it.
And that’s just….
Wrong.
Coastal trip, part deux.
Belfast, Maine.
Population – 6,668.
Once Abenaki Indian territory, it was used by Native Americans to fish and hunt for water fowl in the summer months.
Afraid so.
Sorry…
Burned by the British in 1779, rebuilt and incorporated as a city in 1850.
A thriving ship building center at the turn of the century, it grew and was prosperous. Until wooden ships became obsolete.
Thanks for clearing that up.
Shoe manufacturing and poultry production took over until the recession of the 1970’s, when it fell on hard times.
Local people left in droves to find employment….
As out of staters were beginning to discover the beauty of the Maine coast and started buying up prime property.
Today Belfast is part working waterfront…
Part tourist destination.
A quaint town, a scenic harbor…
With various parks to enjoy the views.
In lobster trap chairs…
Or lobster topped benches.
We had a tasty seafood lunch …..
Complete with cocktails.
(Was there ever any doubt?)
And strolled the day away.
Life is good…
When you live in a such a beautiful place.
Things I like today… chapter 2.
A Maine woman is experimenting with weed to dull a lobster’s pain as he’s plunged into that boiling pot of water.
There are worse ways to die than high.
The article in case you want to read it:
I like.
A local homemade R2D2 warning drivers to slow down.
And this one reads in his spare time. Who knew?
I like.
Rhododendron season.
For a burst of pure color it’s hard to beat.
I like.
The bees like…
It’s all good.
And finally…
The dollar bill I received in change….
Complete with instructions on how not to spend it.
I like.
A fashion question.
I was flipping through New York magazine the other day…
And being from Maine, one particular photograph struck me.
It was of a Dolce and Gabbana evening gown.
And it got me wondering.
Exactly to what kind of high society event does one wear a giant lobster claw?
I could see her snatching a champagne flute off a waiter’s tray with it, sure.
And maybe crushing some Harvey Weinstein like idiot’s roving hand.
But still.
It seems a trifle cumbersome for a night on the town.
Yes, this is really happening.
Not much makes me do a double take these days. In case you haven’t noticed?
People be crazy.
But this local story was worth a second look.
Giving new meaning to the term baked lobster.
Yes, there is a woman in Maine who owns a restaurant.
Yes, she serves lobster.
And yes, she has decided to get them high before cooking them to alleviate their pain.
Indeed.
You can now request your lobster to be sedated with pot before he goes in the…. well,
Pot.
I’m told the cooked lobster tastes better after the smoking, but then again…. doesn’t everything?
So in closing, may I just say….
#1. It’s official, I’ve now seen everything.
And #2. Speaking from the vast experience of an extremely misspent youth, there is no amount of weed, no matter how potent… that will lessen the effect of being thrown into a vat of boiling water.
(And if you can prove me wrong on that one, please PM me immediately.)
