Oct 15, 2013

If you're going to kill a lobster , you'd better be prepared to finish the job

Tuesday we had a slow start getting out. We mostly hung out at the house all morning and I got caught up on blogging. When Neri came back, the three of us went out to a really good wine bar/chophouse called Underbelly. Definitely a foodie joint, and a highly designed experience. Simple menu, unusual selections or preparations. We had Korean spicy braised goat with gnocci to start, then Tay got their Wagyu beef burger and fries and I got a "pork zampone" sandwich with melted cheese, onions, and 1000 island dressing. For dessert, we split a slice of vinegar pie and salt brittle. The vinegar pie was surprisingly good with a sweetness from the apple cider vinegar and a slight sharpness like key lime pie.

After lunch, we drove to Westheimer for all the used clothing stores. Not like goodwill, but trendy used clothes and "vintage" apparel, a few doors down from upscale label boutiques and American Apparel. Just guessing, but that stretch of Westheimer may be a major gay culture epicenter as well.

Tay got bored of the used clothes and headed towards the coffeeshops, but never made it, becoming ensnared by the American Apparel. By the time we got out, we had to make a beeline for the grocery store for dinner.

Central Market is the most upscale grocery store I've ever seen. Huge selection of wines, fresh baked breads, a staggering array of cheeses, fresh exotic seafood. Beers from around the world. Sushi. I'm surprised there aren't waiters passing champagne flutes. Exorbant prices. We picked up about a pound of fresh mussels and two live main lobsters.

The seafood counter guy uses a small rake to fish the lobsters out and throws them in a heavy plastic bag with ice. The second lobster was feisty. It dramatically jumped out of the rake and quickly scuttled backwards across the bottom of the tank undoubtedly thinking NoNoNoNoNoNo, before the guy caught it again. They didn't move much after that.

Back at the house I helped prepare the mussels for moules marinaire and we ate them before turning to the lobsters on the counter. I have a lot of blood on my hands, but I don't think I've ever actually killed anything and eaten it before.

When you pick up a lobster, it spreads its claws and legs way out, like it's a flying crustacean. Tay's reacted to being rinsed off by flipping it's tail, startling Tay into dropping it in the sink.

I thought that being dropped in boiling water would immediately kill a lobster, or at least a few seconds before its small brain would be fried. These were depressingly hearty lobsters- they both moved around in the boiling water for upwards of two minutes, their color already changing, before succumbing to the heat.

It's a bit sad, but I feel better at least acknowledging and taking direct responsibility for the killing. How many cows, chickens, pigs, goats, sheep, and fish have I had killed for my convenience? We live too disattached from our environment. If people really understood the implications and costs of what they were eating, the amount of feed and hormones and antibiotics which go into livestock, the embodied energy and water, would we still look at it the same way? At least, we'd all be a lot less cavalier with meat.

Anyway. After dinner, I stitched my cheapest bag in the world back together, said a little prayer for it to hold to Phoenix, and repacked my luggage. Got to bed a little after midnight. Didn't sleep well, and 6:30am came way too early.

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Medium is the message

I moved the blog again. I deleted the Tumblr account and moved everything to Medium.com, a more writing-centric website. medium.com/@wende