Hot Lobsta or The Laziness of Mr Hot Lobster or How the Lobsta Fell for The Bun or Lobsta Lobsta, Get Your Lobsta...Hot!
I am chasing the dream, the narrow, straight and curved, the packed down soil, hardened to a solid mush of deeper brown; moist and organic, weaving it's way to...The World's Best Lobster Roll!
To begin, one must make a simple choice, so forked it conjures images of a snake tongue, slithering it's way near your ear; Snake might be the perfect extended Metaphor, as it seems the polar extremes Lobster Roll fanatics take their love, of their type (cold or hot), can be sinister as a snake carrying an apple...err...a lobster roll through the garden of eden; tempting youthful minds for the taste of something...well, Fishy.
I prefer mine hot, and it would do my mind a restful peace and solitude to know their are no menus in existence that garnish the word "Lobster" with "Salad"! Lobster Rolls are meant to be hot, (Ask Jesus, he served up the finest hot lobster rolls on unleavened Bread at the last supper) hot and teaming with knuckles and claws, seething heat with the delicate texture of drawn butter coating the perfect assortment of Lobster-Gooey-Goodness. There is a Gordon-Ramsayesque recipe for perfection that wouldn't have one's mind jabbering off, in full english accent, ranting of soggy hot dog roll and rubbery lobster, "It's Roubbery for Chrissake!"
I wouldn't call myself an expert, so much as a connoisseur, and practice the Art with only one other person; the "Drive in" To my "Drive out Again" so to speak, if you placed it in her terms; the "Moma Dance" to my "Ghost" if I had my press agents handling the billing of our Debut at Carnegie Hall. Moma has got it all, if you will. She has the personality that would reduce a Primate back to its primordial goo, with the feminine wit to carry all the world at her beck and call. And She loves the Hot Lobster Roll. (That right there should prove it is the best and only way a lobster roll should be concocted)! More to Come...