Introduction

I’ve been into food and wine for many a year but I've been a vegetarian for 25 years - more than half my life. I did not grow up off the grid with hippy parents. I did not read a book or see a movie about how meat is processed and then start eating tofu immediately. It was a personal choice I made when I was a junior in high school. Growing up Catholic, we always practiced the rituals of lent. Fish on Fridays. Giving up things as a symbolic sacrifice. That particular lent in 1983 I gave up red meat. It just seemed like the thing to do. If I recall, there was an anti-red meat campaign going on at the time. Still, eschewing steak and burgers and pepperoni pizza for a few weeks? That seemed like a big deal as a teenager.

Once lent was over, I didn’t go back to red meat. Instead, I decided to give up chicken. And eventually I gave up fish as well. I guess it just suits my taste buds and lifestyle. I’ve had thoughts over the past few years that I’d like to go back to eating fish. It’s so abundant in Seattle and it’s a lean source of protein. So, every now and then, when we’re out to dinner with friends, I’ll ask to take a tiny bite of their halibut or salmon or whatever they are eating. Each time I have the same reaction: Too strong of a taste. Too strange of a texture. And, I go back to my tofu dish and think…ahh…this is so good.

Over time, it has been easier to be a vegetarian. Particularly living on the west coast. It’s a very veggie friendly kind of place. Most restaurants, by and large, understand that vegetarian does not equal a pasta dish with leftover vegetables. But, when I started out, I lived on the east coast in New Hope, PA about an hour north of Philadelphia – home of the Philly Cheese Steak. When I told people I was a vegetarian, I might as well have told them that I was from the planet Jupiter. “So…you eat chicken?” Ah – no. “Fish?” That would be no again. “Then what do you eat? Granola?”

I am what they call a lacto-ovo vegetarian. I eat dairy products and I eat eggs. I tried to be vegan for a week. Couldn’t do it. I missed cheese too much. I also tried doing a raw food diet. I think that lasted less than three days. So, you can tell, I’m not one for extremes on the vegetarian front. Plus, I like my leather goods.

My husband James is not a vegetarian. He’s a healthy carnivore. And an adventure eater. As are many of our foodie friends we hang out with. He’ll try just about anything – once. Colt. Cayman Egg. Chocolate covered ants. Durian fruit. Cuy (guinea pig).

The idea for this blog came to me when we were on vacation on the mid-coast of Maine last summer. Perhaps because I had relaxed enough to have work thoughts completely out of my system. More likely it was because of Waterman’s Lobster Shack. We had read that James Beard had paid homage to it – so we wanted to check it out. Never having been to Maine, we didn’t quite know what to expect from a lobster shack.

When we arrived, the parking lot was full and people were lined up to order their food from a window. It could have been Dairy Queen, but it sure wasn't. People came from NY and CT and yes, the PNW, to feast on everything from lobster and crab rolls to 2 lb lobster dinners. The only thing they had on the menu for me was corn on the cob and coleslaw. I went for that, James went for the 1 lb lobster dinner. We didn’t know it was a BYOP (bring your own picnic) kind of place. So, we sat at a picnic table sipping lemonade and staring at the water in anticipation – James’ main course had come out of the sea that very day. At this joint, a couple was a rare sight. Most of the tables were full of families. Telling stories, laughing, chasing toddlers, sipping the wine they had brought or passing around a salad in a Tupperware container and, of course, feasting on lobster and then on homemade pie for dessert.

When James’ dinner arrived, he put on the classic, plastic bib with the iconic print of a lobster on the front. It was charming in the setting. It had been a long time since he had to work for his dinner. Luckily, the beautiful home on Tenants Harbor that we were renting had place mats that gave step by step instructions on how to eat a lobster. He pretended not to study it at morning coffee. But, I think it helped him to start in the right place. And to get the most out of his meal.

Earlier during our stay, on a boat tour to go see the puffins (a very cool story, by the way, one man’s quest 30+ years ago saved these darling little birds from extinction), we had learned from our lobsterman tour guide that in the summer months, what’s available is “soft shell lobster” vs. “hard shell lobster.” Kind of like us, we put away our heavy coats for the summer season – they don a softer, summer look when the days get longer. Thus the lobster shack experience was new to James on two fronts. BYOP & soft shell.

Some vegetarians might have been outraged at the scene around us. All that cracking and sucking, not to mention the method by which they must cook the lobster. Me, I was having a grand old time. Hanging out with James, sitting in the sun and watching so many people enjoy themselves. All with the backdrop of the beautiful ocean. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Food and communion? Sitting at a table with those you love and breaking bread with them. In this case, it was lobster claws. But you get my drift.

We’ve had a chance to travel to many wonderful places over the years and to eat in many wonderful restaurants, as well as people’s homes, here and abroad. What you’ll find in the following posts are memories from those meals. Memories of food, friendship and love. Cheers!