So, tell me, how many of you know how to eat a spiny lobster? (except you, Jane, I know you know how to eat it)
I ask because that’s what we had for dinner tonight. I must have had the “I have no idea” face because no sooner had I stabbed at it a few times than the waiter came over to help.
She lifted it deftly off the plate, did a bit of slicing and bingo! It was out of its shell and ready for consumption. I laughed it off, saying “our lobsters at home come undressed”, chortle, chortle.
Soon after, another waiter came over and said he had another lobster, cooked especially for me so would I like it. I distinctly heard laughter from the kitchen. I felt sure they were crowded around the door, waiting to see me struggle with the second lobster.
At least I accepted help. The chap on the table next to me refused assistance and I watched, surreptitiously and with some glee, as he stabbed and pulled his lobster without trying to defrock it (wrong term, I know…).
“Ain’t much in there, hon”, he said.
As we left we got a big wave from the kids in the kitchen. And more laughter.
Rhudimentary 