Like: Lobster Rolls

For crap’s sake it’s been a long time since I talked about food…

A good lobster roll is an amazing thing. I used to eat them all the time back in Boston. My father lived in Gloucester and there were three or four places you could get absolutely quality ones.

For a good traditional lobster roll, the key is fresh and full bodied lobster meat.  Most restaurants use awful pieces of stringy lobster meat. You know, those leftovers they figure they can just “throw in the rolls” and figure they can mask the taste in too much of the mayo. Also you want the pieces to be similar in size: not too large, not too small.  Just consistent, small chunks of great lobster.

The rest of the traditional recipe is just a simple combo of mayonnaise, parsley, celery, green onion, lemon, and a little salt. A little dijon and basil can go a long way too. A lot of ones use butter lettuce but I think it sometimes just gets in the way. Some fresh herbs can  But remember, the biggest flavor you want is lobster. That means you’re using the mayo to best disperse that taste throughout. Using homemade mayonnaise goes a long way in accomplishing that goal. Fresh mayo has an entirely different taste and structure which is perfect for any kind of seafood salad. Store bought ones are fine, but a little underwhelming.

Bread selection is important. Believe it or not, a nice simple toasted hot-dog roll can be perfect. It’s a nice gentle flavor that let’s the lobster be the star and the toasty-ness gets rid of that soft doughy quality that’s no good.

While traditional lobster rolls are one of my favorite comfort foods, I love gourmet rolls that have a different take on the flavors. Exciting stuff like: ginger, rosemary, soy, truffles, smoked bacon, champagne gelee.

I had a great one the other day that lumped crab on top of a toasted broiche that kind of tasted like french toast. The lobster was quality, but a little too shredded and matched nicely in flavor with fresh herbs.

I think I wanna make some lobster rolls.

Mmmmmm. Lobsters…. I miss new england.

Like: Vanilla

I just got this new flavor tea at work and it’s called French Vanilla. I’ve had the more popular French Vanilla coffee sometimes and it’s extra delicious. Well this tea is just as good. It’s soothing and yummy.

Fuck, I like vanilla flavored everything: Ice Cream, Coke, Chocolate, Caramel, Custard, Paste, whatever. I even make a mean striped bass dish with spinach and saffron-vanilla sauce.

It’s also used in perfumes and is widely regarded as an aphrodisiac.

The chemical that releases that delicious flavor and smell is fittingly called Vanillin (4-hydroxy-3-methoxybenzaldehyde) and it’s a miracle worker!

Like: The Apple Pan

I’m planning on going to The Apple Pan for lunch this week.

The Apple Pan is awesome. It’s a lone, independent burger joint that features one big rectangular counter. The burgers are pretty solid. The patties are more of the thin variety but they got great fixins and best of all this werid bbq sauce that totally makes the whole thing work. I consider myself to have a high culinary aptitude and palette and I have no idea what the fuck is in the sauce. They serve nice crispy steak fries too and some sweet root beer. Plus, you can be in and out in like 15 minutes. Even the huge line moves fast. The staff is all business which I love and appreciate.

I <3 The Apple Pan

Don’t Like: Both forms of SPAM

New Rule: From now on, All Future Things Also Named SPAM MUST Be Bad.

Agreed? Agreed.

SPAM sucks balls. It tastes bad. It clogs up emails (despite Gmail’s herculean efforts) and just generally makes me sad.

Like: Generic Asian Businessmen

Going off stereotypes alone, there’s just a lot to like: their dignity, the karaoke, the love of seafood,  their willingness to absorb new culture and highlight or expose their own, their ethical and high-paying treatment of prostitutes, and even the are they black or deep navy suits? Like I said, just a lot to like.

Like: That Paul Brought Dunkin Donuts Coffee to Work

Today’s gonna be a love fest. I just know it. Paul brought in grinds of Dunkin Donuts this morning. I’m already on my 2nd cup. It’s just fantastic. West coasters don’t understand. For some reason they like drinking StarBURNTASSBEANSBucks that cost 5 dollars a pop. East coasters also don’t understand cause they’re immersed in the world of the double D. But the east coasters on the west understand. This is indeed a special day. It’s pretty much the only time I still drink coffee. Oh happy day.

Time for a 3rd Cup.

Like: England! The United Kingdom! Scotland! Ireland!

This is a English/UK website and as such, many of the people who use it are from the UK. I am from America, but I just wanted to take a moment and show my appreciation to all my English readers who are quite diligent, respectful, and simply great to the site.

I just love the UK. I really do. I like London. Easily one of my favorite cities. I like Tottenham Hotspur. I like fish and chips not because I’m a stupid American tourist, but because they’re delicious. I like spelling colour with a U.  I like Kate Nash. I like Lily Allen. I like Steve Jones. I like Daniel Day-Lewis. I like the Beatles… I like pretty much all of England.

I like Scotland. I’m of Scottish ancestry. My last name means “red shale”.  I own a kilt. I can do a pretty gnarly Scottish accent. I love the landscape. I’ve actually eaten haggis and didn’t find it thoroughly awful. I’ve done the highland games.

I like Ireland. I love Jameson whiskey. I like Guinness, good Guinness, not the shitty kind. I like Galway.

Wales… meh. Who cares about Wales?

Like: The Sandwich Guy On The Left (though the guy on the right is good too)

Because I can rarely get away from my desk, I often have to go to the sandwich place downstairs, get something and come back up to work. Luckily, the guys who make the sandwiches are pretty good. I don’t know their names, but there’s a guy on the right always calls me “my friend” (I thought I was special until I realized he said that to everyone) and the guy on the left who looks like a latino Josh Beckett. And this guy on the right makes a damn fine sandwich. His best quality is definitely generosity, there’s always lots of quantities to his ingredients. He also takes good care and pays attention to the little things like symmetry and design. I order about 4 different sandwiches and he’s memorized them all. I just say the type of bread and he’s off to the races. With that it’s fun to see the schmucks who barely know how to order a sandwich go up and struggle with the basic concept of what they want to eat. He never chastises them or anything, but he goes through an awkward slow motion and stutter due to said idiot’s poor ordering.  Occasionally he will let out a “vamanos, vamanos, amigo!”. We have a mild rapport going, though it’s not be as personal as my relationship with my security guard Andre. He seems to have that kind of relationship with the more attractive female members of his patronage.

He also seems to like the non-tomato BLTAs as much as I do (that’s a BLT w/ avocado to you east coasters).

And hey, you know the old addage, “don’t shit where you eat!” … that came out of nowhere but it’s supposed to be in reference to being nice and tipping the people who prepare your food and not being a dick.

Don’t Like: Defective Coffee Lids

This morning I actually bought a cup of starbucks coffee. This is egregious on several levels. 1) We have free coffee here at work 2) I hate starbucks coffee, it tastes like burnt ass 3) I really just went in to get a croissant cause I was hungry but ended up getting a giant chocolate croissant and “grande” (wtf? that’s medium) cup of coffee 4) I don’t even really like drinking coffee that much and 5) most importantly, there was a defective lid.

Now if Jackie Childs was asking me I would reiterate that I did not put the lid on, they put the lid on. About halfway walking through the courtyard back to my building. I felt a strange sting on my hands only to realize two sides of the cup were gleaking out the sides and croissant bag was wet. Not having any noticeable aid in this matter, I kept walking so I could hurry to the elevator and get to the kitchen on my floor. All the way, burning my hand. The elevator was awkward in that I was trying to shield my obviously leaking coffee. I tried to direct most of it onto the bag, but there were clearly visible problems to these people. So I ran to the kitchen. Found the ONE SPARE paper towel square (as in singular) that was left over and attempted to clean it. Now w/ a counter I felt I could repair the lid which was placed incorrectly.

I did so and kept walking to my desk only to realize the familiar burning sensation had returned. Panicking, I ran to my desk, spilled more, cleaned more, and through that freaking lid in the trash where it deserved to be.

Fuck you defective coffee lid. Fuck you to hell.

Also Don’t Like: Puking for 7 hours. Cause that’s what I did today.

 

Yay food poisoning!

 

Also note: Above figure is for the “toilet snorkel”

It makes no sense here but I love it.