White Trash Surf and Turf

A few weeks ago, after a bottle of wine, I agreed to buy two lobsters from my best friend for her girls' school fundraiser. She called me on Saturday to say that they had arrived and she would be bringing them over.

Huh.

I thought about setting them free. Lobsters, however, are not indigenous to Colorado. The possibility of them living through a night in the hood was very remote. Have I mentioned before the foxes that live right in the city? Assuming they could survive the urban foxes, they would probably never make it across the busy street. It was becoming rapidly clear that the nicest thing to do was to eat them.

Both my gifted son and my Virginia Tech educated husband asked me where the lobsters were.

"In the fridge."
And both of them asked, "Loose?"

Yeah, they're loose in the fridge. Be careful when you open it in case they got into the wine.

When it was time to boil them, the first one didn't go down easy. He took one claw and grabbed the microwave that sits over the stove and hung on with all his might. The second one, knowing what was coming, just went in without a fight.

They don't scream. But they squirm. And squirm and squirm. For a really long time. You have to keep looking at them because you start the cooking time from when the water returns to a boil after putting them in. They're in there doing the hot potato dance. After what seems like an eternity (more so for them, I am sure), they finally stop.

Meanwhile, before I had remembered about the lobster arrival, I had promised my son that I would make him those little cocktail wiener things with the chili sauce and the grape jelly.

That's how we do surf and turf y'all - lobster and wienies.

When we were at the Target getting the 12 gallon pot in which to murder said crustaceans, we also picked up a copy of It's Complicated.

Huh. That's all I have to say. Huh. It's Complicated, lobster and wienies with grape jelly. The company, however? Fantastic!