Lobsters. The last day in class is going to be a seafood extravaganza. On today’s menu, mussels in white wine and cream sauce, Lobster with Sauce Americaine, Seared Scallops with Parsley Coulis and a bevy of clams and oysters we would shuck with our own bare hands. I look longingly at the wine bottles and count the recipes we will need to finish before the drinking and celebrating can commence. This was it. As with everything in life, Lesson 22 marks the end of my in-class culinary adventures and it would be a mixture of both salty and bittersweet.
I pick out my one-pound lobster from the bundle. He is locked in some sort of tussle with the others and although he is small, I admire his feisty spirit. I’m trying to come up with a name when Chef informs me my runt of a lobster is actually called a chick. As if I don’t feel bad enough, I’m left with the image of dropping Tweety Bird into a vat of boiling water. Chef can see I’m squeamish about my lobster lament. He offers the following option.