Gettin' philasawphical wid da Lawbstas...

Cooking lobsters is something I really look forward to every summer. Besides the outrageously delicious meal they provide, it is the only time where I am actually confronted with (and let's face it responsible for) the killing that meat eating requires. I know that this idea is repugnant to many of you. But IF you eat meat, this is the price you pay. It's only right to experience that unpleasant reality for yourself. Believe me, I feel sick about putting those jolly green bottomfeeders into a boiling homemade fish stock and white wine concoction (never water, and btw, unlike the pic above, never more than 2 inches of liquid in the pot, you're steaming, not blanching these guys for crying out loud, cook covered 20 minutes exactly). But overcoming that sickness is part of the ritual.

Going out on a limb, I believe that the consumed lobster understands its fate. It's part of their religious myth - their "shellfish rapture" if you will - some will be plucked from their watery homes and brought to hellish dry places, deprived of water, refrigerated, and then cooked alive in some spicy liquid (I like a nice Riesling, but go ahead and use cheap cooking wine if you must). It is important that we try to make their sacrifice meaningful.

Perhaps eating meat can represent a bizarre form of interspecies love. Consuming a variety of animals, particularly seafood, puts us physically and symbolically in touch with other life forces, other biochemistries, other worlds and worldviews, thus breaching the cold taboo of the species gap. Eating meat wisely invites key animal attributes into our own blood, thus enabling us to achieve our own best destiny.

Then again, who knows. Perhaps one day we shall be plucked from our homes and boiled alive by giant lobsters. Or worse...