Only Rich Idiots Eat Lobster Outside of Maine

I grew up in Maine, therefore I am prickishly opinionated and know everything there is to know about many things. And for our purposes today, lobster. Or at least that's what my editor thinks, which is why she has me writing this essay about whether or not it's appropriate to butter a lobster roll bun. Or maybe I'm supposed to settle the mayo versus butter debate. I don't know; I wasn't really paying attention, because when lobster comes up in any conversation, Mainers tend to lose some of our cognitive abilities.

In Maine, lobster is a way of life. We learn about it in school, friend's parents are lobstermen, and lobsters were even on goddamn license plates for a few years. We eat these bottom feeders year round—steamed, grilled, boiled whole, or maybe even in the form of a lobster roll. Even McDonald's serves lobster rolls. The first time I ever had lobster in any other way was at a fancy dinner before high school prom.

From a young age, Mainers know how to get all the meat out of the legs (bite the joint and suck while pulling the leg through your teeth), how the sweetest meat is in between the gills (crack the body open and pick it out), and how to find little nuggets of meat in the tail fins (rip them off the tail, then do a similar method as the legs). We also learn other tricks, from how to use your thumb to push all the meat out of the tail or how the green shit inside the lobster is called tomalley, which is the best part.

In Maine, lobster's cheap, unlike everywhere else. It's not just for rich folks, which makes learning this stuff accessible to all. Even now, it's a high $7.99/lb pricing for the soft shell, and a touch more for the supposedly sweeter hard shell. It hasn't been this high since 2007, but it's still a steal compared with pretty much anywhere else. And here's a local's secret: if you go down to the dock when the boats are coming in, bring cash and you can get below $4/lb easily. With prices like these, lobster becomes an everyman food. Lobster can even be currency itself; my dad sold his mid-70's International Scout to a lobsterman for $200 and an exchange of 40 lobsters. That was a good summer.

Eating lobster outside of Maine is for rich idiots. Not eating lobster in Maine is just sad. Lots of things happen during a lobster feast, like debating the different ways that you should kill a lobster. Inevitably, there's always a person who brings up the tale about how it used to be food for prisoners. Is that actually true? I have no idea, but Mark Kurlansky probably has book about it.

What is true is that lobster rolls are best served cold, with just a slap of mayonnaise on the split-top hot dog roll, or even tossed in mayo with some small bits of celery if you must—but you don't need to. The split top bun is so you can butter the bun and grill it on the sides, unlike a regular hot dog bun.

However, not everyone sees it like this. One of the most traumatic parts of growing up in Maine is that you will inevitably meet someone who thinks a lobster roll should be made with lobster sautéed in butter on a regular hot dog bun. In Maine, we refer to these people as being "from away." It's also accurate to call them "assholes from Connecticut." They think they invented the lobster roll. Fuck them.