It took me a long time to understand lobster rolls.
Mind you, I have a longstanding adoration for lobster, especially for someone who grew up in the mountain states.
I probably had it for the first time when I was six years old, in Aurora, Colorado, when my older brother and I were staying with neighbors across the street while my parents were in Los Angeles. My mother was undergoing brain surgery. It was not my favorite week.
Our neighbors were very nice but not fancy. They had six kids and generally ate in the kitchen off of paper plates that they threw to their dogs when they were finished. One car or another almost always seemed to be in a state of disrepair in their driveway.
But the parents were celebrating a major anniversary — 25th, probably — and we ate in the living room, I assume off of real plates. I don’t remember much about it, but there were finger bowls and everyone had their own cup of drawn butter. I doubt they gave me much lobster — I was six and therefore easily amused with corn and potatoes — but I definitely had some, and I still remember dipping it in the butter, putting it in my mouth, and hearing angels sing.
Mom got through the surgery just fine.
Later I went to college in New England and lobster became more commonplace but still celebratory, and I always enjoyed the visceral act of tearing apart a lobster, sucking all the meat out of the little legs, relishing the claws and knuckles in particular, and just enjoying the overall experience of eating very fresh, perfectly cooked, warm lobster.
But lobster rolls?
I don’t remember the first time I had one, because that’s how forgettable it was. Cold lobster mixed with mayonnaise, celery, and tarragon. As far as I was concerned, it could have been chicken salad.
Then I finally had a Connecticut style roll at Neptune Oyster in Boston’s North End, one of the only restaurants where I will gladly wait in line, even in the winter. The hot dog bun was perfectly toasted, the warm lobster was dripping with butter, and I was at peace.
Now it’s lobster season, and lobster rolls abound here in the Northeast, ranging from delicious to … not. They’re so popular in this part of the country that they’re available in many diners, albeit at an upscale price tag.
Friendly’s, originally based in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, rolls them out most summers, including this one. It has both the Connecticut version, which I would try, and the Maine one, which I would not, both priced at $23.99 with fries.
Panera’s is priced the same, without fries and only available at participating locations in the Northeast. It’s Maine style, so I hope customers who aren’t me enjoy it.
I now live in Brooklyn, N.Y., near the original Nathan’s Famous restaurant in Coney Island, which has traditionally offered a Maine-style lobster roll during the summer. No word yet on whether that tradition will continue this year.
My college friends who still live in New England insist on their love for eating cold, mayonnaise-dressed lobster rolls, particularly on hot summer days along the Martha’s Vineyard waterfront. I have joined them for that, and I get it: Cold lobster on a hot day can be glorious.