We celebrated Valentine's Day the way we usually do, at home. The last time we went out we were disgusted when we went to our favorite steak place, The Sportsman, and they had a limited menu with jacked-up prices. And it's super-crowded everywhere else, which is far from romantic IMO (I love little abbreviations, no matter how precious they may be). Besides I can always make our favorite dishes better than we can get them out.
This year, I wanted spiny lobster. I'm doing Atkins again after having gained way too much weight as the result of the surgeries and over the holidays. One of the good things about Atkins is you can eat such decadent meals as a steak dinner or lobster or crab and it's OK, just so long as you stay away from bread and potatoes.
Spiny lobster is only in season here from the middle of October to the middle of March. Then there's a moratorium on fishing for the lobsters, which BTW I found our are not, in fact, lobsters, but rather giant cousins of crawfish. I haven't had one in years and really love the taste of the sweet meat that's in the large tails. I think spiny lobster is actually tastier than Maine Lobster.
So I had to get up early on Saturday -- Valentine's Day -- and head to the fisherman's market at Ventura Harbor. If you're not there early, you miss out on the best stuff. I was a little worried at first because there only seemed to be lots and lots of crabs, but we found the lobster guy and picked out a big old lobster, which they packed in a frozen bananas box and then wrapped in saltwater-soaked newspaper.
The last time I got a lobster, I felt bad and tried to make some salt water by pouring salt into tap water in the sink. I put the poor lobster in there and I swear to God he screamed, arched his back and tried to jump out before he died, which he did immediately, so this time no trying to make a saltwater bath.
Rob had come with me and was asking the fishermen about the spider crabs, which I had been told were not very tasty. These guys say, however, that it's hard to crack the thick shells, but the meat under the top shell of the body is delicious. Spider crabs are really cool and grow to be huge giving them this primordial feel. They have one on the wall at The Sportsmen and it's cool-looking, in a creepy way.
After the fisherman's market, we headed to the Ventura farmers market because I had to take pictures and get information for the farmers market column (Have I mentioned before how much I LOVE writing that column? The very first pictures I ever took with my camera were of the Santa Barbara farmers market. I love love love farmers markets.)
We shopped around, finding the artichokes I needed for my meal. We also got blueberries, which they're just starting to grow around here, and some garlic grass, which I realized as soon as we got home, I have growing in my garden. But I get caught up in my own enthusiasm when I'm there and it was only a buck and a half.
On the way home Rob wanted to stop by our neighborhood flower guy to get roses. He ended up with 21 roses for $40. One phenomenon I found interesting when I came to Southern California was the practice of many Mexicans of selling flowers on such holidays as Mother's Day and Valentine's Day -- those are the big ones out on the streets. On Valentine's Day the entire length of Ventura Avenue is lined with tables featuring roses, stuffed animals and red, heart-shaped balloons. I love how cheerful they look, even though business seemed slow this year.
Even though the flowers were beautiful, especially after I added some baby's breath, but I felt guilty about eating the lobster all day. I've made lobsters before, but as I get older my twinges of guilt over eating animals grow. Actually killing one is even harder on my conscience. When it came time, I just wanted to get it over. I checked the size of the lobster to make sure it would fit in the pot and when I was going to put the lobster in to measure it, it started flipping its whole body back and forth violently, apparently knowing full-well what I was doing.
Rob started yelling about how cruel and evil I was and I did feel pretty bad. I briefly entertained the notion of going back to the harbor and dumping the poor lobster there and letting him fend for himself. But the thought of the $27 I had paid, along with my strong desire to eat some sweet lobster meat allowed me to put my qualms aside.
After all, the beef I'd bought for Rob's Swiss steak -- his favorite meal, with mashed potatoes and canned sweet peas -- had probably been as upset about his death. The thought of a cow -- eyes rimmed with white in sheer panic, being led into one of those killing boxes where they drive a charge into its skull didn't me feel less guilty, unfortunately.
At this point the lobster's alien extruded eyes were drilling me. I mean I swear I can feel it when my plants are thirsty. I can hear them scream for water, so this lobster's buggy eyes following me around the room made me feel even more guilty. Not guilty enough, however, not to plunge the poor guy headfirst into the boiling water when the time came.
I cooked him up, alongside the artichoke and sat down to savor a meal of lemon butter-drenched food. But I swear the meat didn't taste right and I couldn't get too much of it down. I devoured the artichoke, which didn't seem to object to being boiled as much as the lobster had.
Later that evening, I'm not sure if it was the lobster or the malitol from eating a million sugar-free chocolates, but I had an attack of colic to end all attacks. Rob said he thought the house was going to shake off its foundations with the volume of gas bursting from my body. He said the lobster was getting its revenge.
Now the story should ended there, but today I ate some of the leftover lobster cold, and it tasted delicious and so far I'm not doubled over. So we'll see, but I think my days of buying live animals to eat are probably over.
Oh for anyone wondering, the way to make artichokes is to trim the stem almost off -- it's fibrous and almost inedible. Pick off the smallest leaves and trim the artichoke by cutting the tips of the leaves off. You don't have to do this, but the leave tips have thorns and you can prick your finger, which hurts when you're dipping your artichoke in lemon butter.
Bring about 2 inches of salted water to a boil in a large covered pot. Add the artichoke and cook for about 18 to 20 minutes or until a fork pierces the stem end easily. Serve with lemon butter, which you make by melting a half stick of butter in the microwave in 20 second increments. Mix with the juice of half a lemon.
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