Oh yeah, and there were also king crab legs with some lime juice, black pepper and salt.
I woke up this morning with The Hunger, so I rocked a pack of lobster ravioli and a bag of frozen crab legs in a fit of irrational, over-the-top seafoodism. The king crab legs went into the steamer; the ravioli, into a steel pot. But what about the sauce?
In my fridge were: a tube of tomato paste, a jar of sun-dried tomatoes, frozen garlic, frozen basil and innumerable onions and shallots. So, why not? The sun-dried tomatoes went into a saucepan with a tablespoon of the oil in which they were packed, along with a bit of chopped onion and garlic. Once it started to smell reasonable, I emptied out the whole tube of tomato paste and threw in a cube of the frozen basil. It sorta worked? Maybe? It ended up being a little too tart, so I splashed a little white wine into it and let it reduce for a while. The end result was a thickish sauce that overpowered the lobster ravioli just a little bit. All in all, not a bad attempt for being half-asleep and hung over.
Here’s the scoop, kiddies: this past weekend, I was whisked away to that boil upon the snout of the Americas, Boston, Massachusetts. I only know of maybe two things for which Boston is famous: tea and massacres. With that jarring juxtaposition in mind, I was really surprised with the city’s ordinary Joe demeanor. Even while the homotrons were out in full force (with it being Pride and all), everyone just shrugged their shoulders and went, “Life’s crazy!” Boston is like… Boston is like the Potsie to New York’s Fonzie. Yeaaaaah.
The minute we arrived in the city, we hit up Faneuil Hall, which is this crazy-ass tourist trap of a historical site. Boston decided to preserve its historical significance as a marketplace by opening up a FOOD COURT and a multitude of SHITTY KIOSKS in it. Wooooooo boy! Fortunately, we found refuge in a Todd English establishment, whose name escapes me now. All I remember is that a great many mollusks tragically gave their lives to become snappy decor.
I wasn’t sure what to order, really. Every dish on the menu contained some form of crustacean, so I knew that I’d be taken care of no matter what I picked. When it was my turn to order, I blurted out, “L-lobster and fontina thing! That! Urgh!” What I ended up getting was a sort of grilled cheese-and-grilled lobster sandwich with a side salad and some phenomenal tomato soup. The salad, which was served with a slightly acidic mango salsa, was pretty mehhh. But that’s just what happens with all side salads. When I got the sandwich, I wondered why I had never thought to pair lobster with fontina cheese before. Of course! Those two ingredients make up your standard lobster dip! Well, you go, Todd English! May your restaurant empire embed itself into the hearts of all men!
Join us next time, when my little sister eats a roast beef sandwich and we lock the dog in a hot car and he EXPLODES!!!!
P.S. Here is a bonus picture from the Museum of Science!