"Still being able to have a lobster bake on the Coast of Maine tells me that all is not yet lost out there," says Tuck. Eat your heart out, Mr. statist POTUS. Read Andrew Foy's and Brenton Stransky's "Revisiting Hayek" and call us in the morning. Meanwhile Hannaford's cooked the lobsters so we didn't have to hear their screams. We did all the rest. Steamed corn on the cob, potato salad on beds of Boston lettuce (center), mighty Caesar salad (top). How sweet it was. No croutons better than our own roasted ones with garlic and olive oil. As for the dressing, anchovy paste instead of anchovies soothed the savage breast. We can't bear to see their beady little eyes staring out at us from the can.
Goomp was happy as a clam. Brandy Alexander Pie for dessert was the frosting on the cake.
Update: While the rest of us clawed our way to the meat with crackers and picks, Goomp leisurely enjoyed two lobster rolls (above left) lovingly prepared by ourselves.