I was exposed to lobster tales when I was knee-high to a grasshopper.
I guess Dad’s loyalty to the industry came from his days of patrolling the Northumberland Straits during World War II. He and his buddies, when on break, would often be invited to visit lighthouses where a feast of lobster would be served. Some of the lighthouse operators had daughters, and, Dad would explain to me that pilots in those days were considered a pretty good catch themselves. I guess Dad was no exception. (He only had eyes for my beautiful mother at that time and so the lighthouse “Dads” were out of luck before they even knew it!)
In any case – it was here where Dad learned the fine art of cracking and consuming lobster.
There was no part of the lobster spared when Dad was through – other than the eyes and the shell. Even the legs and the material already digested by the lobster itself was “succulent”, as Dad would describe it.
I remember Dad recounting a story about how he and Mom went to dine with their friends Floyd and Francis in Dundas one time. On the “all -you – can – eat” menu was lobster. I guess it wasn’t really all you can eat as Dad’s feast was halted after 13 lobsters.
And it wasn’t just the fact that he ate the pre-digested green stuff that had people stunned, it was that he was given everyone else’s carcus with pre-digested material too. So – imagine at the end of the feast there would be over 20 lobsters waiting for Dad to “enjoy”.
Lobster – which is why Red Lobster was our dining choice after Dad’s inurnment – has been an important meal to the Duff family. It would be served to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and the arrival of special guests. Of course, accompanying the lobster would be Dad’s home-made wine – the body-builder.
Dad always said the best part of the lobster is the tail – but I’ve always liked the lobster “tales” better. Grin.