the murder of larry and roger

Several months ago, one of our customers gave me and each of my team members a gift certificate for a lobster dinner from a seafood restaurant in Boston. My buddy Rusty, always up for a cooking challenge, offered to help out with the preparing/boiling/eating of the lobsters. Strangely enough, they actually ship the lobsters live in a box. They were delivered to my desk yesterday afternoon. While they sat beside me for a few hours, I grew a little attached. Against my better judgment, I named mine Larry. Later in the evening, Rusty named his Roger.

Larry and Roger had a good life until they were one day snatched out of the ocean, thrown into a boat with thousands of other lobsters, placed in a box of seaweed, shipped to a corporate office, driven to Boulder, tricked into thinking they were free when I snipped the rubberbands off of their little claws, then tossed head-first into a pot of boiling water . . . and white wine, thyme, parsley, bay leaves, and lemon. (At least they went out in style!)

I'll be honest, it was difficult to eat the little guys after seeing them wave their little claws at me. It just seemed wrong snapping their arms off with my bare hands. Minutes before, those little hands had been moving around, gripping pieces of seaweed -- their last reminder of life in the peaceful sea. Weird. Never in my life have I felt so much like a carnivore. But Larry and Roger, may they rest in peace, were delicious. Their meat, dipped in butter practically melted in my mouth. Today, Larry spent yet another day with me at the office. This time, in my stomach. (I tried not to think about that too much.)

Here are some photos from Larry and Roger's last night on earth:

The box:
Adding some white wine to the water/herb bouquet concoction:
Lemons make Larry and Roger taste even better!

Larry emerges from the seaweed!
The place of death:
Rusty says hello and goodbye to Roger:
Ready to eat!
Yum!
Me and Rusty -- ready to eat our new friends!
While I was eating Larry, I totally forgot about the chowder! Charred chowder = charred-er:
Larry's carcass . . . and the delicious Collaboration Not Litigation ale looks on . . .