Greetings Carnivores,
Geeze, Now I’ve gone and done it.
Seems I have dangled a bit of a carrot by mentioning an incident (in my last post) I NARROWLY avoided a few years ago regarding an innocuous can of Lobster meat and, now many of you have asked for the story.
I’ll just cut to the chase.
Lobster meat, for the record is sold a number of different ways but for this tale I am referring to frozen in a can. I know lots of folks have never heard of buying Lobster meat in a can, much less frozen but I assure you, you can (buy it in a can … there, look what you made me do) 🙂
Anyway, canned Lobster is sold one of two ways. Cold pack (meat, frozen in cans), or hot pack (meat, heat processed in cans).
Now that I’ve brought you up to speed, … on with my story.
A few years ago my lovely Marital Equivalent and I were (as George Jefferson would say) “movin’ on up”.
With the purchase of our new home, the horrible drudgery of packing and moving the old one began. Being as I am the resident foodie and household Chef du jour, the kitchen was my task.
While emptying the pantry, imagine my HORROR when I discovered a can of Lobster meat that had SOMEHOW made its way to the very back of the bottom shelf … WHERE IT HAD NOT SEEN THE LIGHT OF DAY SINCE OUR LAST MOVE … 5 or 6 YEARS PRIOR !!!
To say I was surprised to find it there is an understatement because … IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FROZEN !! EVEN WORSE … IT WAS A COLD PACK, meaning unlike it’s Tuna or Salmon brethren, it had NOT been heat treated.
Now … when I say HORROR, I mean … I was afraid to touch it. THAT’S BECAUSE THIS ONE POUND CAN OF SUPPOSEDLY FROZEN LOBSTER MEAT … WAS ROUND !!!
Imagine if you will, a bomb tech discovering what he thinks is a deadly, live round, backing, ever-so-gently away from certain grievous bodily harm, like a man coming face to face with a standing Cobra (just like ol’ Harrison Ford in the 1st Indiana Jones Movie).
That was me.
Now, imagine if you will … yours truly dressed in my motorcycle rain gear and wearing a full-face helmet, with gauntlet rubber gloves. (hey, … it was all I could come up with for a HAZMAT suit, should the unthinkable happen inside my house).
I cradled this bulging Lobster bomb in my shaking hands, and walked the slow walk of a Dead-man on his way to the gallows. My lovely Marital Equivalent had already propped open all the doors and gotten outa Dodge, allowing me unimpeded passage outside to safety.
I didn’t want to risk it blowing up in the garbage so I did the next logical thing …
Hey, … I lobbed it down the street.
What happened next was both frightening and hysterical at the same time.
The bomb flew in this huge arc (I needed to be as far away as I could get so I gave it a grenade-like toss). In what seemed like slow motion, this Lobster bomb disintegrated and painted the road with an impressive 20 foot splash radius.
What followed, I THOUGHT I was ready for … not even close. The resulting stench would have knocked a buzzard off a gut wagon.
Epilogue:
This story COULD have had such a catastrophic different ending. Imagine if that thing had exploded INSIDE MY HOUSE !!! We had already sold it … how would we have EVER gotten that stench out.
Seriously friends … I know you’re smiling at the ridiculousness of the image I have just painted but … good GAWD !!
I wiped a bead or two of sweat from my eyes that day.
Now you know the Canned Lobster story.
By way of shameless self promotion, Please check out a blog post I wrote about Lobster last year (the un-exploding kind) called: (click here) 1977, long hair, an overdue road trip, Lobster carnage and … the Bummer.
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Until next time Carnivores, stay hungry and as usual, please follow my posts on Twitter @DougieDee and like and share them on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/carnivoreconfidential
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