Montauk, part two: Lunch time.

Our first order of business in Montauk? Two hours on the beach. Our second? Lobster rolls.

After spending some time sunning ourselves on the sand, we piled into our cars and headed west to Amagansett, home of The Lobster Roll, better known locally as Lunch. The paper placemats on our table listed endorsements from celebrities as varied as President Nixon, Barbra Streisand, and Christie Brinkley & Billy Joel (in case you thought this restaurant was new, it's clearly not).

We ordered drinks (mine was the Lobster Ale, which was pleasantly satisfying and a bit round in the mouth) and lobster rolls - plus some clams casino. (Thanks, Stacey!)

As you can probably guess from its given name, Lunch is known for its lobster rolls, and they were pretty good. Flavorful meat, tasty toasted buns, and a touch (perhaps too heavy a touch) of celery. I liked the mayonnaise to lobster ratio and the not-at-all mayonnaise-y coleslaw, but there was something missing here, some alchemy that I've found in other rolls that just didn't make itself known. Solid, though? For sure.

Lobstah, part two.

It's become a tradition. Each year, for my brother's birthday, my sister-in-law and I collaborate on a kitchen clambake and lobster boil dinner. So, of course we took care of business in Maine this time around. Miriam managed to wrangle us seven lobsters for $35; they were delivered to our door in the trap, and our instructions were to pour some ice over them - or tie them to the dock until dinnertime.

We follow Ina Garten's recipe for this seafood extravaganza. We start off with a giant stockpot, in which we saute leeks and onions, then throw in kielbasa, potatoes, two kinds of clams, mussels, a bottle of white wine, and finally, the lobsters. (You have to dispatch them first, since steaming is a cruel/impractical way to go about things. More on that here.)

The result is an immense pile of delicious, wine-scented seafood, potatoes and sausage. (We strongly recommend going heavy on the sausage and potatoes, as they are remarkably tasty.)

Dessert, of course, is birthday cake. An incredibly reliable, simple, rewarding cake - preferably topped with sparklers in place of candles.

Let's talk lobster.

When in Maine - unless one is a vegetarian or allergic to shellfish - one must eat lobster. The crustaceans are everywhere. Their caricatures - invariably painted a bright red-orange - stare at you from practically every wall. Retired lobster traps litter the landscape, and buoys marking the ones in use clutter every view of the water. Maine is awash in an embarrassment of lobster riches, and you must partake.

I ate no fewer than five lobsters rolls during our week in Maine. I started off with a whimper (a crappy, overpriced specimen at a restaurant in downtown Rockland), likely because I failed to consume my lobster roll within spitting distance of the Atlantic. This mistake was rectified the following day with a visit to Waterman's Beach Lobster, a famous seafood shack about 15 minutes from our (pretty isolated) rental on Rackliff Island. See that, up there? That's their James Beard award.

Waterman's serves their lobster chopped in large - but not giant - chunks, dressed lightly in mayonnaise and what one imagines is tightly guarded combination of spices (I'm guessing small amounts of pepper and salt). The lobster - pulled out of the ocean just beyond those picnic tables up top - is succulent and tender, fresh as can be. The bun - a non-traditional hamburger roll - is toasty and warm, lightly brushed butter. It's a higher bun to lobster ratio than I typically prefer, but the salad itself is pretty marvelous.

The coleslaw, by the way, is also delicious. Sweet and crisp. And the dill-er-iffic potato salad is a way better side than the complimentary bag of Lay's.

The next day, a few of us took a little ride down to Wiscasset, home to the famous Red's Eats, a lobster roll truck so popular it causes traffic jams up and down Route 1 - as well as to Sprague's, the competing shack across the street, which sits on an adorable little dock and is, according to pretty much everything I've read, actually better than Red's. And short lines, to boot!

I did enjoy the Sprague's roll - more on that in a moment - but they're also pretty good at the stuff that comes alongside. The homemade raspberry lemonade, for example? Sweet, tart, refreshing. Summer in a plastic cup.

And they also have fried green beans. I know, I know. They sound weird. But they are not. They are awesome. Verdant and peppery on the inside, crispy and summery fried goodness on the outside. And they come with ranch dressing, which is how you know you're in America.

Speaking of fried America, these are clam fritters. Basically, what we have here are chopped clams, savory dough, and what happens when you cross those two with a deep fryer. The outcome? Chewy, pillowy puffs, lightly scented with clam, perfect for dipping in tartar sauce.

Now we come to the point: Sprague's lobster roll. Of all the rolls I tried last week, Sprague's (which we visited twice) had the best lobster meat. Perfectly cooked, plentiful (they're famous for including the meat of an entire lobster in their rolls), and absolutely delicious. They skew traditional when it comes to the bun, going for a buttered and griddled version of what Louisa has termed a Yankee hot dog bun. Otherwise, nothing touches the roll but lobster. This is an exceptionally pristine version of the classic, with no butter or mayonnaise gracing the meat. Though I usually go in for adornment (at least a little), this roll was still my favorite of the week, mostly because the lobster was just so freaking perfect.

On our way out of the state, we made one last stop for a final meal. Two Lights Lobster Shack is in Cape Elizabeth, and sits perched beneath - you guessed it - two lighthouses. There was much to love at Two Lights - the view, the truly awesome, crinkle-cut fries, the perfectly sour pickle chips. I wanted to love the lobster roll, too - and I did love the sprinkle of paprika and the daub of mayonnaise. But, overall, it just couldn't compare to Sprague's. (Or, frankly, to my ideal mayonnaise-y roll, available here in the city at Pearl Oyster Bar.)

Of course, findings will need to be re-confirmed next summer. Sit tight.

In the beginning.

A first day in Maine requires a lobster roll and copious amounts of seaside time (preferably spent lolling about).
This trip did not disappoint.
On day one, we lounged on our Rackliff Island dock, enjoyed a superlative lobster roll at Waterman's Beach Lobster (whose James Beard Award was well-deserved), and generally enjoyed ourselves.
I mean...right?

Consider.

When my Aunt Cathi is around, one always eats well, and this weekend in Bristol was no exception. There were local yogurt with berries and her own homemade granola, homemade buttermilk waffles with fruit and whipped cream, steak with roasted asparagus...you name it.

And, on the Fourth of July, there were lobsters.

If you're a die-hard vegetarian, I highly recommend you skip the rest of this post.

I killed those lobsters, you guys. I killed them dead. Typically, I steam lobsters, along with clams, mussels and potatoes, in a couple bottles of wine. If you're going to do that, the best and most humane thing to do is to kill the lobsters with a knife between the eyes before you put them in the pot.

But if you're going to boil them, as we did ours this weekend, then you can just drop them in the boiling water. I've also heard tell that the best way to do boiled lobster is to start them in a cold pot and heat the water up around them, but I haven't seen any evidence that it's more humane.

It's interesting, you know, that the killing and eating of lobsters is so fraught for so many. After all, animals with far more complex brains die for our (non-vegetarian) meals every day. And I kill mussels and clams myself on a regular basis. Why should a lobster be different?

Well, it moves, doesn't it? It's a decent size, and it has distinguishable limbs, and it's altogether alive. But while I don't relish the idea of slaughtering my own meat on a regular basis, I can't help but think that being willing to take care of business where a lobster is concerned is an omnivore's duty. After all, if I plan to eat it, I should probably be forced to look it in the eye at some point.

If you feel like pondering the issue further, I highly recommend Consider the Lobster by the late David Foster Wallace. It's pretty excellent. (And a pretty good argument for why Gourmet was unique among food magazines.)

If you don't, here's a recipe for lobster.

Aunt Cathi's Lobster Boil

Giant stock pot half-filled with water
5 lobsters, about 1 1/2 pounds each
1 lemon
1/2 stick salted butter*

Set the stock pot on the stove, cover, and bring to a boil. Gently place the lobster in the boiling water and replace the cover. Cook for 11 minutes, or until the lobsters are bright red and the antennae pull off easily.

Meanwhile, slice the lemon into five wedges and melt the butter over low heat.

When the lobsters are done cooking, remove from the water with tongs, allowing each to drain a bit over the pot before placing on a plate or platter.

Serve the lobsters one to a person, with ample napkins, lobster crackers and tiny forks to go alongside. Portion the butter out into five ramekins and place a lemon wedge alongside. Go to town.

Serves five.

*This is pretty much the only time I'll tell you to use salted butter.

On a roll.

I've lived on the Upper East Side of Manhattan for about seven years now. That's meant enduring seven years of raised eyebrows, "Oh, I'm so sorrys," and "But where do you eats?" Truth is, I moved to the neighborhood for the cheap rent, and stayed for the convenient commute. But, finally, my years of patient waiting (broken only by marvelous dinners at the now-shuttered Bar États-Unis and the slightly-too-dear-for-everyday Spigolo) seem to be paying off. The Upper East Side is creeping ever so slowly toward becoming cool.

No, really.

A few new places with cred have opened recently (not to mention the Shake Shack due to start slinging burgers by the end of the month), including an uptown branch of the downtown seafood mecca, Luke's Lobster. Jeremy and I visited their original East Village shop back in March, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The rolls are plain and simple: lobster, butter, salt, pepper and a touch of Hellmann's, served up on a butter-toasted hot dog bun.

Now that they're so close to home, I've gotten the chance to try the shrimp roll, which is similarly unadorned, and just as tasty. The shrimp are small and tender, and pop lusciously in the mouth. For me, the buttered roll is half the point of a seafood roll, and the shrimp's less aggressive flavor lets the roll shine even brighter - so that made me pretty happy.

Most exciting of all, Luke's uptown branch has installed a Fryolator and will soon be serving fried belly clams. (As early as today; the staff needs to conquer some eyelash-singeing hiccups first.)

This New Englander couldn't be more excited. Bring. It. On.

Luke's Lobster
242 E. 81st Street (Between 2nd and 3rd Avenues)
212.249.4241

A little bit of Maine in the East Village.

Continuing our tradition of exploring the city's best lobster rolls, my brother Jeremy and I met up for a pre-theatre lunch at Luke's Lobster on Saturday afternoon. Luke's, in the East Village, has a distinctly different sensibility than our last lobster roll venue, Pearl's. While Pearl's is a sit-down restaurant with wine and desserts, Luke's is a strictly order-and-eat-at-the-stool-in-the-window kind of place. Both, though, have their roots in the classic New England seafood shack.

Where Pearl's roll is more of a salad roll (mayonnaise, onion, celery), Luke's is pure and simple. The generous heap of lobster meat is served in a butter-toasted hot dog roll (the classic choice) and topped with more butter (drawn, this time) and some dusty, diner-style black pepper. The lobster itself is fantastic - juicy, tender and full of that wonderful, clean flavor of the North Atlantic.

Even better, you can feel good about eating the seafood at Luke's. It's all sustainable, caught in Maine, and shipped in quickly. I'm not saying that being virtuous makes the food taste better, but it sure doesn't hurt.

Jeremy also ordered a cup of the clam chowder, which was stellar. It's hard to tell from this photo, but the soup was full of little chewy bits of fresh clam and tender potato. It was creamy, but not overwhelmingly thick, and had that nice sweetness I look for in a seafood chowder. I can't wait to go back and try the shrimp and corn chowder, and soon.

Overall, our verdict is that Luke's is a fabulous bargain ($14 for a lobster roll) and delicious. Our heart, however, remains at Pearl's. Both of us prefer a lobster roll that bites back, even just a little bit. And it's no secret that I love me some mayonnaise. That said, I highly recommend a trip to Luke's - a must for any seafood-loving New Yorker, for sure.

Anyone have a vote for where we should head for our next lobster roll?

Luke's Lobster
93 East 7th Street (Between 1st and A)
212.387-8487

Saturday night at Tru: upping the ante.

After our night at Charlie Trotter's, I wasn't sure what kind of dinner I'd be able to consume at Tru on Saturday. Then I picked myself up, reminded myself that I'm a food blogger and of the power of mind over matter, and met Nick and Louisa at their hotel for a pre-prandial cocktail.

We walked a few blocks south and east to the restaurant, which is one block off of Michigan Avenue, toward the lake. We sat for a few minutes in a sort of anteroom graced by several pieces of modern art (neon and bright colors abounded against the pure white walls), lilies on every little table, and a cart of after-dinner drinks. After our table had been readied, we made our way into the main dining room.

Tru is in an office building, and the dining room is dramatically high-ceilinged. The large windows are dressed in dramatic velvet drapes, and the widely-spaced tables are covered in white linen and surrounded by chairs upholstered in blue velvet. Nick found the dining room a bit severe, but I quite liked the serenity of it all. Some of the art was particularly pretty, especially a gray-and-white photographic print of birds in flight hung over the banquette on the southern wall. Loved.

The service at Tru was as impeccable as the dining room. Once we sat down (with little velvet stools for our purses - also very convenient for this photographer's camera), our head waiter brought us our menus and a wine list, along with three little gougères made with Comté cheese. These were delicious - light, flaky, and buttery - but I missed the peppery bite of Parmesan from my own homemade version.

As you can see, the table was beautifully-lit for photographs - like this one of our two kinds of butter (unsalted on the blue glass, salted on the green). The butter was AWESOME, as was the bread. Our unanimous favorite were the teeny, salted brioche rolls. Delicious.

After perusing our menus for a bit, we decided to do the standard three-course meal, which we thought would be a nice break from our tasting menu marathons at Trotter's and Alinea. We each ordered an appetizer and a main, Nick discussed wine with the charming (and adorable!) sommelier, and out came our amuses.

They were three little cups of seriously meaty and perfectly clear beef consommé, with a teeny ravioli at the bottom. I loved my sea life-themed cup, and the soup's deep flavor and expert execution seemed to telegraph the arrival of a good meal.

Oh, did I forget to mention this? Well, my friends, this is Tru's caviar staircase. As Louisa rightly pointed out, it looks like something out of an Esther Williams movie. This is the culinary equivalent of a show-stopping pool number if ever there was one.

From top to bottom, you have four types of caviar (starting with creamy Osetra), egg yolk, egg white, capers and red onion. Each of us was presented with toasted, buttered brioche, a dish of crème fraiche and a mother of pearl caviar spoon. We dug in like kids in a candy store and didn't stop till every last bit was gone. Can you blame us?

Hot on the heels of our caviar came our appetizers. Louisa ordered the beet salad with apples, which came with three different kinds of mousse (One was pumpkin, but the others escape me - Louisa, help a girl out?). The salad was fantastic; the beets were perfectly cooked, and the mousse that I tasted was creamy and full of pumpkin-y flavor. And, like everything else at Tru, it was gorgeously presented.

My appetizer was a very indulgent choice: seared foie gras served with a roasted pear, a strip of crispy bacon and a chestnut cream. Foie gras and autumn fruit are a classic match, and this pairing didn't disappoint. The pear was tart and lightly sweet and cut the rich foie gras quite well. The bacon lent a smoky note to the proceedings, while the chestnut cream (dotted with whole chestnuts) grounded everything with its earthy flavor. Magnificent.

Nick's starter was the beef tartare, which did not photograph well, but tasted amazing. Louisa and I agreed that it was a close second to our all-time favorite, the steak tartare at Camille in Paris. The presentation of Nick's dish was just as pretty as ours - the egg was coated in gold leaf. Really!

The organ meat parade continued during our main courses. Louisa ordered the veal cheeks and sweetbreads, which were served with an onion tart, figs and raisins. Tender, meaty and full of rich, fruity flavor - this dish was delicious. I loved the play of textures between the sweetbreads and the veal; after all, these are parts of the same animal, and for all their differences, they have some of the same precocious, just-beginning-to-develop beef flavor.

I decided to round out my ridiculously self-indulgent evening with an order of the lobster. Poached lobster was served on a bed of the most tender pasta I've ever tasted. The sauce was creamy and spiked slightly with tomato and rosemary and studded with perfectly-cooked broccoli. I can't remember the last time I saw broccoli pop up in haute cuisine, but its peppery, vegetal bite worked marvelously - I tasted the lobster in a whole new way.

Nick's main was, again, in the dark. He had the venison, and though venison is not my favorite thing, this version was deeply flavored and beautifully cooked. The meat was a jewel-like magenta color ringed by a razor-thin black sear. The best part of the venison, in my opinion, was the cabbage-wrapped cabbage that came along side. Cabbage taken to the next, sweet level. Amazing.

Next up, that lovely ritual of civilized dining, the cheese plate. I rarely partake, but I had a hunch that the cart at Tru would contain at least one or two cheeses that even this cheese-phobic could love. Most delicious of all was the cheese at 10 o'clock in the photo above - a triple cream, mustard-coated cow's milk cheese.

Eaten on a house-made hazelnut wafer with a bit of orange blossom honey, the triple-cream was a little bit like heaven, except not light and fluffy. Not light at all.

After a palate cleanser of tapioca and sorbet flavored with herbs and citrus, it was time for...

...dessert! Tru is a collaboration between savory chef Rick Tramonto and pastry chef Gale Gand. I've been a huge fan of Gand's ever since her show first aired on the Food Network way back when, so I was very excited for the last few courses.

Nick pre-ordered the gianduja souffle, which came with pumpkin ice cream. Louisa had the blueberry and lemon vacherin (you can see it in the background above), which was INSANELY good. The buttermilk cake was like a pancake, elevated, and the contrast of the warm cake, creamy mousse and cold sorbet was delightful.

My dessert, the deconstructed chocolate bar, blew Charlie Trotter's chocolate out of the water. A gravity-defying squiggle of milk chocolate cream was topped with a bit of tempered dark chocolate, accompanied by Butterfinger-esque crunchies, coffee ice cream, caramel mousse, and malted caramel. Oh. My. God. Just a few days prior, I'd been talking about how much I prefer fruit desserts to chocolate ones. If Gale Gand made all my chocolate desserts, she might just end in converting me.

But wait - there's more! Out came the mignardises on their little cart (Again, note the elegant, French-style service - carts galore!), and I couldn't help myself. I tried five out of six options available. The pumpkin macaron was a bit too soft and sweet for my tastes, but I do have to admit it melted in my mouth.

Just above that is the apricot marshmallow, which was delicious. Fluffy as a cloud and impossibly fruity. The chocolate-whiskey lollipop was nice and boozy (we were warned ahead of time that the alcohol hadn't been burned off), and the passionfruit pate de fruits made me very, very happy (as all jellied things are apt to do.

Finally, the cannelé, which was a revelation. I've never been much of a fan; the cannelés I've tried have all been far too rum-soaked for me. I'm not a rum-lover, and I don't care for mushy pastry, so you can see my issue. This one, though, was perfect. The rum glaze had hardened to a satisfying crunch, and the spongy cake inside was, well, spongy - not mushy. I must master the cannelé.

And, finally, the last touch that signaled a trend in the weekend's dining. These pumpkin-saffron truffles were huge, but we were instructed to eat them entirely in one bite. As it turns out, they were coated in only the lightest chocolate shell, and the filling was a milk-like (as opposed to ganache-like) consistency. All of that meant one thing: it exploded in your mouth.

Trust me when I tell you that - no matter how long or specific the disclaimer - you are never, ever prepared to have something explode in your mouth. (Insert your giggling here - believe me, we did.) It's delightful and surprising, every single time.

All in all, I think it's safe to say that I loved our meal at Tru. I loved the service, I loved the dining room (though, like Louisa, a bit more buzz would've been welcome), and the food made me indescribably happy. It's not revolutionary, but it's interesting, and is also beautifully and thoughtfully done.

I can't wait to go back.

Tru
676 N. St. Clair Street (between Erie and Huron)
Chicago, Illinois
312.202.0001

The lobster roll at the end (well, middle) of the bike path.

Last weekend, I went up to Bristol, Rhode Island to visit my Aunt Cathi at her new digs smack on the water. My family are a bunch of New Englanders at heart, and it's nice to finally have a member of the parental generation back in the neighborhood (especially when she's as good a cook as Cathi happens to be).

She and my uncle are splitting their time between a fantastic condo in Bristol and a home in Dallas; I haven't seen the latest Dallas place, but I can tell you that the Bristol residence is spectacular. Downtown Bristol (the most patriotic town in American, apparently) is adorable and eminently walkable, and Cathi's condo is part of a complex made entirely of salvaged industrial buildings. The view from the pool gives you an idea of what a gorgeous spot this is:

On Saturday morning, Cathi took me on a tour of her favorite local food shopping destinations (more on those later, I promise). That afternoon, we took a (very warm) bike ride down the East Bay bike path, through Colt State Park, and on to Warren for lunch at Blount's clam shack.

We split the nine-inch lobster roll, which came with a side of fries and coleslaw. The lobster itself was great - tender, flavorful (almost definitely cooked in seawater) and cut into manageably bite-sized pieces. The bun was similarly delicious. The traditional, side-cut New England hot dog bun was toasted all over and lined with a leaf of Bibb lettuce before receiving its precious cargo. The lobster was sparingly dressed with a mild mayo, which was the only thing I would have changed. I like a bit of tang in my lobster roll, and would have killed for a squeeze of lemon or a slightly kickier sauce.

Altogether, though, there's nothing bad about this kind of reward waiting for you at the end of a bike ride - am I right?

Family time.

On Friday night, I met up with my brother, Jeremy, at Joe, and we made our way downtown to Pearl Oyster Bar. We arrived at 5:30, a half hour before opening, and there were already about 10 people on line waiting to get in.

When the doors opened at 6:00, we hopped into two seats at the bar and ordered - oysters and a lobster roll for me, clam chowder and a lobster roll for Jer. Few people appreciate food the way my brother does, and he seems to have a special place in his heart for seafood - so it was really fun for me to share his first Pearl experience with him.

The oysters were fantastic - clean and fresh tasting, with just a hint of briny sea. The mignonette sauce was fantastic - bracing and full of tangy shallots - but the cocktail sauce could use a bit more zing. It was warm on Friday night, but the air conditioning was going full-blast, so the weather inside was just right for a bowl of soup.The clam chowder was rich and creamy, filled with bacon and chunks of potato.

And, unsurprisingly, the lobster rolls were amazing, though a tad overdressed with mayo that night.

Jeremy had to head over to the theatre, so we had to forgo dessert, but we agreed that next time we'd try the hot fudge sundae and the strawberry rhubarb pie. Yes, we're definitely related. Like you couldn't tell just by looking at us...

Queenie's Take: Boston ahoy!

This week's Queenie's Take comes to you straight from Twitter, where I asked people to send their most pressing food and travel questions. So, today we'll be talking travel to Boston, and next week it'll be shopping & cafes here in NYC. Without further ado...

We're in Boston Sunday through Tuesday. What should we do? - Danielle (@foodmomiac)

Good question, Danielle! As a former denizen of New England, I have some Boston favorites to share with you - and since I know you have kids, I'm going to try to focus on stuff that you can all enjoy together!

Boston is one of those towns that brings out my nerdy side - American history, academia, great art - for such a small city, Boston has an incredibly rich cornucopia of stuff to tickle your brain. One of favorite museums is the Boston Museum of Science, with its awesome mid-century-version-of-the-future architecture and its Leonard Nimoy-narrated planetarium welcome. They also have a butterfly garden exhibition right now - something Dylan is bound to love.

My other favorite is the Museum of Fine Arts, which has an absolutely magnificent collection of John Singer Sargent's works (though we have my favorite - Madame X - here in NYC). He's one of my favorite artists, and seeing so many of his pieces together in one space is truly awe-inspiring.

For the adults, a wander down Beacon Hill's Charles Street might be in order. Filled to bursting with great shopping (clothes, home design, and the like) and good restaurants, it's just down the hill from the State House, and makes a nice afternoon walk. My cousin and her husband live up near the top of the hill, and I'm falling a bit more in love with the neighborhood on each visit.

Finally, for me, there was nothing cooler about my early trips to Boston than walking the Freedom Trail. Along the way you can choose to visit Paul Revere's house, Old North Church (in whose steeple hung the two lanterns signaling the approach of the British soldiers), and the USS Constitution. If your kids are anywhere near as geeky as I was (er, AM), they'll be psyched.

As far as food goes, you can't beat Boston for seafood, and for that, there are two spots I'd recommend. First, Barking Crab, downtown. Awesome lobster rolls, great fried clams, and great grilled fish, too. And, of course, there's the all-time classic, Summer Shack. Voted best lobster roll in Boston two years in a row, it's worth the trek out to Cambridge to visit the original location of Jasper White's seafood mecca. We ate here when my brother graduated from college, and I still think about it.

We expect a full report!

Photos courtesy of Pear_Biter, Shooothead, mkrigsman and Dan4th on Flickr.