The late Emily Post described lobster as “finger food because otherwise the meat in the claws cannot be eaten, unless the claws have been not only cracked but literally broken in half.”* Etiquetteer thinks of it as Combat Food, because the enemy is formidable, the right weapons are needed, and it’s not always clear who the victor will be.
In your Lobster Armory, you will need for each diner-combatant:
A bib, to be tied around the neck to protect one’s clothes. No matter if you believe yourself adept enough to go without, Perfect Propriety must be maintained. Wear the bib!
Lobster crackers, to crack the shells of the large claws, and other bits you’re having trouble with. They are hinged at the very end so that the whole claw can fit inside. Novices might try to use a pair of pliers; don’t make this mistake.
A nut pick or seafood fork, to poke about inside the various shells for tasty bits you missed.
A finger bowl, because one’s hands will not come out of this unscathed. Etiquetteer loves it when a thin slice of lemon floats on the top of the warm-but-not-hot water. Of course the modern equivalent of the finger bowl is the moist towelette. Etiquetteer considers more than one per person not just generous, but necessary.
A waste bowl for all the shells and other detritus. Some restaurants offer a rustic acting-and-appearing bucket as an element of Down Home Local Color.
When served your lobster, first tie on your bib. Then wrench off the large claws, with a minimum of dramatic flourish. “They should be cracked in the kitchen,” notes Amy Vanderbilt**, “but further cracking at table may be needed.” (If they have not been cracked in the kitchen, you are within your rights to ask the waiter to assist you.) You will need to use your bare hands to hold the shell apart so that you can extract the meat with your fork.
The lobster tail is where most of the meat is found, and you may need knife, fork, and fingers to get it all out. Best to get the meat out whole if you can. Once extracted, cut large pieces down to bite size. Then dip your lobster meat into your clarified butter with your fork and consume with Obvious Satisfaction.
For those who are really committed to vanquishing their lobster, there are the small claws to consider. “The small claws are pulled from the body with the fingers,” Mrs. Vanderbilt teaches us, “then the body-ends placed between the teeth so the meat may be extracted by chewing (but without a sucking noise).”*** That sort of Obvious Satisfaction is not Perfectly Proper.
Small wonder Etiquetteer prefers Lobster Newburg! To all the lobster enthusiasts Etiquetteer wishes a Perfectly Proper National Lobster Day today — and to those who prefer it not, a Perfectly Proper avocado salad with vinaigrette.
*Etiquette, by Emily Post, 1950, page 501.
**Amy Vanderbilt’s Complete Book of Etiquette, 1952, page 241.
***Ibid.