Soft shell lobsters have recently molted - shed their old shell when their bodies outgrew it - and are rattling around in a new house too big for their skinny bodies. Hard shells are tightly packed, like a fat man who desperately needs to upgrade to bigger pants.
So, soft shells have less meat, hard shells have much more. BUT - the soft shell meat is sweeter than the tougher hard shell. In the opinion of my dear wife Kathy, the more abundant but less tasty meat of hard shells isn't worth the $4 a pound difference.
Hauling the big fellas out of the water is no easy task - frankly, the ugly creatures would rather remain wet.
(I should point out, since this is a scooter blog, that I ride my GTS 250 to this store a couple of times a week for more lobster.)
Before cooking them, my wife likes to play with her food. Rosie - the cat on the left - understands that the rubber bands on the claws render the lobster harmless.
Fun time over, Kathy is ready for the serious work of dunking dinner into a pot of boiling water. Note that she wears an expression of "Yuck - this is gross!"
Twenty minutes later, and the memory of plunging a living creature into boiling water is replaced by the anticipation of a most tasty treat.
There are many ways to eat a lobster. This isn't one of them!
Kathy is surprised to see Teddy back - he who so recently fled from the Attack of the Living Terror from the Deep. Now, he wants to share. "Don't eat from my plate," bellows my sweet-tempered wife.
"Fine," says Teddy. "Can I have it if it somehow falls off your plate to the floor?" Note that as Teddy tries to push the lobster to the floor, Kathy's blurry right fist is aimed at Ted's head. (No cats were harmed during this meal.)
This is Kathy's best-selling painting, named "Lobster Love."
These are a pair of my favorites. I think the lobster is about to toss a knuckleball.