As Promised...

Last Sunday night, Troy and I were shopping at SAM's. We happened across some lobster tails which were on sale and looked to die for. They were HUMONGO! We love lobster and lots of other seafood and have prepared it all at home before and decided it would be a nice dinner to have before I went back to work from my vacation. We eat at Uncle Julio's all the time and split their awesome "Cadillac platter" which is fajitas but with a grilled lobster tail. It is absolutely SCRUMPTIOUS. It is our Saturday "reward meal" after a long week of living right with moderate diet and exercise. We head over there right after our 10:00 Weight Watchers meeting, LOL.

I came home and "googled" grilling lobster tails and all of the sites indicated that this was a fairly simple task, takes "no time", and that even a "novice grillman" can pull this off. I am quoting. That's what it said. Even a novice.

We luckily figured out that our lovely tails were frozen and needed to thaw first so we put off our meal until Monday evening. Troy came home and fired up the grill and I pulled out our prizes and started to prepare them. Well, they felt awfully cold and I realized that there was still some ice in the package. So, all the sites say you can run them under cold water to thaw them quickly- no problem. I proceed to do this and am starting to wonder how I will know when they are thawed...since they are in the shell? I can feel some of the meat outside of the shell and I think I am doing a pretty darned good job on my end of this deal and they appear to be defrosting nicely. The best I can tell anyway.

For those who aren't aware, my dear husband is allergic to shellfish. But in a really weird way. He can EAT shellfish- and it doesn't bother him. As long as it is WARM. He can't eat crab legs or shrimp that have been cooked and placed on ice, and he can't touch any cold shellfish- whether it is cooked or not- or he will swell up like the Michelin man. He tried to cook me a shrimp dinner once soon after we were married and I walked in the door to find him puffed up like the marshmallow man on Ghostbusters with his fingers unable to bend at the knuckles and pathetically looking at me saying, "I'm sorry honey! I tried, I really did!" I thought I was going to have to take him to the ER. I was horrified! So, people make fun of us, but whenever we go eat seafood, if it is cold at all, I have to do the peeling for him. That's just the kind of dedicated wife I am. (Cue LOL's from the peanut gallery.)

So, I have finished what I believe is my part relating to the lobster grilling experiment and Troy comes over to inspect my work and says, "Okay, now what do we do?" I look at him with confusion by his reference to WE and indicate that my handy work is complete! I have defrosted the meat. He says, "Well, I can't touch it, and we have to cut it out of the shell." I glare at him. Then I proceed to cut open the lobster on what he then points out is the WRONG side of the shell. Umph. Flip it over. Start again. I am not strong enough to get through the HARDER part of the shell. He is going to have to touch it. He gets the lobster out, and proceeds to wash his hands. The break out is already starting, but luckily no swelling yet. I think we are on the right path and moments away from enjoying our lobster delight. (Remember the google search? Takes NO time!)

Troy disappears outside with our scrumptious looking tails after I have seasoned them appropriately and I stay inside and begin cooking our very healthy brown rice and vegetables and setting the table. For some reason, I decide to head outside to watch my babies cooking on the grill. "Um." I look at the grill and tilt my head in confusion. "Troy, isn't the meat supposed to be on the grill? Not the shell?" Troy glares at me. "I have no idea!" He practically growls at me! I noticed that the rash was spreading. I am still happily anticipating my feast this evening and so I am confused by the glares. "What's the matter," I ask innocently. "This is stressing me out," my poor husband responds.

I realized at this point we might be well out of our comfort zone. He is trying to pull the meat out of the shell now, he nearly drops it in the fire at least twelve times and I am on edge not wanting my yummy dinner to burn up in flames. "Careful!" Now I am growling. His rash is getting worse. The lobster is now on the grill (meat actually touching the grill) and starting to curl up. Oh, yes, I think I remember now, we were supposed to soak some wood skewers and put them through the meat. Whoops. I keep quiet. Troy is poking them and says, "They are curling up. Did google say anything about that?" Hmmmm. "Maybe, I can't be sure. I might remember something like that. But wood skewers need to soak for 30 minutes, so too late now." More glaring. And more curling.

The websites all said that the lobster needed to cook for 10, 12 minutes tops, about 5 to 6 minutes on each side. We were working on 20+ minutes at this point and the meat still appeared to be slightly raw. We proceed to flip them. More curling. Still looking kind of raw. I decide that if I spoon my garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice marinade over them, perhaps it will help them cook. (I know, sounds yummy, huh?) I start to put one little spoonful on top of the tails and flames shoot up everywhere. I scream. Troy snatches the spoon. "Be careful! We are almost out of olive oil! Don't spill ANY." I am snapping orders now even though I am clearly not capable of handling the situation on my own. More glaring. Rash still spreading.

We finally decide that they are as cooked as they are going to get, after all, they have been cooking for 3 times the recommended cook time! We don't want our lobster getting tough. Who likes tough lobster? We bring our precious dinner inside and cut them open. Still look raw. "5 more minutes," I suggest but also more like a question. Glaring has now passed, sighing has begun. The tails go back outside. 10 minutes later, we decide they are ready to eat. Back inside to the table where the rest of the food is now ice cold.

Whenever we eat dinner at home together (happens rarely due to our schedules), I am the one who says grace. I take Troy's hand and we bow our heads. "Dear Lord," I begin. I am quickly interrupted by my husband. "Please just let me live." My head snaps up. "What!?" He looks truly panicked now. He thinks he is going to die. I glare again. I finish grace (also requesting that the good Lord let him live- after a little bit of thought) and proceed to eat my brown rice. He starts eating his grilled pineapple. I move to my pineapple. He moves to his rice. I am glaring more. "Are you going to eat that lobster?" He assures me that he is. "When?" He assures me he is just waiting for it to cool off for a minute. It has been cooking for like 6 hours now so it actually might need to cool off a bit. I'll concede the point.

After another 10 minutes, we each have nothing left on our plates except our big, honking, curled up lobster tails. He cuts off a small piece. I am watching, anxiously waiting. He puts it in his mouth. Next thing I know, he is gagging, spitting, and glaring some more. "It's not cooked," he declares. "WHAT?!" (I am yelling now.) We cooked those danged tails 4 times as long as they were supposed to be according to google! I even watched a you tube video! NOVICE grillman can fix them! That's a quote! My husband is NOT a novice grillman by any means, so just what is his problem that he can't cook this lobster?! He is poking it with his fork. (Probably still praying too.) He finally asks..."Are you sure this lobster was defrosted all the way?" Hmmmm. I do seem to remember some ice in that package. "Yes, I defrosted it by hand, under the water." He wants to know how I knew it was thawed. Since he was the one that cut it out of the shell. Hmmmmmm again. "Well, I suppose I can't be POSITIVE." More glaring.

We threw the lobster away. Good thing we also picked up some Cheerios at Sam's and that we both like eating cereal for dinner. Oh, and probably a really good thing the man loves me and vice versa. :-) Anyone want to come over for dinner next weekend?