We’ve shown you the menu, and now here’s exactly where to find everything at the Grub Street Food Festival tomorrow from 10 a.m. till 6 p.m. at the corner of Hester and Essex. One lucky person will want to circle Luke’s on this map (see a larger version here), because we’ve chosen the winner of yesterday’s contest asking for your best lobster tales. As moved as we were by stories of impromptu feasts at drive-in movie theaters on Prince Edward Island, first dates (and first rolls) at Luke’s Lobster, impressionable five-year-olds treating lobsters as pets only to see them boiled alive, all-you-can-eat church dinners, and impromptu three-hour road trips to Maine, we chose the winner because it actually taught us something— namely, that there’s a group of people who regularly retire to an old hotel on a New Hampshire island to feast on sloppy lobster seconds. Yes, it’s just a little bit gross, but anyone who goes to these lengths to suck out the neglected remains of a lobster leg deserves four fresh rolls on us. Here’s that person’s story. If it’s not yours, don’t worry— we’ll be raffling off a $100 gift certificate to Char No. 4! Just stop by our table tomorrow and sign up for the Grub Street newsletter. See you there.
As an official member of the Star Island Lobster Body Cartel, I have had the most amazing lobster eating experience one could imagine and should be chosen for your free lobster roll at the Grub Street Food Festival.
Picture a large cafeteria in one of the country’s oldest hotels. Oh, and this hotel is on a remote island off the coast of New Hampshire. Now picture this cafeteria filled with people, all of whom are stuffing their faces with fresh, New England Lobster…
There’s one table in this cafeteria that’s different from any other. At this table, an elite crew of the island’s most avid lobster enthusiasts sit and feast on the remains, or lobster bodies, of every other diner in the cafeteria. A mountain of lobster carcasses rests in the middle of the table. The luck few seated at this table feast until no shred of lobster meat or gut remains. Sometimes, it takes them late into the night. These fine, masochistic, lobster-loving few have been dubbed, ‘The Star Island Lobster Body Cartel’.
I sit at that table. I endure the wonderful, painstaking food orgy that has become the trademark of the Cartel. As such, I feel I am entitled to a free lobster roll at the Grub Street Food Festival.
