My Maine Squeeze

“The Maine Stage.” “Maine Street.” “My Maine Lady.”

All good options for this post’s name. But My Maine Squeeze? C’mon. It’s got it all. It’s a pun. It evokes love and enthusiasm. It’s the name for the Maine post! The Maine part of the country is not close, to basically anything. But you know that this rambling duo is almost always up for the drive.

First, the lobstah. If your dietary restrictions include a shellfish allergy, you may want to skip this part because, I assure you, the Maine lobster is everything you want and more. It all starts with the hot tub time machine where our lobster friends bravely sacrifice their lives in a rolling boil straight out of the adjacent sea. Only minutes later they emerge, glowing red and orange, emitting a steam that could heat up your Nordic style sauna. You admire the plate and then Crack! Maybe it’s the tail, maybe it’s a claw, but some part of the seemingly impenetrable shell has indeed been penetrated! And then, like Poseidon with his triton summoning the powers of all the oceans, you use a miniature two-pronged fork to extract a tender, chewy morsel of Under the Sea perfection. (And Ariel can sing again!) It’s rich. It’s even richer if you dip it in melted butter, savory, liquidy, golden, melted butter. Sure, cut the richness with a joyous squeeze of some fresh lemon; toss on some old bay or a light mayo sauce if you must. Might I even suggest pairing your meal with a natural wine or an ice cold beer? Whatever the order of operations may be, I think it probably boils down to a simple Crack, Eat, Repeat.

Second, Vacationland. The word “Vacationland” is Maine’s entire state motto. The ethos of land dedicated to vacation is palpable. Case in point – everyone in Maine calls their cabin a “camp.” Like if I were a Mainer referring to my cabin in the woods, I would say “I’m going to my summer camp.” Incredible. Just by using “camp” it’s like the entire state is conspiring to incite a week long holiday at an outdoor destination where you braid each other’s hair, and tell campfire stories, and make best friends for life! It’s not like cabin, which almost immediately inspires the sense that I’ll have to somehow survive the upcoming endeavor.

And then, there’s the water. There’s just beautiful water everywhere you look! Now many of you can attest to my general apprehension related to H2O. My main complaint is that water is always wet, and typically quite cold. But despite this ongoing gripe, I, like many desert creatures, can still appreciate water’s important role in the psyche (and I guess its importance in actually keeping all of us alive). The lake life, the river life, the seaside cottage life – count me in. Even lacking the compulsion to jump in the respective body of water, I’m not going to turn down a cup of coffee in an Adirondack chair overlooking crystal clear waves or a naturally fed babbling brook. I’m not a monster.

So big shout out to all the Mainers out there – all 108 of you. Even Susan Collins. Susan – what the heck is your deal? Call me. I would love to know.