Hummerstag 2008

Miss Edith and Notarius have a friend who, eight years ago, decided that every year we three must celebrate a holiday known to us as Lobster Day. In Germany it is known, of course, as Hummerstag. It began when Notarius and I were grocery shopping one summer day and noticed that lobsters were on a deep sale. "Hey! Let's have lobster for dinner!" we said. Little did we know what we were getting into. Our friend joined us for dinner that night and said, "This is great! Let's do this every year! Lobster Day!"

Hummerstag is held on a different date every year, as far as I can tell; Hummerstag is a kind of moveable feast, and its date is determined by something to do with when the Red Sox are playing the Yankees. Miss Edith knows not and cares not how the date is determined; her job is simply to cook. So as long as the groceries are obtained in good order, Hummerstag can take place any old time. But it's usually sometime in July.

The Hummerstag menu revolves, of course, around lobsters, which are obtained at a local supermarket and then killed with pomp and ceremony and ruthlessness by Notarius, who grew up on Cape Cod and is unafraid of lobsters. "Here, Bug, Bug, Bug," he'll croon as he opens the noisy paper bag holding the lobsters. We used to have a ceremonial Harassment of the Kitty every Hummerstag (our cat is, surprisingly, afraid of lobsters) but now he's old and we just leave him be. He sleeps through Hummerstag and that's fine: he's earned it.

The menu for Hummerstag has evolved over the years. Initially it was lobster, corn on the cob, potato salad with red peppers and scallions, and maybe some green vegetable as another side dish if I was feeling guilty about serving so much starch.

Then it was lobster, corn on the cob, caprese (fresh tomatoes sliced and served with fresh mozzarella and basil, a dish easily created here in the summertime since we live within spitting distance of several fine Italian grocery stores), and couscous salad.

Then we dropped the corn on the cob because, frankly, boiling the water for the corn made our house far too hot. It was bad enough doing one pot for the lobsters; two pots was just murderous. To tell you the truth, I miss the corn -- I love corn on the cob -- but the kitchen is much more comfortable now that we only worry about one huge pot of boiling water and not two.

It's true you have to boil water for couscous, but not so much, and not for very long, and you can do it well in advance of cooking the lobsters. So I don't mind that at all.

Historically, dessert on Hummerstag has been either ice cream sandwiches (bought at the local supermarket) or brownies (made by Miss Edith), but this year we broke with tradition and served chocolate sorbet. This was a great success. I intend to teach myself to make my own sorbet one of these days -- Notarius received an ice cream maker for Christmas from someone, I can't think who, and I ought to learn how to use it -- but since I wasn't up to it this past Hummerstag, we sated ourselves with pints of Ciao Bella sorbet. If you haven't had this stuff, please go out now and buy some. I know it's expensive, but listen, darling: it's worth it.

Bottles of Prosecco go perfectly with Hummerstag meals. They must be very cold.

I've come to think of Hummerstag as a kind of summertime Thanksgiving that only we celebrate. I cook and cook and cook; we spend days shopping in preparation; there's always a ton of dishes to wash; and every year, even with all the work, I'm always so glad we did it.

And then Sunday, the New York Times Magazine talked about lobster... it was a Lobster Day Miracle.