Two days in Buffalo, and my dad buys me a lobster.  I’ve been waiting my whole life for a man to buy me a lobster.  And there he was…all along; the man who impregnated my mother seven times.

Those who know my father all agree.  He’s the best.  Kind, funny, and can walk around  HomeGoods for ninety minutes without complaining.  And once in high school,  when a girl won the affections of a boy I really liked, my dad said, “I don’t understand why he didn’t ask you out, you’re the much nicer person.”

And then he ate the lobster meal I prepared like this:

*dinner scene from “What About Bob?”

So, because my dad said this was really good, and he doesn’t lie, I’m sharing this recipe with you.

Lobster Scrambled Eggs

• 1 cooked lobster purchased by a person who loves you
• 1-2 TBS butter
• 8 eggs
• 1/4 cup double cream
• 1/4-1/2 tsp Old Bay seasoning
• chopped chives
• sour cream (optional)

1. Clean the lobster of as much meat as you can, and cut into small bitesize chunks.
2. Heat the butter over low heat and cook the lobster until just hot.
3. Whisk the eggs, cream, and Old Bay seasoning.
4. Add the eggs to the lobster and cook over very low heat until done to your liking.
5. Sprinkle with chives.
6. I topped my eggs with sour cream and additional Old Bay seasoning, but everyone else thought it looked gross.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSXoDC5rgQw

**Oddly, this is mine and my father’s song.  I think we only ever acknowledged the “I feel glad when you’re glad” portion of the lyrics and ignored the rest.

Last Saturday, me and a guy from Thailand sewed a duck’s butt together.  It was for a cooking class, but I’m not sure if that detail matters?  He was, and remains, a stranger.  Yet, we had a moment.  He’d just put the final suture in the duck’s backside, and, while I have never cinched anyone’s butt-hole into a water-tight seal…I could tell he’d done a fabulous job.  I bit my lower lip in admiration.  “You’re very good at this,” I told him, my voice breathy, almost hoarse…I hadn’t realised I’d been holding it.  He raised an eyebrow, and gave a playful smile that tuned my face a shade of watermelon.  I can’t lie; it was a bit sexual.

The rest of the class was a blur.  Our teacher, Ms.******, took turns verbally abusing us…four unsuspecting people whose only crime was a desire to learn authentic Hong Kong cuisine.  There were moments I was certain the degradation would spark into something physical, but it never did.  Luckily, over the course of the ten-hour day, a warm glaze of Stockholm Syndrome obscured our senses.  We learned a variety of Hong Kong Chinese specialties, were berated for our wok skills, and told pretty much everything about our individual cultures, culinary skills, and the way we handled ourselves, was wrong.

It could be the recent shock of settling back into the outside world…perhaps I’m searching for a greater meaning behind what I endured.  But I highly recommend Ms.******* classes.  The food was delicious, I learned a lot, and it was a memorable experience.

If you’d like to know more about Ms.******* classes, please let me know.  I’ll message you privately.  She forbids any mention of her classes or recipes on any social media platform, so I’m leaving out identifying details purposely.  As you can imagine, I am terrified of disobeying her any more than I already have.

Roast Duck-The Pitiful Lunchadora Way

*This is not Ms.*******’s recipe.  She would be horrified to be associated with this.  I thought it was fine.  But, I’m a maggot.

• 1.2 kg duck
• salt
• five-spice
• fresh ginger

1. Preheat the oven to 170c/340f.
2. Rub the duck with lots of salt, inside and out.
3. Add a bit of five spice powder if you have it.
4. Slice some ginger and put in the cavity of the duck.
5. Place the duck on a wire rack in a roasting tin.
6. Cook for around 2 hours.
7. The leg meat will pull off the bone when it’s ready.
8. The skin should be crisp, and you can turn the heat up to 200c/400f for a short while until it’s really crispy.
9. Serve with cucumber, spring onion, and hoisin sauce.

*Done two ways, both great.

*Don’t think about Bill Cosby.  He doesn’t own the pudding pops in your head anymore.  I do.  You’re welcome?

I couldn’t post last week.  I didn’t have the words to make the horror unfolding on this planet any better.  All I knew was that putting up a gluten-free donut recipe had the potential to make it worse.

I want to be clear about this.  Hacking my way through this week’s entry doesn’t mean I suddenly feel useful, or believe that the world is a less awful place than it was a few days ago.  It’s a dreadful sinkhole to be sure…but it’s also dotted with majestic waterfalls, rare young men who prefer to date older women, and llamas. (It took me twenty minutes to think of three things I appreciate about the world today, but they are pretty great.  Try it, I bet you’ll think of some messed up and wonderful stuff.)

No. The real reason I’m writing is to give folks a non-alcholic popsicle alternative for Memorial Day next year.

http://jezebel.com/ivanka-hopes-you-had-a-nice-memorial-day-with-your-cham-1795639574

Chocolate Pudding Pops

• 2 cups coconut milk, 1/2 cup set aside
• 2 1/2 teaspoons gelatin powder
• 1/2 cup maple syrup
• 50 grams unsweetened chocolate bar, chopped into chunks
• 1 tsp vanilla
• dash of salt

1. Sprinkle the gelatin over the 1/2 cup coconut milk and leave to “bloom” for five minutes.
2. Heat the remaining ingredients over medium high heat, until the chocolate is melted and incorporated as much as possible.
3. Add in the gelatin mixture and stir until fully incorporated.
4. I put the mixture in my vitamix and blended on hight for 30 seconds until completely mixed.
5. Pour into popsicle molds and freeze overnight.

There was a big election in France.  I don’t know the particulars, other than the lady Nazi didn’t win, and that the man who did loves him some cougar-town…and that okay won over evil.  That Justin Trudeau is happy, which somehow makes me feel slightly less alone, and also that the entire world isn’t completely ignorant…just most of it.

Anyway, I thought I’d share a macaroon recipe that French people would find just a little bit gross.  Which, being both an American and Brit, I am.

Macron Macaroons

• 1 cup shredded, unsweetened coconut
• 1 T coconut flour
• 1/2 cup plus 2 T coconut milk
• 3 T honey or maple syrup
• 1/4 t vanilla extract

1. Preheat the oven to 180c/350f.
2. Line a baking tray with parchment paper.
3. Combine all ingredients in a saucepan.
4. Heat the mixture on high and simmer for two minutes or until thickened so that it is firm enough to scoop out in ball shapes.
5. Remove from the heat. Scoop into balls onto the baking sheet.
6. Place in the oven and bake for 12 to 15 minutes. Check every few minutes so they don’t get burned.
7. Remove from the oven once cooked and transfer to a wire rack and wait until completely cool before removing.
8. These are good enough for my brother, but maybe not anyone else.

I’m not feeling very creative, so I’ll write a review of the last movie I saw.  In this instance, it’s a review of the movie “Fantastic Beasts.”  I watched it at my brother’s house over the weekend.

Okay, here it goes:

I had no idea of what was going on, but I liked the animals.

And what the heck.  I watched the first few episodes of “Big Little Lies.”

I don’t recommend watching the abuse-then-sex scenes between Nicole Kidman and Aleksander Skarsgard with your brother, because you’ll both feel the need to condemn their relationship rather than just enjoy the visuals.

Egg-Free Coconut Macaroons

• 1 cup shredded, unsweetened coconut
• 1 TBS coconut flour
• 1/2 cup plus 2 T coconut milk
• 3 T honey or maple syrup
• 1/4 tsp vanilla extract

1. Preheat oven to 350f/180c and line a baking tray with no stick paper.
2. Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan and heat over a medium heat for 2 minutes until thickened.
3. Shape into mounds with an ice cream scoop.
4. Bake for 10-15 minutes until golden.
5. Allow to cool, and remove from the pan with a spatula.

I’m writing this blog, sitting on a screened-in porch, listening to a southern gothic music compilation, and wearing cowboy boots.  All that’s missing is a boyfriend with a red pickup truck who’s cheating on me with someone five to seven years younger.  Man, I wish I had more time in Tennessee.

My goal was to describe the magic of Dollywood and Graceland, the crunch of a hot chicken sandwich,  and the band I saw that consisted of three men who looked exactly like Casey Affleck…the handsome farmer I was ready to buy half a steer off of just to get close to; but I can’t do it justice.

So, instead I’m go eat some BBQ get drunk.