There is no better feeling than the hot sun on my hair and face as I resurface for humid summer air coming out of the lake. Sitting down that afternoon with no worry about when I’ll wake back up from my nap, but before long I’m being called into the kitchen to help prepare dinner. Everyone has something to do, getting ten people moving all at once is Nana’s job. My dad and grandfather always cooked the lobsters outside, because my Nana can’t stand watching them go. My cousins and I relay silverware, butter and salad to the table in preparation. Eventually the table is set, my cousins are all bickering which implies that stomachs are empty, and the lobsters are race car red. Sitting down for a family meal with my cousins only comes in the summer months, so we take advantage of the weather by eating outside. Once the first claw is cracked, conversation starts, and memories are made.

The family all sits down together around two large tables with red or blue pattern tablecloths, one table always lower than the other. Two large bowls sit at each end of the tables awaiting empty shells and raw corn husks infused with butter. The smell of seafood and summer air is whisked away as my grandfather opens the grill, taking off the burgers for all the hungry cousins who refuse to eat lobster, mostly because of the eyes looking back at them. Silver spears and crackers are placed around the table, although it’s inevitable that one set will work the best, and be passed around to crack the biggest claws. Knowing my Grandmother the butter dishes have probably been passed down from her grandmother and everyone has their own, lobster is too sacred in our family to use the same butter. Plates are loaded and somehow Nana always lands the biggest lobster, which probably has something to do with who passes them around. Rubber bands get taken off and at least one of them gets flung across the table, followed usually by yelling or whining. There sits everything in the room, picture ready after planning, traveling, cleaning, cooking and no lunch in anticipation of the best dinner of all summer. 

There are few ways to differentiate while eating a lobster, claws, tail, and legs make up a fairly simple meal. It is interesting to watch everyone in the family do it differently, for example all the legs come to me and my grandmother because others don’t have the patience to pick out each section. My dad, brother and Nana all love steamed oysters, so the rest of the family sits and watches them slurp down the slimy bottom dwellers they swear are delicious. Corn on the cob is passed around and is arguable the most symbolic food on the table. Grown no more than ten miles away on our favorite local farm, moulton’s corn is a sign that summer is in full effect and we take advantage of the heat by having it almost every night over the summer. My mother is a big advocate for corn over the summer and says this summer meal is also one of her favorites because “Summertime means were outside on the porch, in the sunny and warm weather with the family; we probably were out on the boat before dinnertime and nothing sounds better than that during this february freeze”. My mom loves the warm weather and everything that comes with it. When I asked my dad what he thought “It’s also my favorite summer treat, our yearly splurge: fresh boiled lobster, steamed clams, corn on the cob, salad, bread, and never enough lemonade”.