On the circle of life.

Tonight, I have to murder a lobster. I’ve been in culinary school for over a year and have managed to avoid this nasty task. This is largely because despite how many thousands of dollars I pay them to educate me, they remain cheap jerks who never let me play with the cool stuff. The very few times I’ve had to cook lobster, they’ve arrived at my work station pre-murdered by way of the steamer. This sounds awful, but is in many ways easier to deal with. A commercial steamer is a hulking piece of equipment with heavy metal walls and no windows. The poor lobster may be scalded to an atrocious and painful death, but I don’t have to watch it, and more importantly, I don’t have to hear it.

Tonight, though, the lobster is all mine. It is a key ingredient in the cioppino I am tasked to make. The lobster must be incorporated to the stew murdered, but raw. No steaming allowed.

I have to hold down this lobster and STAB IT IN THE HEAD, you guys. Like, are you getting this? I know I have a reputation of finding abhorrent violence hilarious, but that is largely towards people, the dumb ones, and not innocent sea-life. Don’t get me wrong – lobster is delicious. And I’m trying really, really hard to accept the concept of being willing to kill for my food. I’m trying really hard to give the whole idea of respecting the creatures that die for my nourishment, and treating them with dignity, and blah blah, hug a damn tree. This is all awesome in theory, but I’m still – at the end of the day – left with the task of wrangling something living and making it NOT so. With a giant knife. While it’s looking at me.

I swear to god, if it screams, I’m dropping out of school and pursuing a career in accounting.