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A lobster roll with fries at Bob’s Clam Hut in Kittery, Maine

After a few days of rather dreary weather here in New England, yesterday was delightfully sunny with a light breeze and a high around 60 degrees. Kathryn and I used this as an excuse to take a drive up the seacoast. We started in Salisbury, Massachusetts, and made stops in Hampton, North Hampton, and Rye, New Hampshire. By the time we got as far north as Rye, we realized we weren’t far away from Kittery, Maine, where Bob’s Clam Hut is famous for its lobster rolls.

On the drive from Rye, we passed a number of other seafood restaurants, some of which had good-sized crowds. In light of the wind, which was getting a bit heavier, I hinted to Kathryn that maybe we should stop where we could eat inside. Now, I haven’t been to Bob’s Clam Hut since I was a teenager, at which time it was indeed a hut with outdoor picnic tables. Kathryn had been there a couple years ago and wondered what I was talking about. For a moment I wondered if we were talking about the same place, but I decided to trust her and pressed on.

Well, she was right. The old hut was still there, but it had clearly been greatly expanded, including an indoor seating area. Inside, we found some historic photos that showed how I remembered the restaurant.

There was an extensive menu, but we didn’t read it. We knew we drove there for the lobster rolls.

I like lobster rolls, but I’m no connoisseur. That said, this lobster roll was worth crossing two state lines. As you can see from the photo, lobster was the star of the show. I’ve had lobster rolls where the first taste was of mayonnaise. That was certainly not the case here. I could imagine someone had boiled a lobster, carefully broken it apart, lightly buttered the meat, and placed it on a toasted New England-style hot dog bun. I could even distinguish the different parts of the claw. It was, as far as I was concerned, perfect. The fries were great too.

My only complaint, admittedly a minor one, was the needless virtue signaling of not putting out straws for customers. They offered free refills of lemonade, and I wanted to take some along for the drive back to Massachusetts. Instead of straws, they offered heavy plastic sipping lids. I’m not sure how using gobs of extra plastic is better stewardship of the environment, much less when factoring all the extra napkins I needed to wipe lemonade off my chin. The fact that the cup itself was made of plastic, rather than the far more common paper, made it so much more ironic. Perhaps someone saw an internet photo of a porpoise with a plastic straw in its blowhole and decided to “do something,” even if that something didn’t make a whole lot of sense.