Saltwater Summer
Kitchen Takeover: Lobster Mac with a Twist
From Karyl’s Cook & Tell Newsletter (July, 1983)
Oh, billowing sails over rippling waves! Oh, blue-green breezes through daisies and buttercups! Oh,July! Oh, summer!
Along the Maine coast, as often as summer winds blow sunbeams around islands, harbors and coves, it blows fog. All the hues and shades of summer weather offer their distinct and special blessings. We firmly believe, for instance, that every sunny day owes us at least a brief respite from the day’s duties, so we can wave at passing neighbors and summer residents from a chaise on the porch. A foggy day makes us glad our Shetland sweaters never made it to mothball storage. And fog makes kitchen projects pleasant: We bake in a frenzy, make soup, before more sunshine preempts those cozy indoor inclinations.
Year after year, as each summer brings another July, we are as surprised by the familiar signals as if this were the first summer we have ever spent in Maine, as if these are the first steamed clams we have ever eaten while sitting cross-legged on the porch deck, the first time we have ever seen sailboats fill the harbor.
Yet we have lived here for years. And every summer, we live our year-round life, with its household and professional demands, just as anyone lives a year-round life anywhere else, with one big difference. No matter how “daily” our life is during June, July and August, no matter how organized, scheduled and deadlined it is, every summer spent on the Maine coast in this old house that has sheltered us through past falls, winters, springs and summers, turns out to be a vacation.
It is an illusion we cultivate. We never take summer in Maine for granted. From our porchside vantage point, we ask each other how the rest of the population of the world ever gets from May to September. We wonder, from under our yellow awning, what life could possibly be like without boats and blueberries, lobsters and lighthouses, fog horns and foul-weather gear.
Bob loves our island house because it’s like a camp, he says, quick to assure me it is the casual comfortableness of the whole place, not my casual style of housekeeping, that earns it that designation. So, in summer, when other people in other places pack up and leave home to go to their camps and cottages, we stay put and enjoy all the amenities of a summer cottage in our camp right here at home. There is no place we would rather be.
At the dining room windows, now wide open, gingham curtains undulate softly. This, for me, is the quintessence of all summer cottages in fantasy or reality. Once in a while we will act out a scene from what I consider the ultimate summer night—going to bed before dark, before the last bit of light in the sky is swallowed by night’s final yawn. When we were young children, staying up until nine o’clock was a privilege reserved for summertime. Our eyes would strain to stay open until the lamp of day had gone out at last, flickering into stars and fireflies. It is scarcely different now. From our pillows, on those early-to-bed nights, we watch those same stars appear one by one through the thickly-leafed branches of the chestnut tree framed by our window. No Christmas tree was ever more enchanting.
If there is more to summer than Shetland sweaters in the fog, a yellow awning in the sun, gingham curtains blowing and stars in a chestnut tree, I think I’ll come upon it without ever having to leave our island off the coast of Maine.
Karyl’s Headnotes
Many Maine restaurants have put a gloss of gourmet on a good old home cooking classic by working lobster into classic, creamy macaroni and cheese. So we tweaked a recipe from a past issue that subscriber Victoria Kline calls her go-to mac and cheese—“best I’ve tried”—and came up with our own lobster-studded version.
LOBSTER MAC & CHEESE
Two 1 and 1/4-pound lobsters (about a cup of picked lobster meat)
2 c. (dry) elbow macaroni
1 ½ c. milk
2 T flour
¼ t. salt
Dash of cayenne pepper
12-14 oz. smoked Gouda cheese, cut into small chunks
2 T. butter
1/3 c. panko crumbs
Cook the lobster and drain until cool enough to handle. (Note from Amie: You could take the easier route as I did, buying your lobster already steamed in shell from the market.) Extract all the meat. Cut the larger pieces into smaller hunks but not teeny. Total yield from my two soft-shell shedders: about a cup of lobster meat.
Preheat oven to 350. Butter a 2-quart casserole dish. Cook the macaroni according to package directions, drain and turn into the casserole dish. Blend well the milk, flour, salt and cayenne in a blender. While it’s running, slowly add the cheese chunks. Yes, in a blender. You read that right. Expect plenty of noise. Blend until you have a thick, smooth mixture. Pour onto the macaroni and gently toss in the lobster meat. Shake the dish to distribute everything evenly.
Melt the butter in a small pan and stir in panko crumbs. Sprinkle over the casserole. Bake about 40 min. or until golden and bubbly. Remove from oven and let it set for 15 min, but good luck with that.
Amie’s Endnotes
On the advice of Ren, a local self-appointed food critic/builder who did a fine job leveling my old garage not too long ago (“after a while, we all start to lean,” was his wry comment), I swapped out the cheddar originally in this recipe with smoked Gouda. Ren was right. This cheese perfectly complements the lobster’s sweet, delicate flavor.
Earlier this month, I tested out this dish in Bangor friend Mel’s gorgeous, newly-remodeled kitchen. Also a subscriber who’s cooking her way through the menu of Cook & Tell recipes, Mel put her prep-cook skills to the test and we went to work. We served it for lunch and her husband and son (all of us, actually) loved it! The smidge of cayenne gave it a nice little kick, too.
A special welcome to all our new subscribers; I’m so glad you found us! Here’s a note from Susan D, who recently rediscovered the “new” Cook & Tell:
Twenty some years ago my best friend and business partner gave me a subscription to Cook and Tell. I am now retired and while sorting through my recipe basket I came across old issues from 1999 - 2001. I saved them all and still refer to them for favorite recipes.
I am sorting recipes to take to our lake home. I wondered if the author was still alive and found your link. I am so sorry to hear of your Mother’s passing…I am happy to hear you are continuing this legacy. I always enjoyed the stories and the humor and the wonderful recipes.
Just wanted to send a note and let you know Cook and Tell found its way to the Pacific Northwest and Idaho and is still loved. Thank you for good memories and good food.
How sweet that Susan D. found you and that you have continued your mom's tradition. It is just lovely. I do like a hint of cayenne in my mac 'n cheese too.
we never take summer in Maine for granted, indeed! Wonder what your mother would have thought about this fog-socked summer... . ..