America: 50☆Stars (Vol. 3)

Episode 10: Lobster Love

Everyone knows Maine is a maniac for lobster. It's her favorite crustacean as well as her favorite seafood. Lobster fishing is even one of her favorite things to do. Whenever she goes out to sea with lobster pots in tow, she'll always catch plenty of lobsters. She'll release the smaller ones to allow them to grow, and she'll also release the bigger ones to allow them to breed the next generation, especially the ones carrying eggs. Between the minimum and maximum sizes, there's a median range of lobsters she can keep. What she does with the ones she keeps are cooked immediately at home while they're fresh. But on rare occasions, she'll find a lobster that catches her fancy and keep it as a pet. Although, these rare occasions are becoming more common in recent years.

"Maine," Massachusetts sighs disappointedly, "I think it's time for an intervention."

"But why?" She stops in her tracks, appearing bewildered by what her brother said. "I've taken good care of all the lobsters I caught. I've been very responsible."

"I know, but that's not the issue. My concern is this hobby of yours getting...out of control."

It's quite normal to have an aquarium situated in a hallway. In Maine's case, however, the largest hallway in her house is devoted to several saltwater aquariums built in the walls. There are seven 200-gallon tanks in total—each one the dedicated home of a single American lobster. Aside from a normal-colored lobster that was too feisty to get into the pot, most of the lobsters that are being kept as pets are rare color morphs that are just too pretty to be cooked. They include a blue, a red, yellow, a calico, and a split-tone of orange and black. At the end of the hallway is the seventh tank, completely covered underneath a pitch-black sheet. This is Massachusetts's, Connecticut's, and Rhode Island's first time seeing the mysterious tank, yet they can already guess what it'll contain.

"Another one?" Rhode Island groans. "You really called us over here to show off another dumb lobster."

"This isn't just another dumb lobster!" She pouts. "This one is the prettiest I've ever seen."

"Wasn't the prettiest the calico you caught many years ago?"

"It was until I caught this one," Maine smirks, referring to the mysterious tank behind her.

"When did this love for lobster become an obsession?" Connecticut whispers for only Massachusetts to hear.

"I don't know who or what gave her the idea to keep lobsters as pets." He scratches his head. "Still, it's hard to believe she used to hate lobster a long time ago."

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It was the early nineteenth century. Lobsters were commonly called the cockroaches of the ocean. They were dark brown. They were everywhere. And they were loathed for being gross.

Everyone assumed the bottom-dwelling crustacean tasted like ammonia from eating garbage off the seafloor. Hence, lobster became widely known as trash food only eaten by people of the lowest class. Prisoners were served lobster daily, much to their chagrin. Indentured servants who knew better would make a point in their contracts not to be fed lobster more than three times a week; it was considered unjust cruelty to eat more than that. Poor families who couldn't afford Boston baked beans at 53¢ a pound would have to settle on canned lobster sold at 11¢ a pound. Some people were evil enough to feed lobster to their cats. Lobsters that weren't eaten were usually used either as fertilizer or as fish bait; those options could guarantee a better tasting food at least. Otherwise, lobster was left to waste away without much sympathy. Even Maine despised them, preferring to starve than eat peasant food.

"Milady," the servant knocked on the bedroom door, "do you intend to not eat tonight?"

The preteen in her rebellious phase sniffled, "What choice do I have?" It was humiliating enough to be grounded again after another intense argument with her big brother. To apologize for her behavior would be another blow to her dignity. Going without food for the night seemed like the better option in her opinion.