The Bizarre Truth

The Bizarre Truth by Andrew Zimmern Page A

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Authors: Andrew Zimmern
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joint open at 5 A.M . to serve donuts and egg sandwiches to the commercial fishing crowd and dock crews. It sat about 500 yards down the road, but it was a world away in terms of culture. Real people ate, argued, and hung out at joints like Salavar’s, Lunch (the Lobster Roll), and the Quiet Clam. This was the sixties, before the jet-set crowd had yet to discover the Hamptons. And these were the unspoiled clam shacks we spent our time eating in.
    Now in his eighties, my father is still as tenacious a traveler as anyone. About five years ago, he moved to Portland, Maine. If you hold the state of Maine under a magnifying glass, you’ll see its coastline looks like a thousand little fingers pointing into the Atlantic Ocean. In some areas, these peninsulas are protected fromthe brunt of the Atlantic storms by islands, creating quiet waters perfect for fishing and lobstering. I don’t care how many times you’ve dined at fancy seafood restaurants in Chicago or New York: Until you’ve had lobster fresh from the cold waters of Maine, you really haven’t had live lobster.
    The very first time I visited Dad in Portland, he insisted we drive up to the Five Islands Lobster Company for what he felt was the best lobster roll in the state. Five Islands is a third-generation, family-owned lobster company. Their food shack is like Red’s in Wiscasset, or Day’s in Portland, one of those under-the-radar joints whose address is passed among foodies like heroin junkies trade reliable connections. I am probably performing an act of culinary self-mutilation by revealing my most precious source, but here it goes.
    Five Islands is one of those rare food finds, if you can find it at all. You drive about forty-five minutes north of Portland on I-295, make a right, and head east on US-1. You begin to head east down county road 127, onto the paved road, turn left onto a dirt road, and you’ll drive right up to the eighty-year-old, barnlike wooden structures where you can park and get some fresh air. Just look for the signs saying Five Islands Lobster Company—you can’t miss it. The family still goes out every day and lobsters. That’s their main business. You can sit and watch their boats coming in with crates and crates of lobsters, some headed off to the world’s finest restaurants and fish shops. However, the family keeps the best stuff for themselves. Steamer clams, haddock, hake, clams on the half shell, local shrimp, oysters, or their famous lobster: It’s fresh, delicious, and they’re cooking it on the spot.
    Enter the wooden swinging door and you’ll notice the requisite mugs, T-shirts, and bumper stickers for sale at the counter. Crayon and marker-drawn cardboard menus line the walls of this crazy little room that houses a cooler you fetch your root beer from and the counter where you order. Somehow, they’ve managed to squeeze a kitchen into the back of this teeny space. Everyoneorders the same things: Maine lobster rolls or deep-fried clams, or in my case, both. These items pair perfectly with their made-from-scratch dill-and-lemon tartar sauce, homemade coleslaw, and hand-cut French fries.
    The thing that sets Five Islands apart from the rest of the clam shacks I love is not just that the lobster marches straight from the traps to the kitchen. This family takes their product so seriously that they don’t want a giant food-service truck unloading on their dock. They could doctor up a decent tartar sauce from a jar, but they don’t: They make their own from scratch, and the quality of their lobster rolls and hand-dusted fried clams is well beyond that of their competitors. The Five Islands lobster roll is a singular experience. You don’t even notice the mayonnaise coating the meat, even as you put the overstuffed toasted hot-dog bun into your gaping maw. If you can stop yourself at just eating one of them, you’re not really a lobster roll aficionado. I am usually good for two, plus a little side order of clams.
    Now,

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