Eli Eats Blue Lobster and Sees Everything Seafood

Fall break is a much anticipated reprieve from college life, but it can also be a bit bizarre, especially if one is staying on campus to shoot their film project. It then gets really weird if that aforementioned project wraps by Saturday eve, meaning that one has three full days with nothing on the horizon. The campus is, in the words of ska revival band The Specials, “like a ghost town.” Friends have departed for warmer pastures. Professors are professing. There’s actually nothing to do, except Uber to the closest theater, the Picture Show in Berlin, Conn. (rest in peace Metro Movies), to see “You Can See Everything.” The good news is that, on the way, you can get lobster.

I knew I was headed out of town for the movie, and I wanted to expand my reviewing purview beyond the immediate Middletown area. So I did some research in bed, and found that right next to the theater is Blue Lobster, a well-rated seafood spot. My Uber driver was wearing my grandfather’s cologne. He stopped at a white and blue shack off the Berlin Turnpike next door to the Comfort Motel. I entered the shack and was greeted by decor that was half New Englander, half Floridian. Nets on the walls, sunsets framed, it was Coastal Grandson visiting Grandma in West Palm Beach. Fleetwood Mac played on the speakers.

I ordered New England clam chowder and a Connecticut lobster roll, which came with fries and coleslaw. For the uninitiated, a Connecticut lobster roll is served hot with melted butter, whereas a Maine roll is served chilled with mayonnaise and celery. There are strong opinions as to which roll is superior, and even before the meal, I was more than inclined to side with our state’s iteration. When asked her thoughts on the Maine roll, the manager of the restaurant, Cindy, paused before reticently stating, “They are popular.” Not exactly a glowing endorsement, but to be frank, I haven’t actually tried the dish, so who am I to judge?

The clam chowder arrived immediately, served in a styrofoam cup that was exponentially easy to spill from. Extremely creamy, chock full of clams and potatoes, a full bowl of this would place me in a glorious slumber. Thyme accented the heavier bits, as did little cooked-down bits of celery. I’ve tragically never had the chance to think about clam as a concept, and I evidently have some studying to do. Tasting of the ocean but less strong than an oyster, chewy but not tough, this is an exemplary seafood. The soup was then enhanced by the side of oyster crackers, which are the best crackers to grace God’s green earth. The hexagonal bits of wheat were pugnacious, to the point, and unquestionably powerful. Adding the salty nibbles to the heavy cream was a fantastic idea, and allowed the chowder to enter my definitive top-ten soup rankings (EliEats Substack subscribers know #1-9). 

Cindy also brought out little samplers of the restaurant’s Rhode Island chowder and lobster bisque. The Rhode Island chowder is nominally perplexing. Rhode Island is located in New England, so shouldn’t Rhode Island chowder just be New England chowder? But the soup itself is just New England chowder sans cream—the spirulina smoothie of chowders. I preferred the lobster bisque. Pink-orange, sweet enough to be a dessert, this was also a great soup. Easily #8 in the rankings. I’m sorry tom kha kai. 

Soon after came the lobster in a more solid form. I dressed the sandwich in butter, sprinkled a bit of lemon, and dug in. Huge, globular chunks of meat dissolved at first bite, gleefully introducing themselves to my taste buds. Little notes of lemon added a second dimension to the dish. The roll itself was most similar to Hawaiian rolls, and I’ve never met a serious person who dislikes Hawaiian rolls. In conclusion: great grub. 

To be totally frank, I’ve been a lobster disparager for most of my eating career. Maybe it’s due to the exorbitant cost of the crustacean, the money needed for the mollusk. Or maybe it’s because I live on the West Coast, and lobsters lose something when flown cross-country. The point is, every lobster roll I have on the East Coast is revelatory. So this is why people pay $35 for a four-bite sandwich! Huh. Who would’ve thunk? 

A final word for the sides. Firstly, the fries were most akin to Swings fries, and any gourmand of the University knows that the best fries on Earth are Swings fries. These tubers were a bit crispier than the concoctions those guys are coming up with under Writer’s Block, but still registered on the Richter scale. The coleslaw was also great. There’s a lot of proud coleslaw haters these days, but I’m a proud coleslaw lover. Have you people never been to a deli before? The ’slaw served. Mustard seed punctuated the dish, and there was a strong celery performance. Great meal overall for the worst part of the mirepoix. Did I only have three bites of the coleslaw? Maybe. But they were three great bites!

I departed the restaurant for the theater, where I had a joyfully strange time. I enjoyed the uncomfortable eye contact between Nathan Fielder and Elizabeth Holmes, and at the end of the film had no idea what to think, which I believe is the point. However, I did feel a bit of pity for Ms. Holmes being sent to prison, for one reason and one reason only: She couldn’t have this lobster roll. Shucks. 

Eli Pearl is a member of the class of 2028 and can be reached at epearl@wesleyan.edu.