Butter, Baby: The Superior Lobster Roll

Let me tell you about the best lobster roll I ever had. It was a Tuesday in August, I was sitting at a picnic table with my shoes off, and warm butter was running down my wrist. I did not care. I was in heaven.

That's what butter does. It makes you not care about anything except the next bite.

The Case for Butter

A butter lobster roll is honesty. It is a lobster, barely out of the ocean, kissed by butter, placed in a warm bun, and presented to you without pretense. There is nowhere to hide. The lobster is either excellent or it isn't. The butter is either good or it isn't. You taste everything.

A mayo lobster roll? That's a disguise. Mayonnaise coats. Mayonnaise masks. Mayonnaise says "I'm not sure about this lobster, so I'm going to make sure you can't taste it directly."

Butter says: here. Taste the ocean. I dare you.

Harold Will Disagree

My dear colleague Harold Benchley III—and I use "dear" with all the affection of a thirty-year rivalry—believes that mayonnaise represents tradition and therefore correctness. He has written, in this very publication, that butter is "aggressive" and "overwhelming."

Harold's last new experience was the Reagan administration, and it shows.

Butter is not aggressive. Butter is confident. There's a difference. Butter walks into a room and says "I am delicious." Mayonnaise walks into a room and says "I hope you won't notice me."

The Science (Yes, Really)

Lobster is sweet. It's one of the sweetest proteins in the sea. And what pairs with sweet? Fat. Warm fat. The kind that melts on your tongue and carries the lobster's natural flavor directly to your taste buds without any tang, any acid, any distraction.

Mayonnaise adds tang. It adds acid. It adds a creamy note that competes with the lobster. Why would you do that? Why would you take one of the most delicious things on Earth and add something that competes with it?

Butter enhances. Mayo competes. Choose your fighter.

The Temperature Argument

Harold likes his lobster rolls cold. I like mine warm. This is actually the core of our disagreement, more than butter versus mayo.

A cold lobster roll, bound with mayonnaise, is... fine. It's a salad in bread form. It's acceptable lunch on a boat when you can't heat anything.

A warm lobster roll, dripping with butter, is an experience. It's what the ocean intended. It's lobster in its most primal, delicious form. The bun is toasted and yielding. The lobster is tender and sweet. The butter is liquid gold.

You cannot make this with mayonnaise. Warm mayonnaise is not food. Warm mayonnaise is a health code violation.

A Word on Mess

Yes, butter lobster rolls are messy. Butter runs. It drips. It gets on your hands and your chin and possibly your shirt.

Good.

The best food experiences are tactile. They engage all your senses. A butter lobster roll demands your attention. It says: be here, now, eating this. Don't check your phone. Don't think about work. Eat this lobster and deal with the butter.

That's not mess. That's presence.

My Invitation

If you've only ever had mayonnaise lobster rolls, you've only had half the experience. Try a butter roll. Just once. Find a place that serves them warm, with good butter, with lobster that was swimming that morning.

Sit somewhere with a view. Take a bite. Let the butter run. Decide for yourself.

I'll be here, waiting to say: I told you so.

The lobster doesn't care what you put on it, Harold. The lobster is dead. Let the living enjoy themselves!