Slip it into a fresh bit o’ pita bread at D’Angelo’s and I am one happy lunch camper.
Now, the purists will howl because it IS November; and the only proper time and place for a lobster roll – ermm, pocket – is summer and some lunch shack on a New England beach (preferably a Maine beach – for the really picky lobsterfolk).
I didn’t get to New England this summer; so I’m not about to quibble with having the opportunity to spend $10 for a smallish sammich at a chain shop west of Boston in November. Especially when it was GOOD! The lobster tasted fresh and sweet, and there wasn’t too, too much mayonnaise. I can’t even take issue with the size o’ the sammich; I like lobster, but it is kind of rich, and for me, a little goes a long way (tho’ my friend Randy once managed six, I think, whole lobsters at one sitting – he claims the key was to avoid the drawn butter). In any event, it may be cold, damp and gray outside; but it’s a summertime beach in my tummy.