#24: An ace that I can keep

I want to take a minute to acknowledge that while "The Gambler" is a critical piece of the American lexicon, that video is boring.  (But press play anyway and you'll have a nice soundtrack for the rest of this post.) You see, I don't have any photos to accompany the following announcement, so Kenny will have to do...

I have accomplished #24 on my 40 by 40 list! I have learned to play poker, as measured by the fact that last night I went to a poker room and actually played poker without making a total fool of myself.

First, I discovered that Mystic Lake (aka, the only nearby casino with slots) no longer offers poker, so after playing some slots, we headed down the road to Canterbury...home of my next hobby (as soon as I have an income again), horse racing. They have a card room, which I had never partaken in before, but, with my husband's encouragement, I marched up to the lady at the desk, said "I want to play hold 'em," and procured a spot at a table.

This table was playing 2/4 Hold 'Em. Since the extent of my experience so far had been playing with my husband and kids, I had no idea what the "2/4" meant, but it was the table with an open spot, so I sat down anyway. This was a 10 person table. No one but the dealer even acknowledged me, which was fine...I of course threw my cash on the table and had to be told to wait until the next hand. (Oh yes, yes of course...)

So they set a giant stack of $1 chips in front of me and I try to figure out what's going on. My at-home play had taught me the basics - as in, I knew what a good hand looked like, but playing with actual poker players is a little different than playing with your kids. The first few hands happened so fast with raises and folds that no one was showing their cards. The woman sitting next to me was knitting and barely seemed to be glancing at any of the cards, yet was winning some of the hands. The dealer was turning over 5 cards, not the 3 we had been practicing with. What is going on?!

I panicked and almost gave up. My husband, who wasn't playing, but was perched behind me, whispered "You're okay." I gritted my teeth and committed.

Slowly, I calmed down. It started making sense. I realized everyone in a poker is a liar. Obviously I knew bluffing was a big part of the game, but I hadn't realized it was most of the game.

I missed a chance to win with a pair of Jacks  - I folded and the dude only had a pair of 3s. We hadn't practiced a lot of bluffing at home. But I kept going. I gave back the bad cards without wasting a bet. I didn't fold every time someone raised, even if I was pretty sure I had nothing. And I won a hand!

Sadly I did not discover that I am a gifted poker player, ready to hit the professional circuit. I lost $70. But I learned a lot. And I was brave. And I accomplished something!

And I'd still take slots over poker any day.

On a (lobster) roll!

Today is my two week layoffiversary and what better way to celebrate than by crossing #39 off the 40 by 40 list: Cook a lobster.

By the way, I didn't wake up counting the days since I'd been laid off, I remembered it when the dental hygienist innocently asked me about work. Still, once I realized it, I enjoyed my midday, sunshiney walk around the lake with a friend just a little bit more. Add in my husband getting the night off from work, and it was time to cook some lobsters!

Maybe the way I worded this one is confusing because I think I really wanted to experience killing a live lobster, not just cooking any old lobster. In retrospect, I guess that's sort of morbid, but it seemed like an experience anyone who likes to cook should have. Just like the pie, I wanted to know that I could do it.

So we located the nearest grocer selling live lobsters and watched as our two were fished out of tank and put in a bag...then we watched that bag wriggle around all the way home.

This recipe in Bon Appetit was my catalyst for deciding that this was the month the lobster would be cooked, and the printed magazine also included a handy dandy guide to killing a lobster, which is where I learned the tip to put them in the freezer for 15 minutes to anesthetize them first. (Truth be told, they didn't seem all that sleepy after even 20 minutes in the freezer, but in my mind they had fewer feelings that way...)

I'm sorry, lobster. I'm going to slice you in half now.

If you've never held a live lobster, you might not realize that they're kind of gross. Like giant insects with claws...giant, wet insects with claws. But I gritted my teeth, and followed the instructions. This recipe was for grilling the lobster, so I had to hold the squirmy things down and cut them in half...alive. Which seemed better than hearing them scream in the boiling pot of water, right up until I was actually plunging the knife into them.

Pleasant is not a word I would use to describe that experience. They wiggled around the entire time. Also, lobster shells are very tough and I had to have my husband help me get the knife all the way through. And they were still twitching even after they were completely cut in half.

Then, I got the things open and had to scrape out the tomalley and eggs...

Sweet dreams are not made of this.

Are you horrified yet? No? How about if I told you that they were still twitching when I put them on the grill? Shudder.

But now comes the more glamorous part.

Gorgeous, right?!

This is why you pay the big bucks to eat lobster in restaurants...you want to get on the lobster bus right about here.

The grilling was simple. 6 minutes meat side down, flip, 3 minutes, done. And then we got...

Ta-da! I'm amazing!

So we ate like kings. Well, we ate the two lobsters. (I think you probably should buy one lobster per person...file that away for your next lobster party.)

Traumatic killing experience aside, it was fucking delicious. And I'm proud of myself. Goodbye, #39! You've taught me that unless I am trapped on lobster island, where live lobsters are my only food source, I can happily go through the rest of my life without doing that again!