The 10 Best Lobster Rolls of My Life (So Far)

Yankee Lobster roll looks like a prototypical lobster roll, but it didn't make the list.

Lobster rolls are a funny thing with me. The first time I had one, it was transcendendant. Fresh, tender, hot, buttery lobster — one of the best things I've ever eaten in my life.

And for some reason, probably because that best-ever lobster roll was consumed in Bar Harbor, Maine, a locale that's not easy to get back to, I continue to seek out that same level of perfection in other locations selling lobster rolls. I am often disappointed, and yet, unlike in the area of fish and chips (where I know the best best best ever fish and chips are served at the Ship Anson in Portsmouth, UK, and they have ruined me for life for all other fish and chips), I feel compelled to continue in my lobster roll superiority quest.

Let's talk about what constitutes a lobster roll. Traditionally, it was served cold, as a lobster "salad" roll, comprised of the less-desireable claw-and-other-bits meat and mixed with mayonnaise and perhaps some other spices or greenery. It was, essentially, a sandwich lobstermen could take with them for lunch while they were out doing their lobster thing.

Personally, and probably because that first roll I had was hot, I think it's time we moved beyond tradition. Because believe me, a good hot lobster roll beats a good cold lobster roll. Every. Single. Time. Sweet, tender lobster with a smattering of butter, all without any more manual labor than opening your mouth and chewing. Drool.

The trouble is, a lot of things can go wrong with a lobster roll. The bread is a common failing, and one that should be easier to get right. The top-split hot dog bun is best, buttered and grilled. Generally in my experience, restaurants fail when they try to depart from this. The lobster meat is another common failing. Although it's put on a bun and served as a sandwich, the lobster roll should still feature fresh, tender lobster. Many don't, unfortunately.

On a recent trip to Boston, I realized I'd passed more than 10 lobster rolls consumed, and perhaps it was time to start ranking them. I have hopes that some day another place will move in high in the rankings, but as I've tried many of the well-reviewed lobster rolls from D.C. to Boston, it's possible this is it unless I get back to Maine.

1. The Lobster Claw, Bar Harbor, Maine — A lobster roll should be relatively easy, but there are a lot of ways to screw it up. This place set the standard by doing everything right. Lobster fresh off the boat, cooked up in the back, and immediately plunked down on your roll with a side of butter. Pure lobstery perfection that started a quest. And sadly, perhaps no more, as it appears from Yelp that they're closed. Let us hope it's just for the season. I like to think someday I can go back to Bar Harbor and have another lobster roll this good.

Lobster roll and oysters at Abbott's Lobster in the Rough.

2. Abbott's Losbter in the Rough, Noank, Connecticut — Although the first hot lobster roll I had was in Maine, apparently the hot style is actually called a Connecticut-style roll. And Abbot's does a damn good job of it, although it serves it on a hamburger bun instead of the hot dog bun. It's clear the lobster is fresh, and cooked up fresh, and you get to enjoy it by the water. Wins all around, and enough to excuse the non-traditional bun, mainly because it's still the right texture and consistency, if not the normal shape.

3. Legal Test Kitchen, Boston, Massachusetts — I'm surprised a cold roll could rank this high on my list, but LTK does a lot of things right. The bread is the split, buttered and grilled hot dog bun, and the lobster meat, although cold, is clearly fresh and very tender, with just the right amount of mayo. There's a lot of meat, and eating it is a challenge that involves a lot of balancing; they should do without the piece of lettuce between the lobster meat and the bun and jam that meat in there a little more. Aside from that, though, I have no complaints.

The Daniel Packer Inn roll: so much potential, so many bread issues.

4. Captain Daniel Packer Inn, Mystic, Connecticut — The DPI got way too ambitious with its bread, putting some very good and more upscale (sherry butter and shallots, anyone?) hot lobster on a crusty bun that was nigh unchewable. With some nice, tender bread, it would have easily beaten the LTK roll, and might have even been ahead of Abbott's.

5. Luke's Lobster, New York, New York — A bit of a cross between a hot and a cold roll, this was served fairly close to room temperature with a bit of mayo and a bit of butter. It tasted better than it sounds, with fairly tender lobster meat on a classic split top hot dog bun.

6. Red Hook Lobster (tent), Washington D.C.-ish — I had one of Red Hook's hot lobster rolls from a tent they had at a festival, not from their line-around-the-block truck that moves around downtown D.C. I hope to rectify this one day and try the roll out of the truck, but for now, my impression of the roll was that, while it was nice that it was warm, the lobster meat had clearly been cooked beforehand and then warmed up. That is NOT the way to cook a hot lobster roll, and the meat ends up overly done and too chewy as a result.

Neptune Oyster's roll had tons of plate appeal, but didn't live up to it.

7. Neptune Oyster, Boston, Massachusetts — This one was rated well in the Boston foodie-verse, but did not live up to its rating, in my opinion. Problem number one was that, like Red Hook's, the meat was overdone and too tough and chewy. Problem number two was that they went with a brioche roll for the bread, and it couldn't stand up to the lobster and butter; it was mushy before I took the first bite. Oh, and problem number three is the $25 price tag. Now, I am as annoyed as anyone to read reviews about lobster rolls that complain about how expensive they are. It's a LOBSTER roll, people, not a turkey sandwich. However, for $25 that lobster should be melting in your mouth, and it wasn't even close. I do love the swanky-classic tiled interior of the place, but stick to the oysters here and go somewhere else for a lobster roll fix.

8. Tackle Box, Washington, D.C. — A fairly tender lobster salad roll, served on the classic bun if I remember correctly. Nothing to write home about, but not bad, either. I do enjoy the pseudo-beach-shack atmosphere, too.

9. J's Oyster, Portland, Maine — I had this one and the similarly unadorned Yankee Lobster roll within days of each other, but this one makes the list more on the strength of the J's Oyster ambiance than the roll itself. Yankee Lobster's definitely had more lobster, but I enjoyed my meal at J's more. And they did give you mayo on the side, so you could mayo to your own preferences.

10. Hank's Oyster Bar, Washington, D.C. — Another salad-style roll, a little too heavy on the mayonnaise, although that's preferable to completely unadorned (a pile of cold lobster is surprisingly untasty). Another place to stick to the oysters.

Closing a lobster loop

There was an article in the New York Times today about the lobster industry on an island in Maine, and it reminded me that I had been meaning to close the loop on something.

While I was blogging about my trip to New England, I posted about the mind-blowing lobster roll I'd had in Bar Harbor, Maine, still the pinnacle of my lobster roll eating experience. I remembered it as a tiny little shack near the water, recommended to my family by our tour guide.

Well, I'm pretty sure I found it. It is The Lobster Claw, and the pictures on Yelp and others I searched out on Flickr look just like the place I remembered. And the four Yelp reviews are all five stars and sing the praises of the lobster roll.

So, if you're ever in Bar Harbor, look this place up. I'm avoiding the temptation to go there myself.

I take the wheel, briefly

I wasn't quite sure what to expect from Mystic. I had started to think about it as a possible destination after seeing it in a National Geographic Traveler article on well-preserved historic places. But would there be enough to do for three days and two nights? Would there be great places to eat?

Downtown Mystic.

Yes, and yes. Mystic has turned out to be a lovely little town, not built up at all (I doubt there's a building over four stories), yet filled with lots of shops and restaurants. And Mystic Seaport, my main purpose for coming here, has enough attractions to easily fill a day or more.

The Seaport is particularly impressive. Basically, it has been buying up historic seaport buildings and ships from various locales over the years. The buildings get reassembled within its 19th-century seaport village, while the ships sit on the Mystic River alongside the Seaport, or in a preservation area. The result is one of the best and most extensive historic areas I've ever seen.

While I saw plenty of historic sites in Boston, Salem, and Quincy, they were all anomalies. Even along the Freedom Trail, most of what you see is modern buildings. The historic sites have been preserved, yes, but you have no sense of what it was like to walk along the streets of revolutionary Boston, for example. But in Mystic Seaport, as you walk along the paths lined with a 19th-century bank, grocer, chemist, press, shipsmith, and much more, and then look over to the water, filled with masts of historic vessels, you can really get a sense of what it was like to live during that time.

Part of Mystic Seaport's 19th century village.

Many of the buildings are manned by people who will take the time to give you an extensive explanation of these 19th-century skills. I spent quite awhile in the carver's building, learning about how ship lettering, decorative work, and figureheads were carved — and how, as demand dropped for that art, they transitioned into things like furniture and carousel horses. The shipsmith, meanwhile, explained that since you can't exactly go out and buy the tools required to maintain Mystic Seaport's historic vessels any more, he just makes whatever they need.

The only difficult thing about going through Mystic Seaport has been the kids. It's the end of the school year and therefore school field trip time, and so there are packs of kids running around everywhere. I can see how this would be a great learning experience for kids, so I understand them being here, but if I were planning another visit, I'd be sure to come during the summer, when school is out. Also, I don't know who I write to recommend this, but I'm increasingly convinced that if schools made kids run about 15 minutes of wind sprints prior to any field trip, everyone involved would be much better off.

But anyway. The showpiece of Mystic Seaport is the Charles W. Morgan, the last remaining wooden whaler. As has been the case with so many ships on this trip, the Morgan is currently hauled out for restoration. However, although the ship currently has no masts, it's very interesting to see her hauled out — the ship has a much, much, deeper draft than I ever would have expected if I'd seen her in the water. It makes sense, thinking about it — a whaler out for years at a time collecting whale oil needs a huge hold to put all of that oil in. But it was very unexpected based on other ships I've seen.

The Charles W. Morgan, mid-restoration.

Today, in the afternoon, I took a break from the Seaport-going for a ride on the schooner Argia. I knew I wanted a chance to ride in a ship under sail at some point during this trip, and the Argia, a short walk from my inn, the Whaler's Inn, seemed like the perfect opportunity. And, although there wasn't much breeze in the morning, and there was a threat of rain for the afternoon, the wind picked up and the rain held off, so the ship got to go quite a bit on sail power alone.

There's a peacefulness to a ship under sail that I'd sort of expected — with no motor, the main sounds you hear are the wind in the sails and the water whooshing along the side. I took tons of pictures as we breezed along, until I took one of an island along Long Island Sound, and the following ensued:

Captain: Did you just take a picture of that island?
Me: (Thinking: I've been taking pictures this whole sail. I know the houses on that island look big and very expensive, but is there some sort of law against taking pictures of them? We're in public waters, aren't we?) Uh, yes?
Captain: You're going to have to give me that camera.
Me: Do I have to delete the pictures?
Captain: Just give me the camera. I promise it will be good. And hold this — that's most important. (Points to the wheel.)

I gingerly take one spoke of the wheel, and then the captain walks off with my camera. I grab the whole wheel, and I can feel it humming in my hands.

And that is how I have a picture of myself behind the wheel of an 81-foot schooner.

Me, steering the Argia.

After a great sail on the Argia and last night's lobster roll redemption at Abbott's Lobster in the Rough, it might have been best just to pack it in on the lobster roll and get some fish and chips or something. But I had checked out the Captain Daniel Packer Inne's pub menu, including its hot lobster roll "sautéed with a sweet sherry butter," and that intrigued me. First, HOT lobster roll. Second, butter.

So I headed over there, and I am so glad I did. First, the ambiance is great — it reminds me a little bit of the pub I had brilliant fish and chips in when I was in Portsmouth, UK. Perhaps it's that sense that centuries-ago sea captains dug in to a pie and a pint in the very same place you're sitting. At the DPI, the pub is in what's essentially the basement, with exposed stone walls and low wooden beams overhead. Housed in a building completed in 1756, it's historic without trying too hard. And the fire going in the fireplace felt great after being out in the cold wind on the Argia.

The Captain Daniel Packer Inne's pub.

As for the food, I was feeling maxed out on oysters and clam chowder, so I went for the shrimp, scallop, and roasted vegetable soup, and of course the hot lobster roll. The soup was good, but not too remarkable — pretty much like a minestrone with seafood in it. The hot lobster roll actually had the most plate appeal of any I've had so far, with its herbs and shallots mixed in with the lobster meat.

The lobster roll was probably the second best I've had on this trip (behind Abbott's), mostly on the strength of being hot. Where it fell short, oddly enough, was the bread. The DPI got a little too ambitious, and put it on better, but too chewy, bread. As a result, every bite involved too much effort to cut into the bread. There was buttered lobster flying everywhere — it was not pretty. Which is a shame, because the guts of the roll were quite good. And it still beat cold, hands down.

I think it's definitely time to switch off of lobster rolls now. I don't think anybody in this area is going to beat Abbott's. But I may well be back to the DPI tomorrow before my train to sample their fish and chips — the space is too great to pass up another chance to kick back with a beer and some pub food.

Portland equals happy feet

The old port area — bricks and cobblestones aplenty.

Before I get too ahead of myself, a little about Portland. As I mentioned in my post Tuesday, I didn't have any difficulty getting to the old port area.

Once I got there, I had a few hours to kill before one of the few appointments I've actually made for this trip. I spend my time walking the old port area, taking pictures and shopping. Think water, with the occasional whiff of fish, lots of bricks and cobblestones, and plenty of specialty and souvenir shops.

I've been to Portland before, on a cruise ship stop, and two of the most interesting stores from that time were still around — a specialty kitchen/gourmet foods shop, and one with all kinds of items for dogs. Portland itself, and all of Maine, from what I've seen, is very dog-friendly. It's not unusual to see dogs in shops (even the ones not for dogs), or sitting beside their owners at outdoor cafes. There are also any number of places to buy Maine specialty foods, particularly anything made from blueberries.

My appointment was for Soakology, and this place really made the trip. Soakology has a really lovely tea shop upstairs, with tons of loose leaf teas to choose from. But it's the downstairs that I was interested in when I ran across the place researching my trip. They offer foot soaks, and also a variety of light spa services, but the place is really about the soak.

I'd figured that by the time I got to Portland, my feet would be pretty worn out and in need of a tune-up, and I was decidedly right.

At Soakology, you start your treatment by choosing from a menu of different foot soaks (prices range from $20-$40; I went with the $30 "Piece of Mind," with essential oils and salts. Then you head down to the basement, where an attendant/masseuse seats you in a giant stuffed chair raised off of the ground. She wheels out your warm foot soak in a giant ceramic pot, also raised on a cart, and also gives you a warm neck and shoulders wrap.

And let me tell you, as soon as I stuck my feet down into the pot, the bottom covered with stones that feel lovely under toes and soles, I was feeling super-relaxed. If you're questioning the value proposition of paying $30 to soak your feet, I can only say, don't knock it 'till you've tried it. There must be something to this whole reflexology thing, or, if nothing else, coming at relaxation through your feet.

The Soakology basement setup.

My attendant also brought me down the food and tea menu, and I ended up ordering two adorable cast iron personal pots of tea during my treament — spicy peppermint and ginger. Both were very good and added to the overall experience, with my feet soaking, and soothing music playing down in the quiet, nicely furnished basement space.

By the time I got to the 20 minute head, neck, and shoulders massage I ordered to go with my soak, I was already super-relaxed. After the massage, which the attendant does mid-soak, I was ready to float out of there, and my poor beleagured feet felt the best they ever have (sorry, feet, it's all downhill from there).

This concept is amazing. Every little detail is there — the tea, the soak, the space, the mini-massages. Why is this place only in Portland? Why is there not one everywhere (but mostly, selfishly, in DC)?

After my soak, I walked around a bit more, and then did what everyone does after an amazing spa experience — I went to a dive bar.

Okay, not everyone. Not even me, in most instances, but I wanted some food before I headed back for my train, and per my research, J's Oyster was the place.

J's I found on Yelp, clearly filling a niche as the local seafood joint/bar with better prices and better food than the places all the tourists go. I was a little concerned about going to the place all of the locals went to, as if I'd walk in the door and everyone would turn, and stare, and someone would say, "You're not from around here, are ya?"

Instead, within seconds of walking in, I felt enormously comfortable. The bartender was absolutely kind to me, and it was clear she knew her regulars by name. The more time I spent there, the more I started to think that at J's, you're either a regular, a savvy tourist, or a potential regular.

J's Oyster's wonderfully divey atmosphere.

As for the food, I had half a dozen oysters and a lobster roll. The oysters were smaller than Union Oyster House, and therefore less intimidating, but also less fresh — shucked at some point during the day (I hope), and deposited on a bed of ice in the midst of the bar area. They were a little drier, too, but I do have to give J's credit for a delicious sauce, which was possibly better than Union Oyster House's.

The lobster roll — sigh — was cold. Good, fresh, but cold. By this point I was starting to believe that I had, in fact, eaten the best lobster roll in New England while in Bar Harbor, and nothing was even going to approach it. Turns out Abbott's Lobster in the Rough here in Connecticut proved me wrong.

After J's, I stopped at Gilbert's Chowder House to sample some clam chowder. It was really, really, good, with a sweet hint to it.

My trip to Portland was one day where I didn't really "do" anything. No visits to historic sites, no museums, just shopping, foot soak, and eating. That's not to say that there isn't anything to do in Portland, just that I'd already been on a tour during the cruise ship stop and seen quite a bit. If I were taking the Downeaster in for the first time, there would certainly have been time to walk over and see the lush Victoria Mansion.

An open letter to Abbott's Lobster in the Rough

Dear Abbott's Lobster in the Rough,

I thank you heartily for restoring my faith in the lobster roll, by doing what seems so simple but has not been grasped by your good restaurant brethren in Boston and Portland — putting fresh, hot lobster on a buttery bun.

I thank you also for the delicious local Whale Rock oysters, briny and tasting of the sea — also vying for the best I've had on this trip, against two places with "oyster" in their names. Your brothy clam chowder, alas, was not the best I've had, but it was still tasty.

I thank you for your casual atmosphere, right by the water. And for allowing patrons to bring their own adult beverages, as the pint of Bass I purchased at the package store up the street paired so nicely with the location and all the aforementioned deliciousness.

But I regret to tell you that while I had the best meal of my trip so far at your establishment, I will not be back, at least on this trip. This has nothing to do with your restaurant, except its location. I walked and walked and walked and walked and walked to get there, and yes, this is mostly my fault for this stubborn green adherence to no cars on this trip.

Still. Couldn't you open an outpost? Say somewhere less than three miles away from downtown?

Sincerely,
Carrie

How many lanterns if by aching calves?

An offering for Samuel Adams

Well, I managed to get through the rest of the Freedom Trail today, although anything involving taking stairs up or down results in excruciating pain in my calves. Thanks, Bunker Hill. Thanks a lot.

For the most part, my pictures will probably be more than enough detail (whenever I finally get them up to Flickr, which could be awhile, because I shot more than 300, and they need serious editing). In the case of two of the best experiences, though, photography wasn't allowed.

The first was the Old South Meeting House. There are some small museum exhibits at the back of the meeting house, which is reminiscent of many other churches of that era with its small pew boxes. It's much larger, though, and the exhibits cover everything from the Boston Tea Party to slavery.

The Paul Revere House is the other. Much of the Freedom Trail up to that point is old churches and graveyards, and indeed there's one more old church and graveyard to follow. Granted, that church — Old North Church — is probably the most famous on the Freedom Trail. But still, the Paul Revere House stands out because it is different. You see a lot of points of historical significiance on the Freedom Trail, and yes, Paul Revere did live in the house. 

Paul Revere house

But the real importance of the house is that it provides you with a historical context missing elsewhere. As I walked through the four open rooms, feeling the broad floorboards creaking under my feet, viewing the tiny children's chairs, metal pots and kettle, and  cavernous brick fireplaces,I got a real sense for how people lived back then. Yes, they met and talked about independence, and yes, they banded together and fought the British, but this is how they lived. I think this one is a can't-miss on the Freedom Trail.

Not far from the Paul Revere House in the North End is Galleria Umberto. I read about this unassuming little place on Yelp and when I realized it was nearby, it seemed like the perfect place to stop for a snack. It really, really, really didn't disappoint. For $5.05, I got a piece of pizza, a panzarotti (fried oblong potato and cheese deliciousness), and a Dixie cup of house wine. All were delicious, and I'm not sure I could feed myself from the grocery store for $5.05.

Galleria Umberto's display of Italian goodness

Less memorable was Yankee Lobster, where I had lobster roll #1 on the trip for dinner. This was another Yelp find, and I think if I had gotten an actual lobster, or I was into cold lobster rolls, I might have had a different reaction. The lobster roll was pretty substantial and unadorned, and not suffering from celery chunks or swimming in mayonnaise. But it was also cold, and that's just not my thing. 

When I think lobster roll, I think back to the ones we had in a little shack in Bar Harbor, Maine. Hot, fresh, and with butter on the side — they were amazing. I'm hoping at least one lobster roll I have on this trip comes close. But it wasn't Yankee Lobster's, which is a shame, because I really hiked to get there (and then, sadly, realized it was closer to a Silver Line stop than I'd thought, and that the Silver Line, a bus line, was less confusing than I thought it would be).

My other touristy highlights of the day were the Old State House — which had the most expensive admission at $7, but also the most extensive museum — and the Boston Public Library. The library is not on the Freedom Trail, but I had enough time left after I completed the trail to make it over there. I'm glad I did. The library's weekend hours for the summer are 9-5, and it's closed on Memorial Day. So the 20 minutes I had to go through it were the only opportunity I would have had.

The Boston Public Library is one of the more ostentatious public buildings I've seen. It reminds me a bit of the British Museum. I think I actually said "wow" when I walked in. So I'm really glad I slipped in to see it.

Boston Public Library