My wife's family is from the North Shore of Boston, Massachusetts. We take a journey or two every year to the area - Marblehead, Danvers, Salem, Gloucester aka: "Lobster Land" or "Lobsta Land".

Clawed Lobster. Homarus americanus. Clawed lobsters comprise a family of large marine crustaceans (Nephropidae, sometimes also Homaridae). Lobsters are an economically important type of seafood, the basis of a global industry that nets (pun intended) $1.8 billion in trade annually.

This time of year the Maine soft-shells are abundant and very popular!

For 13 years now, we've been making a 4th of July tradition to trek up there for what more or less produces to be a 4 day "cholesterol bender" with a pilgrimage to a place called Woodman's in Essex, MA. While visiting I happened to catch an article in the Salem Evening News about how Woodman's was celebrating 90 years of what they made famous, "The Fried Clam", in addition to offering fresh, perfectly steamed lobsters and homemade lobster rolls. Some locals I asked told me Woodman's was "too touristy" and would suggest another place. While my wife knew it was touristy due to its long-standing and well-deserved reputation, she would consider no other place to consume local fried, whole belly Ipswich clams. (In most places in the country, fried clams are only available as frozen clam strips sans bellies and most likely not from Ipswich).

Woodman's is a five-generation family-owned business that sits on the Essex River. On this day, in the front outside stand is Stephen Woodman, a 4th generation Woodman lobster man who is in the process of cooking 1lb to 5lb lobsters in large steaming vats. You select your partially steamed lobster from a large iced display, he gives you a receipt to be paid inside, and you return to collect your glowing red delicacy.

Stephen and I chatted for a few minutes. From my inquiries, he quickly ascertained that 1) I'm not a local; 2) I've been in the restaurant business myself; 3) I feel his pain having to do this on what is easily the busiest weekend of the year for them. I picked a 3.75lb lobster with its newly molted soft-shell. It was swimming less than six hours ago. He shared with me the family secret of cooking lobsters perfectly – high heat steam in a pot, or in their case vat, of seaweed. (Reserve the seaweed next time you have lobsters shipped to you!) Boiling in water causes the lobster to take on too much water, makes them tougher and reduces the sweetness. He then deftly and automatically pulls my lobster out of the pot, disassembles it with 8 whacks and one big slice with a 16" French knife. He hands it to me with about 1/2 pound of melted butter, slice of lemon, "touristy" bib and a single WetNap™. We both look at the WetNap™, grin, and then he throws 5 more in the basket. "Go eat that," he says. You don't have to tell me twice!

Inside at the main counter where you pay for the lobsters, my wife, Debi, is in a quick moving line (daunting at first but it's a well-oiled machine), spies the different sized boxes that are stapled to a wall near the register, and opts without hesitation to satisfy her craving with the "Motherload", a quart of fried clams...no sides, nothing, just clams. She's salivating at this point so I hand her my bib.

These are full size Ipswich clams with the bellies. Lightly breaded, flash fried in lard and served with slices of lemon and tartar sauce. We sit down across from each other and pray to "Our Lady of Clean Arterial Motion" to get us through this OK!

Nothing compares to a lobster or fried clam hangover. The body just recoils and everything, including ear lobes, do their part in helping digestion. Stephen comes by to see how we're doing and also to show me the difference between a soft-shell lobster, which is what I ate, and a hard-shell. In the summer lobsters shed their shells so that they can grow. Once shed, there are new, soft-shells underneath which harden over time and as the water gets colder. Since the lobsters shed their shells in order to have room for growth the following year, there is less meat inside a soft-shell than there is in a hard-shell of the same size but many people, including me, prefer soft-shells as they are sweeter and more tender.

I ask him to point out family working in the kitchen and dining area. This was a mistake. With a flaying steamed lobster in hand, he rattles off, "Brother, brother, cousin, nephew, niece, don't know him, brother in-law, Mom, cousin, cousin…"

90 years of cooking the same things. How can it not be considered sanctified?