Omnivore - Knife’s Edge: Family meal

The covert operation of holiday meals in another cook’s kitchen

It’s here! A large bruised box with a Boston Harbor postmark that’s cold to the touch. Stickers that exclaim, “Perishable.” Inside the box, a few layers of cold, aluminum-looking insulation cover an arm’s full of tangled seaweed and beneath that, two smallish lobsters. Its 85 degrees and sunny outside, and I am in Dunedin, Fla., for the holidays. Here, receiving lobster from family in New England is one of our traditions — along with a steady diet of rib-poking sarcasm, political debate, and an unorthodox lottery system to decide who buys who gifts.

But there’s one more understated annual occurrence. I’m in the kitchen.

If you’re a chef, you understand exactly what I’m talking about.

It’s one part obligation to your family. One part obligation to your craft. A dash of showing off, and let’s be honest, one sprinkle of trying to keep your various relatives from fucking up dinner.