Experts and pundits opine that the Lobster Salad from Hamptons’ commissary Loaves and Fishes is an economic bellwether. North of $100 per pound says stock markets are bullish, south signifies bear time. The message is clear either way: Lobster Salad means luxury.
Although lobster is no longer the delicacy it once was—I’m talking Diamond Jim Brady days at Delmonico’s when crustaceans were as exotic as antelope meatloaf might be today—it’s still really special. This one so much more to me because of the sensational sauce rémoulade: a French herb-mayonnaise with capers and a touch of anchovy. Auguste Escoffier, the guru of French cuisine, served rémoulade when he and César Ritz created the standard we know today as luxury dining at Ritz’s hotels in Paris and other grand-tour cities, but it was late 19th-century Louisiana that made rémoulade a household word. In the culinary crucible that New Orleans is, and always was, cold seafood is rarely served without it. Take that, sauce tartare!
See? It’s just perfect for that hot August day with chilled Mumm Champagne, crisp Bibb greens and crusty bread, or summer corn on the cob. Here’s another secret “family” recipe: just slip it onto these sensational Derby plates, discontinued circa 1805, and combine a bit of smashing silver like this Beaux-Arts champagne cooler and my grandmother’s beaded service plates from Tiffany’s, ’natch. Then add a few heirloom Madeira linens and those forever-discontinued Baccarat “tulip” wine glasses—wedding presents to my mother and father that somehow stayed intact when the marriage did not—and—presto! You’ll have one helluva surefire over-the-top lunch. An added bonus: You will not—I repeat, will not—have spent anything close to $100 per pound, although it’ll certainly look like you did.