Lobster Tail -- The Small Celebration in a Tired Season

Eleven weeks. The nausea has settled into a predictable pattern — afternoons, mild, manageable with ginger tea and plain crackers. The fatigue is new and absolute. I come home from Amazon at 6 PM and fall asleep on the couch by 7:30. James covers me with a blanket and eats dinner alone. He does not complain. He heats up leftovers and watches cooking shows on YouTube and waits for me to wake up at 9 PM, groggy and hungry, and then he reheats the leftovers for me and we eat together in the quiet apartment while the city hums outside.

I am beginning to show, slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice — just a firmness in my lower abdomen that was not there before, a rounding that I can feel when I lie on my back. James put his hand on my stomach on Wednesday night and said, "Hello in there." I said, "The baby cannot hear you." He said, "I don't care. I'm introducing myself." He talked to my stomach for three minutes. He told the baby about Taiwan, about beef noodle soup, about the Mariners' chances this season. The baby is a prune. The prune is being briefed on baseball.

Work this week was the first full week as Principal Engineer. I led a cross-team architecture review on Wednesday that went well — the kind of deep technical work I used to love, the kind that makes my brain light up. For two hours I forgot I was pregnant, forgot I was leaving eventually, forgot everything except the elegance of a well-designed system. Then the meeting ended and I walked to my car and remembered: I am growing a person. The whiplash between engineer-brain and mother-brain is going to define the next six months. I am already exhausted by it.

Banchan Labs: subscription launch is in one week. James and I spent Saturday at the SoDo kitchen doing a full dry run — packing 50 test boxes, running them through the label printer, testing the cold-pack system for perishable ingredients. Grace supervised. She approved the packing but not the label placement: "Too far left. The customer sees the label first. Center it." I centered it. Mina ran the postage calculator. Tess updated the welcome email. We are ready. I think we are ready. Grace says we are ready, and Grace is the final authority on readiness in this organization, regardless of what the org chart says.

Kevin called Sunday to tell me that Bridge City Roasters was featured in Portland Monthly magazine. He read me the relevant paragraph: "Kevin Park's meticulous approach to roasting — informed by years of personal discipline and a deep respect for origin — produces some of the most nuanced light roasts in the Pacific Northwest." He said, "They called me meticulous. Nobody has ever called me meticulous. Lisa framed the article." I said, "Kevin. You are meticulous. You are the most meticulous person I know about coffee." He said, "I'm meticulous about three things: coffee, sobriety, and my sister's opinion. In that order." I laughed. He laughed. The Sunday call is the best part of my week, every week, without exception.

The recipe this week is a ginger-scallion chicken that I have been making constantly because the ginger settles my stomach and the chicken is protein and the whole thing takes thirty minutes and I am too tired for anything more ambitious. Chicken thighs, bone-in, skin-on. Salt. Pan-sear skin-side down until crispy. Flip. Finish in the oven at 425 for twenty minutes. Meanwhile, make the sauce: minced ginger, sliced scallions, neutral oil heated until almost smoking, poured over the ginger-scallion mixture with a sizzle. Salt. Serve the chicken with the ginger-scallion sauce spooned over. Rice alongside. Eat on the couch at 9 PM after waking from a nap. This is the rhythm now. This is the rhythm of growing.

Most nights this season, thirty minutes and a couch nap are all I have to offer dinner—and that’s enough, and I’ve made peace with it. But the week of the Banchan Labs dry run, after James covered me with a blanket for the fourth night in a row and reheated something without a word of complaint, I wanted to give him something that felt like a celebration, even a small one. Lobster tail broils fast, needs almost nothing, and lands on the table looking like you tried harder than you did—which is exactly the kind of quiet victory this season calls for.

Lobster Tail

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 2

Ingredients

• 2 lobster tails (6–8 oz each), thawed if frozen
• 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped
• Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

1. Preheat broiler. Set your oven to broil on high and position a rack about 6 inches from the broiler element. Line a small baking sheet with foil.
2. Prepare the tails. Using kitchen shears, cut straight down the center of the top shell lengthwise, stopping just before the tail fin. Use your thumbs to gently press the shell halves apart and lift the raw lobster meat up and over the shell, resting it on top while keeping it attached at the base.
3. Make the garlic butter. In a small bowl, whisk together the melted butter, minced garlic, lemon juice, paprika, salt, and pepper until combined.
4. Season the lobster. Place the tails on the prepared baking sheet. Spoon the garlic butter mixture generously over the exposed meat, reserving a small amount for basting.
5. Broil. Slide the baking sheet under the broiler and cook for 10–13 minutes, basting once halfway through with the reserved butter, until the meat is fully opaque, lightly golden at the edges, and the internal temperature reads 140°F.
6. Finish and serve. Remove from the oven and spoon any pan drippings over the tails. Scatter fresh parsley on top and serve immediately with lemon wedges alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 21g | Carbs: 2g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 670mg