
Biologist Melissa Dorey leans over a bubbling blue tank the size of a kiddie pool and pulls out a huge lobster.
“Squeeze it here,” she says, pressing the smooth hard shell that encloses the feisty crustacean’s thick body. “You want to make sure the shell is hard, with no give.”
Here at Clearwater, one of the largest shippers of live Atlantic lobster in the world, that hard shell signals a top-quality, “fully meated” lobster, says Dorey, which is what the company guarantees.
Located in Bedford, NS, just north of Halifax, lobsters are quality scanned, graded and held in a unique “dry land” storage facility that delivers chilled natural seawater to the lobsters—kind of like a lobster condo—before being shipped, live, to customers around the world.
Since I’m in Nova Scotia, the land of lobster, I’ve decided to make the king of crustaceans my top priority, and eat it in every way possible.
That means ordering lobster from roadside stands and sushi bars, dipping tender tails in melted butter at fancy restaurants and chowing down on McLobster sandwiches under the golden arches.

But my first stop is The Battered Fish, a red food truck on the Bedford Highway in Halifax, for what might well be the best lobster roll you’ll ever eat.
Young chef Jason Bourgoin recently hung up his restaurant toque to partner with Ryan MacIsaac and serve fresh local seafood from the side of the road. While the crispy Panko-crusted Digby scallops are divine, it’s that big white roll of lobster claw and knuckle meat, dijon mayo and baby spinach, that has me swooning. You can have the same menu at the Battered Fish takeout stand downtown on the waterfront, as well as at Scotia Square.

For a different spin, head to one of the city’s top tables, Five Fishermen. Housed in a downtown historic building, they serve up lobster-inspired starters like lobster empanadas and crispy corn-crusted lobster claws, and at FID, Chef Dennis Johnston makes lobster poutine.
But you really need to get out of town and feel the salty breeze on your face for the full lobster experience.
So I head across the harbour and along the Shore Road to Fisherman’s Cove, where lobster boats are tied up at the dock and the fresh daily catch is for sale in old fishing sheds along the water.
Beyond the touristy new boardwalk, lined with ice cream shops and gift shops, Heidi Kakonyi Poulton sits at a sunny picnic table next to The Lobster Dive, where she sells “culls” (lobsters with soft shells or missing a claw) for $4.50 a pound, and intact beauties are around $7.50 a pound.
“I’ll cook it for 50 cents a pound extra,” she says, hoisting a dark green specimen from the tank. “Steam them in sea water.”
After a crash course in lobster anatomy, I turn the car toward the south shore and on to Lunenburg, an hour away from Halifax. Since the collapse of the cod fishery in 1992, fishermen have focused on the scallops and lobster in these waters.
Seafood pizza (with lobster, natch) at the Salt Shaker Deli in Lunenburg’s quaint downtown fuels us for the drive up north to Wolfville in the lush Annapolis Valley.
Our digs at the Blomidon Inn offer a lobster double whammy—an elegant lobster dinner of two fat tails with drawn butter, and a lunch of toasted lobster rolls, expertly paired with local wines.
The aromatic Grand Pré dry Muscat, among other regional varietals, is a perfect match to Michael Howell’s stellar cuisine at Tempest.
The leader of the province’s slow food group, Howell is the king of local, finessing homegrown ingredients and seafood into dishes like lobster risotto and lobster chowder. He’s also helped with the menu at the Port Pub—a co-operative brewpub with 20 owner-members—in nearby Port Williams.
While brewmaster Randy Lawrence draws customers from Halifax for his fine craft beers, chef Peter Welton keeps diners happy in the gastropub next door, with dishes that include Lobster Benedict and classic Nova Scotia lobster roll.
It’s hard to believe that, merely a few decades ago, lobster was considered a poor man’s meal. Did kids really toss such a delicacy into the dumpster on the way to school?
Down on the waterfront, at the Fisheries Museum of the Atlantic, a memorial listing the names of fishermen lost at sea is a sober reminder that in Lunenburg, lobster is fished in winter, long after the summer molting season, when the animals are in big, meaty prime condition.
The work is difficult and dangerous, but staggered fishing seasons protect the resource and ensure the best product, which is why Canadian lobster is so prized.
“I think people should value where their fish comes from and how hard it is to catch,” says museum heritage interpreter Katherine Stevens.
Savouring another mouthful of sweet Canadian lobster plucked fresh from the Atlantic, I feel rich beyond belief.
Photos by Cinda Chavich
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