A boat called the, “Coulda, Woulda,” slipped past the docks. The folks rolling up I-95 shoulda stopped at Lobster Landing for the best lobster roll on the CT shore. Family run (possibly pirate run, based on the gent in bandana) and serving amazing seafood, right on the water. White, plump lobster meat from the claw, knuckle and tail shines served warm, with not too much butter, on a toasted hotdog bun.
It’s CT, not Wisconsin man. We sat at a picnic table out of the sun: the dog sniffed for lobster scraps. The gelato was an excellent addition: palate cleansing with its own richness to compliment the main attraction.
3rdarm.biz 
Aww. Did God himself name the Yaks the baby yak’s godparents, or did baby yak do it? Either way, looking good.